The fog lingered in the room, curling against the wooden beams like a secret waiting to be spoken. June's voice cut through it, casual yet sharp.
"And yeah, that's what happened," she said, her tone dismissive, as if the story she had just finished telling was nothing more than smoke in the air.
Carmine stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She sat up slowly, her body heavy from exhaustion, her mind still tangled in fragments of memory. She reached for her clothes, pulling them on with deliberate care. June's gaze followed her, lingering, lustful, unashamed.
Carmine felt it, the weight of those eyes, and her voice faltered as she tried to speak. "I… I… iiiii… I… I have someone that I love now."
The words stumbled out, fragile, trembling, yet they carried a truth Carmine could no longer hide.
June's face went blank, her expression shifting from playful to cold. "Oh, so the black‑haired dude, huh? You've changed."
Carmine shook her head quickly, her voice breaking. "No… uh… I mean… it's not the dudes."
June leaned closer, her lips curling into something between a smile and a challenge. Her eyes glimmered with hunger. "Oh well," she whispered, her tone dripping with suggestion.
Carmine turned away, her heart pounding, and stepped outside.
The fog had thinned, revealing the scenery beyond — a clear depiction of Francis's place, the outlines of Wallace etched against the horizon. The town bustled faintly in the distance, its rooftops catching the pale light.
"Where are we?" Carmine asked, her voice steady now, though her chest still trembled.
June followed her outside, her boots crunching against the dirt. "Oh, we are at Wallace," she said simply, as if the name alone explained everything.
Carmine nodded, her resolve hardening. She moved toward the stables, her hand brushing against the flank of a horse. She mounted it with practiced ease, her body remembering the rhythm of escape.
She turned to June. "Goodbye."
But June stepped forward, her voice sharp. "What? You're just leaving like that? I thought you were hungry."
Carmine raised an eyebrow, suspicion flickering. "What's that supposed to mean?"
June smirked, tilting her head. "Of food, of course."
Carmine hesitated. Her stomach twisted, reminding her of the emptiness inside. She dismounted, sighing. "Fine. I'll eat before I go."
They walked together into the diner, the wooden door creaking as they entered. The room fell silent. Every eye turned toward them, staring, unblinking. The weight of the gaze pressed against Carmine's skin, heavy, uncomfortable.
June slid into the seat across from her, smirking. "Uh, they just are so horny," she said, her voice loud enough for the room to hear.
Carmine rolled her eyes, forcing a smile. "Well, order whatever you want. It's on me."
June scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "Uh, of course it's on you. Why do you think I saved you?"
The words hung in the air, sharp yet playful. Carmine chuckled despite herself, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
They laughed together, the sound breaking the tension in the room. Plates arrived, steaming, fragrant. The food was warm, rich, comforting. Carmine lifted a spoon, tasting it slowly. The flavor carried her back — back to the training camp, back to nights when she had been younger, freer.
She remembered her best friend there, a girl with blonde hair, her laughter bright, her presence steady. They had shared meals like this, whispered secrets in the dark, dreamed of futures that seemed so far away.
Carmine's chest tightened. The warmth of the food was more than sustenance; it was memory, it was longing, it was the echo of a bond she had lost.
June watched her, her eyes softening for a moment. "You're thinking of someone," she said quietly.
Carmine nodded, her voice low. "Yeah. Someone I used to know."
The diner buzzed faintly around them, but the weight of their conversation drowned it out.
June leaned forward, her tone teasing again. "Well, whoever it was… they must have been lucky."
Carmine looked away, her spoon trembling in her hand. "Maybe. Or maybe I was the lucky one."
The silence stretched, heavy, elusive.
Outside, Wallace stirred. The fog lifted further, revealing streets lined with whispers, papers plastered with news of the Lavender heirs' deaths. The town carried grief like a cloak, but inside the diner, Carmine and June sat together, their laughter fading into memory.
Carmine finished her meal, her resolve returning. She stood, her chair scraping against the floor. "I should go."
June tilted her head, her smile faint. "You always run. But maybe one day, you'll stay."
Carmine paused, her hand on the doorframe. She turned back, her eyes meeting June's. "Maybe. But not today."
She stepped outside, the air sharp against her skin. The horse waited, its breath steaming in the cold. Carmine mounted it again, her body steady, her heart uncertain.
June watched from the doorway, her figure framed by the fog. "Goodbye, Carmine," she whispered, though Carmine did not hear.
The road stretched ahead, endless, elusive. Carmine rode forward, the memory of warmth lingering, the shadow of betrayal still chasing her.
TO BE CONTINUED ....
NEXT CHAPTER ON 11th MARCH 2026