Almost everyone had left the arena, but Aramith hadn't left his seat.
Mozrael sat quietly beside him, fingers tightening on her sleeve.
His mood had changed the moment Kesha made her appearance, but she didn't remember anyone like that, and she hesitated to ask.
He looked so tense, she didn't know how to help him calm down.
"Mozrael," he suddenly said, freezing her as she attempted to hold his hand.
"You should go ahead. I want to ask Lynnor something."
She didn't want to go. It felt so wrong, though she didn't know why.
There was this lingering feeling that something would go wrong.
"I—"
"Just go, I'll join later."
She looked at Lynnor for help, but the woman just shook her head. "You can't force yourself to stay back. Don't worry. I'll make sure he doesn't go chasing after other girls," Lynnor tried to joke.
But the atmosphere was too tense for laughter.
Once she was out of the arena, Aramith looked dead in Lynnor's eyes.
