Chapter 227: Caught
But he didn’t regret it. Not even a little.
Elara turned her gaze away, sitting up straighter, her composure sliding back into place like armor. And yet, her ears betrayed her, still twitching faintly, still flushed.
Merlin leaned back into the couch, exhaling. His chest felt strangely light, though his heartbeat hadn’t slowed.
The world outside the window carried on, distant carriages rumbling down cobbled streets, merchants calling to early customers, the faint chime of a bell from the academy tower far off.
But here, in this moment, nothing else pressed in.
Just the two of them. The closeness. The silence.
And the unspoken truth that, even if neither dared say it yet, something had changed.
Something they couldn’t take back.
The sunlight crept higher, painting the room in brighter gold. Merlin sat there frozen, shoulder still warm where Elara had leaned against him. The silence between them was no longer suffocating but charged, alive in ways that made his chest ache and his throat tighten.
Elara’s violet gaze flicked sideways once, then away again, as if even looking at him too long might give something away. Her ears twitched faintly, betraying her every attempt at calm composure.
Merlin rubbed his palm against his knee, trying to steady himself. ’This is ridiculous. I’ve fought beasts, faced gods, endured endless simulations... and somehow, this feels harder.’
He opened his mouth, maybe to say something stupid, maybe to cut the tension before it strangled him, but the sound of heavy footsteps in the hall reached first.
The door slammed open.
"MERLIN!"
Victoria’s voice cut through the fragile moment like a blade.
Merlin and Elara jerked back instinctively, as if caught doing something they shouldn’t. His arm slipped from the couch, nearly toppling him to the floor, while Elara straightened with lightning speed, face turning away just enough to mask her still-reddened ears.
Victoria stood in the doorway, holding a basket of warm bread and fruit from the market. Her eyes scanned the scene, the closeness, the flushed faces, the way Merlin hadn’t moved quite fast enough.
The basket slipped from her hands.
The bread rolled across the floor. An apple bounced, landed near Merlin’s bare foot.
Her expression went from shock... to dawning realization... to something between horror and sisterly rage.
"YOU—" Her finger shot straight at Merlin, voice cracking. "WHAT DID YOU—"
"Nothing!" Merlin barked immediately, too fast, too defensive. He shot up to his feet, almost stumbling, hands raised like he was surrendering to the gods themselves. "Absolutely nothing!"
Elara, somehow, stayed composed. Her posture was straight, her tone even, though her ears betrayed her with their furious twitching. "Your brother is telling the truth. We were only talking."
Victoria’s eyes narrowed. "Talking. While sitting that close. With his hand—" She cut herself off, glaring daggers at Merlin. "Merlin Everhart, you’re still recovering! Do you want to collapse again?!"
Merlin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Of all the conclusions you could jump to, that’s the one?"
"You look guilty!"
"I always look guilty to you!"
Elara exhaled softly, standing with effortless grace. "Victoria." Her voice carried a calm weight that silenced the siblings immediately. She brushed a strand of silver hair behind her ear, the faintest trace of color still clinging to her cheeks. "Nothing happened. If it had, I would not be standing here calmly."
Victoria faltered. Her eyes flicked between them, measuring, trying to pierce through with sheer suspicion.
Merlin muttered under his breath, "...you’re going to give me gray hair before thirty."
"What was that?" Victoria snapped.
"Nothing," he said louder, flat.
The older sister crouched to scoop up the fallen bread, muttering curses under her breath. When she straightened, she shoved the basket against Merlin’s chest. "Eat. You look like you’ve been fasting for weeks."
Merlin caught it awkwardly, the smell of warm crust and fruit rising to his nose. He wanted to argue but his stomach growled at the worst possible time.
Victoria smirked triumphantly. "See? You’re not even fit enough to argue properly. Honestly, what am I going to do with you?"
Elara’s lips curved faintly, almost a smile, but she kept her composure. She moved to the table, her steps precise. "If it eases your worry, I will stay until he finishes eating."
Merlin choked on air. "Elara—"
Victoria’s head whipped toward her. "You what?"
"...Stay," Elara repeated calmly. "It is the least I can do, since Merlin has insisted on pretending he is stronger than he is."
Merlin dropped the basket on the table with a loud thump. "Both of you—" He jabbed a finger between them. "Stop ganging up on me. I’m fine."
Victoria crossed her arms. "You’re not fine."
Elara nodded once. "She’s right."
Merlin groaned louder, throwing himself back onto the couch. "Unbelievable."
