The air in the room still carried the warmth from dinner. Erin sat curled on the plush rug near the edge of the bed, legs tucked beneath her as she leaned slightly against the bedframe. Xander had been unusually quiet, not distant, just thoughtful—as if weighing something in his head.
Then, suddenly, he appeared at the doorway holding a deck of cards and wearing that mischievous half-smile she'd come to know all too well. "I was thinking," he said, "since I still won that bet, and I have one more night that you're not allowed to lie to me, let's play a game."
Erin tilted her head, eyebrow raised. "A game?"
He walked in, lowered himself onto the floor beside her, and opened the deck. "Just a question game. I ask something. You ask something. No rules, no pressure. I promise, nothing you don't want to answer."
Her initial instinct was to guard herself, but when he looked at her again—soft, playful, and warm—her resolve melted. He wasn't prying. He just wanted to know her. The real her. And after everything today—the rooftop, the dinner, the way he held her in the kitchen like she wasn't just a spy in his home but something more—she found herself nodding.
"Alright," she said. "But you go first."
He shuffled the cards absentmindedly as he asked, "Favorite color?"
"Blue," she answered quickly. "Yours?"
"Grey. Like the sky before a storm."
She smiled at that. "That's oddly specific."
"It's also when the world feels the most honest," he murmured.
They kept going. Questions about music, about whether she preferred tea over coffee, the strangest food she'd ever eaten. She made him laugh with an impression of a fortune-telling squirrel she once saw on a bizarre television segment. He leaned back on his elbows, eyes full of admiration as he watched her light up from the inside out.
Then she asked him, "If you weren't… this, the heir to a dark empire… what would you have wanted to be?"
Xander didn't hesitate. "Free."
The weight of that single word settled between them.
She reached over and gently touched his hand.
"I'll be right back," he said after a moment, getting up and heading to the bathroom.
His phone buzzed right after he left.
She didn't think twice when she picked it up. Her hand naturally went for it, assuming he'd want it if it was urgent. But her eyes accidentally caught the screen before she could call out to him.
Cassian : I confirmed it. Not only is she Celeste Raven, Daughter of the Fallen Empire, you were right—your parents are tied to the empire's collapse… and her father's death.
Her fingers froze.
Everything inside her turned hollow.
Cassian knew.
Xander knew.
And he'd been looking into her. After everything—after he told her she didn't have to reveal anything until she was ready, that he'd wait, that he'd trust her—he'd still been investigating her behind her back.
She was still staring at the screen when Xander came back.
He paused mid-step when he saw the look on her face… and then his eyes dropped to the phone in her hand.
"You lied to me," she said softly, her voice raw.
Xander stiffened. "Erin—"
"You said you'd wait. That you'd trust me." Her voice cracked. "But you didn't. You were just waiting for someone else to confirm your doubts."
He looked away.
That simple act—his inability to look her in the eye—shattered something inside her.
She stood. "All this time, you made me believe you wanted the truth, but only when I was ready. I thought you were different."
His hands clenched at his sides. "I am different. But what was I supposed to do? You walk into my life with a fake name, a fake job, a fake everything. You could've been a threat to everything I've been trying to protect—"
"You said you'd trust me!" she snapped.
"How?!" he yelled suddenly. "How do I trust someone when nothing that comes out of their mouth is real?! Even your name is fake, Erin!"
She flinched.
He took a shaky breath, but his voice rose again, sharper this time. "What about this? Huh?" He gestured between them. "Is this fake too? Whatever the hell it is we've been doing? Or were you just going to vanish in the night like a ghost after getting what you came for?"
Her heart slammed against her ribs. "I wasn't going to—"
"Weren't you?" he cut in. "Weren't you going to leave tonight? Without saying anything?"
She stared at him, stricken.
He knew.
"I was trying to protect you," she whispered. "I didn't want to drag you into the mess—"
"And I told you I wanted to be in it!" His voice cracked. "I told you… you don't have to figure it out alone…"
He trailed off, and the silence that followed was deafening.
Erin's throat tightened. She blinked quickly, refusing to cry. But something hot was blooming behind her eyes anyway.
She turned without a word and headed for the door.
"Erin," he called, the sharpness now replaced with something quieter, softer—but still strained.
She paused just before the threshold. "Even though you are the son of the very people who killed my father right before me, burnt down everything my mother worked to build, I trusted you," she said, voice trembling. "Even though I had no reason to. But I guess you needed a reason to trust me. Good bye Xander."
And then she was gone.
He didn't follow.
Didn't stop her.
Didn't say anything.
But behind her, in the darkness of the room, the only sound that remained was the distant hum of regret—and the muffled crack in Xander's voice when he realized he'd broken something he wasn't sure he'd ever get back.