Time unfolded gently within the shelter of the cave.
What had once been a place of uncertainty slowly became something else—something calmer, almost sacred. The tension that had followed them from the forest, from their pasts, from their curses… began to loosen its grip, even if only for a while.
Days passed—not counted, not measured—just felt.
And in those quiet moments, something unfamiliar grew between them.
Comfort.
Lia sat near the mouth of the cave, her gaze drifting toward the forest beyond. The soft rustling of leaves, the filtered sunlight slipping through branches, the distant hum of life—it all felt strangely soothing.
For the first time since the death of her parents…
She felt at peace.
Not completely.
Not permanently.
But enough to breathe without the weight crushing her chest.
She drew in a slow breath, her fingers lightly brushing against the stone beside her. The air here was different from the sea—lighter, freer—but no longer suffocating.
Behind her, Akira leaned against the cave wall, watching her.
He had noticed it.
The way her shoulders no longer tensed at every sound. The way her eyes softened when she thought no one was looking. The way she allowed herself—just slightly—to exist without fear.
It made something in him ease.
But it also stirred something else.
Curiosity.
"…What is it like?"
Lia blinked, turning slightly. "What?"
Akira shifted, straightening a little, his expression changing—less guarded now, more open.
"The sea," he said. "What is it like?"
There was something almost boyish in the way he asked it.
And before he could stop himself, the questions began to spill out.
"Is it like this?" he gestured vaguely around them. "Or completely different? How do you even… move all the time with a tail instead of legs? Do you… breathe water? Or swallow it? And how do you cook? Is there fire underwater?"
He paused only to take a breath—then continued.
"Is it quiet? Or loud? Are there… homes? Streets? Do you sleep the same way we do?"
Lia stared at him for a moment.
Then—
She laughed.
A soft laugh at first, then brighter, freer.
It caught him off guard instantly.
Akira froze mid-thought, his expression snapping back into something more composed as he cleared his throat lightly.
"I was just asking," he muttered, looking away slightly.
But Lia couldn't stop smiling.
In that moment, the feared Alpha—the cursed leader of the White Wolves—looked… human.
Curious.
Unfiltered.
Almost childlike.
And it made something warm bloom in her chest.
"I didn't know you had this side," she said, her voice laced with amusement.
Akira glanced at her briefly, then away again.
"Everyone does."
Their eyes met for a brief second—
And they both smiled.
Then Lia shifted slightly, settling more comfortably as her expression softened.
"If you really want to know…" she began quietly, "the sea is a very vast world."
Her voice changed as she spoke.
Softer.
Deeper.
Filled with something more than just memory.
"It's bigger than you can imagine," she continued. "Far beyond what your eyes can see. It gives us everything we need."
Akira listened closely now, his earlier curiosity grounding into focus.
"The sea…" Lia paused, her gaze drifting slightly, "it speaks."
Akira's brow furrowed slightly.
"It protects," she added. "It guides… and it shields us."
Every word carried weight.
Emotion.
Longing.
Akira could hear it clearly now.
She missed it.
More than she was saying.
"The sea is home to countless creatures," she continued. "Some you may know… many you never will. It holds different nations, kingdoms… entire worlds within it."
Akira leaned forward slightly, drawn in.
"Different rulers?" he asked.
Lia nodded.
"Yes."
She hesitated briefly before continuing.
"Do you remember the name of my kingdom?" she asked.
Akira thought for a moment, then shook his head slightly.
A faint smile touched her lips.
"It was one of the most peaceful kingdoms in the ocean," she said.
And as she spoke—
Her entire expression changed.
"The streets were always alive," she continued, her voice warming. "Clams and shrimp merchants displaying colorful fabrics and treasures. Music echoing through the currents. Laughter everywhere…"
Akira could see it through her words.
The life.
The color.
The joy.
"The city never truly slept," she added.
Akira blinked.
"Wait," he interrupted. "There's… day and night under the sea too?"
Lia nodded, a small smile returning.
"Yes," she said. "In our own way."
Akira leaned back slightly, clearly intrigued.
"The unicorn fish and prawns would sing and perform," she continued, her voice almost glowing now. "Every day felt like a celebration."
Her eyes shimmered faintly with the memory.
"Festivals were the most beautiful," she added. "They were the moments everyone waited for."
Akira watched her closely now.
This—
This was a different Lia.
"When the festivals began," she continued, "citizens who lived far away would return home. And visitors from other parts of the ocean would come as well."
Her smile widened.
"We would see the great mother whales… and the Awkafinas."
Akira's brows lifted slightly, impressed despite himself.
"It sounds…" he paused, searching for the right word, "…alive."
"It is," Lia said softly.
She didn't notice the way Akira was looking at her now.
Not just listening—
But observing.
Memorizing.
He could tell.
This was before everything changed.
Before the curse defined her.
Before loss carved itself into her life.
"The celebrations were unforgettable," she continued. "Music, performances, unity…"
She paused, then added with a hint of excitement:
"And during those times… maidens chose their husbands."
Akira straightened immediately.
"They what?"
Lia laughed lightly at his reaction.
"They choose," she repeated, clearly amused.
"Not the men?" he asked quickly.
She shook her head, a playful pride slipping into her expression.
"No. The women hold more authority."
Akira blinked.
"The queen rules," she added. "Not the king."
Akira nodded slowly, absorbing that.
Then his gaze shifted slightly.
To her.
For a brief moment, a thought crossed his mind—
She would have been a queen…
If not for the curse.
If not for everything that had taken that future from her.
But he said nothing.
Lia continued, unaware of his thoughts.
"The mermen would showcase their strength, their skills… their beauty," she said.
Akira raised a brow slightly.
"Beauty?" he repeated.
Lia smiled.
"Yes."
Then—
Akira tilted his head slightly, a hint of mischief slipping into his voice.
"If you were still there," he said, "and there was no prophecy about you…"
He paused briefly.
"Which one would you have chosen?"
Lia blinked.
Then smiled.
A small, almost shy smile.
"I would have chosen Guiknal," she said.
Akira's expression shifted instantly.
"Guiknal?" he repeated.
"He's tall," she continued, clearly enjoying herself now. "Brilliant… strong… and very handsome."
Akira looked away slightly.
Something about that didn't sit well with him.
He wasn't sure why.
A faint, almost invisible tension crept into his posture.
Handsome, huh…
What he didn't know—
Was that Lia was lying.
There was no Guiknal.
No merman she had ever admired.
Her life in the sea had never allowed her that kind of freedom.
That kind of choice.
But for once—
She wanted to feel normal.
To speak as if she had once lived without fear.
And maybe…
To see his reaction.
Her eyes flickered briefly toward him.
And she caught it.
That subtle shift.
That quiet hint of jealousy.
It made her smile widen just a little.
Akira didn't notice.
Or maybe he did—and chose to ignore it.
Silence settled between them again.
But this time—
It was softer.
Warmer.
Filled with something neither of them dared to name.
Lia leaned back slightly, her gaze drifting upward.
She couldn't believe it.
She was talking about the sea…
And smiling.
The same sea that had once been a source of pain.
Of fear.
Of isolation.
And yet—
Now, it felt different.
Lighter.
Her eyes shifted slowly toward Akira.
He sat across from her, calm, present.
Real.
And a quiet realization settled within her.
Maybe…
He is the reason.
But even as that thought formed—
Another followed.
Heavier.
More fragile.
How long will this last?
The peace.
The laughter.
This strange, fragile happiness.
Because deep down—
She knew.
Their worlds were not meant to stay this way.
And sooner or later—
Something would come to remind them.