The two women exchanged a glance. Not hostile. Not even cold. In fact, Merlin realized with dawning dread, they were in complete agreement.
’...I’m doomed.’
He shoved a piece of bread into his mouth, more to end the conversation than anything else. The crunch echoed in the room.
Victoria sat at the opposite end of the couch, arms folded, glaring at him like a hawk waiting for prey to slip. Elara sat neatly at the table, legs crossed, sipping the tea Victoria had left from the night before. Both of them radiated calm disapproval, though in entirely different ways.
Merlin chewed slowly, painfully aware of their eyes. "What, am I on trial now?"
"Yes," Victoria said immediately.
"Correct," Elara echoed, deadpan.
He threw his hands up. "I didn’t even do anything!"
The room went quiet except for the sound of his sulking chewing.
Finally, Elara spoke, her tone softer, almost cutting through the tension. "You truly should not push yourself yet. Even walking to the academy left you winded."
Merlin swallowed, jaw tight. "...I know."
Victoria leaned forward, expression softening slightly. "Then stop acting like you don’t."
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy this time. Just... quiet.
Merlin set the half-eaten bread down, running a hand through his black hair. "...You’re both impossible."
Elara’s lips curved faintly, the closest she came to admitting amusement. "Perhaps."
Victoria snorted, standing to gather the rest of the fruit. "If you collapse again, don’t expect me to haul you back here. You’re heavier than you look."
Merlin smirked, leaning back into the couch. "You’re just weak."
Her hand shot out to smack the back of his head before he could dodge.
"Ow!" Merlin winced, rubbing the spot. "Proof of abuse! Witnessed by an elf!"
Elara’s eyes glimmered, amused. "Noted."
Victoria huffed, grabbing her coat. "I’m going to the market again before you eat us out of house and home. Don’t cause trouble while I’m gone."
The door shut behind her with a sharp click.
The silence returned.
Merlin sighed, slumping back. "...She’s going to kill me before the gods do."
Elara tilted her head, violet eyes lingering on him. "You... care for her deeply."
He blinked at her. "Of course I do. She’s my sister."
Her gaze softened, just a fraction. "...It suits you."
Merlin’s chest tightened again, words catching in his throat. He looked away, back at the sunlight spilling through the window.
"...You make things complicated," he muttered.
Elara didn’t deny it.
And despite everything, the interruptions, the embarrassment, the bruised back of his head, Merlin felt something in him loosen. For the first time, the weight of the world outside their door didn’t feel so crushing.
Not when they were here.
Together.
The apartment was still quiet after Victoria stormed off, the faint creak of the floorboards and the whisper of city traffic outside their window filling the silence.
Merlin sprawled lazily across the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes. The bread basket sat half-finished on the table, a silent testament to both his appetite and his sister’s over-preparedness.
He’d just started to let himself drift into the kind of half-sleep that came easier now than in the hospital when a soft vibration broke the calm.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
Elara shifted from her seat at the table, fishing a slim crystal-etched device from the pocket of her long coat. Her brows knitted faintly as she scanned the glowing runes across its surface.
Merlin peeked out from under his arm. "...Message?"
She nodded once, though she didn’t look up immediately. Her violet eyes flicked across the screen, unreadable.
"...From who?" he pressed.
Elara set the device on the table with deliberate calm. "The others. They want to meet. Today."
Merlin blinked. "The others as in...?"
"Nathan. Liliana. Ethan. Seraphina. Dorian. The rest of your classmates." Her tone was even, matter-of-fact, but her ears twitched ever so slightly, betraying that she anticipated his reaction.
Merlin groaned, dragging both hands down his face. "Of course. Because gods forbid I get one day of peace without turning into a spectacle."
"You are not a spectacle," Elara said softly. Then, after a pause, added, "...But you are someone they care about."
That made him pause.
He shifted upright slowly, golden eyes meeting hers. "...You think they care?"
"I know they do."
There was no hesitation in her voice, no doubt. Just quiet certainty, as if she’d measured it herself.
Merlin leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "...You’re annoyingly convincing, you know that?"
Her lips curved faintly. "So I’ve been told."
The silence stretched, but this time it wasn’t heavy. Merlin sat there thinking, tapping his fingers against his knee, while Elara sipped calmly at her tea.
Finally, he sighed. "...Alright. We’ll go."
Elara tilted her head slightly. "We?"
"Yeah, we. You’re not ditching me to fend off all their questions alone. I’d rather face a hydra."
For the briefest moment, something softer flickered in her eyes. "Very well."