<h4>Chapter 227: The Magic of the Trip</h4>
<i><strong>Meredith</strong></i><strong><i>.</i></strong>
I groaned lightly as I dropped onto the bench by the edge of the training grounds, sweat trickling down my back and soaking through my shirt.
My arms felt like lead, and my thighs were already beginning to protest with every movement.
Dennis offered a grin and a short bow, like we’d just wrapped up a polite fencing duel instead of an hour of him dancing around my attacks and flicking imaginary hits at me just to prove he could.
"Not bad," he said, tossing me a water sk. "You’re getting sharper."
I took the sk with a breathless thanks, gulping the cool water gratefully before swiping the back of my hand across my damp forehead. "I’ll get better," I murmured.
Dennis’s grin widened. "That’s the spirit. Now go get yourself cleaned up first. Breakfast is sacred."
I shot him a narrow-eyed nce. "You’re the one who dragged me onto the field before sunrise."
"Ah, and I regret nothing."
I didn’t have the strength to argue. My muscles were jelly.
As I headed back into the estate, the early morning light warmed the tiled halls.
Inside my bedroom, Deidra and Kira were already waiting. Their eyes widened slightly when they saw me dragging my legs across the marble.
"Mydy," Kira gasped, rushing to take my hand and guide me toward the washroom. "You’re... You look all worked-up."
"He didn’t go easy on me," I muttered. Then paused. "Well, maybe he did. And that’s the terrifying part."
The girls chuckled but said nothing as they worked. Warm water, gentle cloths,vender-scented oils—Deidra rubbed my shoulders briefly, kneading out the tightest knots before I dressed again in something soft and simple: pale ivory linen dress, loose braid, a touch of lip balm.
By the time I descended to the dining hall, I felt a little more like myself, even though my body was already plotting its revenge in the form of dyed soreness.
But I trusted that I would be all healed up before the next training session in the evening.
Breakfast was alreadyid out on the long table—steamed dumplings, roasted chicken strips, fried potatoes, and freshly cut fruit slices.
To my surprise, Wanda was already there, seated with perfect posture like she’d arrived before the sun.
I had half-expected her to slink inte and dramatic now that Draven wasn’t around. But no—she was here, demure andposed. Suspiciously so.
Xamira was seated beside me, happily munching on a honeyed bun, her short legs swinging under the chair.
Dennis left the head chair unupied and remained in his usual sitting position, a slice of fruit in one hand and a knowing smirk on his face.
Breakfast had barely begun when Wanda spoke, her voice sweetlyced with feigned innocence.
"I’m going into town today," she said casually, picking at a cherry with her fork. Then she turned to Dennis.
"Hope you don’t expect me to ask your permission before I go out—or tell you where in particr that I’m going to."
I nearly sighed. Here we go.
Dennis leaned back in his chair, his arm drapingzily across the back. "Of course not," he said, tone mockingly agreeable.
"You’re always free to get into trouble without asking. Just don’t drag my brother into your mess when you do."
Wanda’s smile tightened. "What do you take me for?"
He tapped a finger on his chin in mock thought. "Do you want the long list or the short one?"
She rolled her eyes, sharp enough to cut ss and returned her attention to her food.
Xamira nced between them and frowned slightly, reaching for her spoon.
I watched the two of them bicker with the ease of enemies who’d long since learned how to poke each other’s nerves without even trying.
Normally, this kind of drama would’ve set my teeth on edge, especially during breakfast—but not today.
Because for once, someone was standing toe-to-toe with Wanda and matching her bite for bite.
Dennis didn’t need to yell, didn’t need to be cruel—his words were sharper than ws, and each one sent a subtle tremor through her carefully poised facade.
I offered Xamira another piece of chicken, and she beamed at me.
Across the table, Wanda looked like she wanted to throw her fork.
And strangely enough, I found that I was enjoying this meal far more than I should.
---
After breakfast, I walked Xamira back to her room where her nanny waited, then made my way toward the east corridor, letting the soft hush of the hallway settle my thoughts.
Just then, my phone vibrated lightly in my palm. A smile crept onto my face seeing it was Draven, even before I even answered.
"Hello?"
"How are you?" came his voice, low and smooth, with just enough gravel to make my chest flutter.
I leaned slightly against the windowsill and gazed out at the garden. "I’m fine. Just finished breakfast. It was... eventful."
A soft chuckle rumbled through the speaker. "Wanda?"
"Who else?" I smiled faintly. "But don’t worry, Dennis held the fort with just his words."
"I expected nothing less." There was a pause, then, "Here, I have a meeting today, and then there is breakfast."
"You should eat before your meetings. I know how long those can stretch."
"I will. I just wanted to check in first." His voice lowered, sincere now. "Everything okay over there?"
"Yes," I replied without hesitation. "Everything’s fine."
"Mm," he hummed knowingly. "Speaking of which, how did your first training session go?"
I let out a breath and shook my head slowly, remembering the sly grin on Dennis’s face each time he dodged my strikes without even trying.
"He’s sneaky," I admitted. "Teases more than he spars. But I think I got a feel for his rhythm eventually."
"Did he hit you?" Draven asked, his tone turning ever so slightly serious.
"No," I said, chuckling. "That’s the strange part. He didn’t. But he made it very clear that he could have. It was... humbling."
There was a pause, then Draven said softly, "Good. He’s got his own methods, but he will sharpen you. Just don’t let the teasing fool you—he takes the job seriously."
"I believe that now," I replied. "I will be better tomorrow."
"I know you will."
A quiet,fortable pause fell between us. I could hear the faint background noise of voices where he was.
"If you want to talk... about anything," he said gently, "just text me. I will call when I’m free."
His words wrapped around me like a second skin. Unexpected, yetforting.
"I will," I whispered. "Thank you."
I could almost feel his smile, even from here.
"Talk soon."
"Okay. Enjoy your breakfast."
As the call ended, I lowered the phone slowly and held it against my chest for a moment.
It was strange how much lighter I felt.
His voice, his concern, his casual warmth—it felt different. Closer. Steadier. Like a thread was slowly weaving between us, something real.
This trip... this temporary distance... was actually bringing us closer than before.
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