The autumn rain fell gently on the courtyard stone, filtering into the ground and dripping from the naked branches like silver threads. It was the kind of evening when the sky pressed down and the wind whispered low in the crevices of the manor.
Amelia remained in the archway, her arms crossed, her cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she watched the storm roll in.
She hadn't meant to bump into Claude.
But he was standing there next to her with that same silent step he always took. Not a word. Just standing close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body next to hers, even with the cold wetness in the air.
They stood and stared at the rain for a minute. Neither spoke.
Then:
"You shouldn't be outside in the cold," he said at last, his voice deep and steady.
Amelia glanced at him, her brows lifting. "You're not my commander anymore, Claude."
He turned slightly to face her, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Old habits die hard."
She let out a soft breath, not quite a laugh. "That much is true."
The quiet stretched again — thick, but not uncomfortable.
Then Claude spoke once more, softer. "You changed out there."
Amelia shifted her head, eyes on the trees torn by the wind. "So did you."
"Yes. But you…" He hesitated. "You returned stronger."
That startled her. She turned to him slowly, expression neutral. "I didn't think you'd noticed."
He regarded her. No smile, no insult. Only truth.
"I noticed everything."
A slow beat passed between them.
Her throat tightened. She did not wish to ask the question that came next. But she did so anyway.
"And so why did you look at me like a stranger when we first returned?"
Claude's face set in a tight jaw, his hand fisting loosely at his side."Because I didn't know how to face you."
Amelia blinked. "Why?"
He leaned in closer. Barely.
"Because while I was pretending to be captured — while I was fighting to rescue men alive from behind enemy lines — I thought of you.Every single night."
She drew a hard breath. Her heart thudded in her neck.
Claude's voice dropped."You were why I kept going. And I couldn't figure out if that made me weak or alive."
There was silence again — but now it crackled. Like flint to fire.
Amelia didn't flinch. But she didn't step back either.
"Claude," she breathed. "You can't tell me things like that if you don't mean them."
He leaned forward, brushing a damp curl from her cheek, fingers grazing her skin.
"I have never meant anything more."
Lightning tore the sky apart, illuminating the stone beneath their feet in white. The thunder came a second later — but they didn't move.
Gazing at one another as if the world had narrowed to just them.
But neither moved to close the distance.
Not yet.
Not while everything continued to feel like borrowed time.
So Amelia turned first, her voice barely above the wind.
"Then don't let me be the only one holding the memories."
And she left him in the archway, the rain behind him, his hand half-uplifted as if he had intended to follow — but did not.