Chapter 4 You're Saying It Wrong

The dining hall was louder than Ari remembered.

Not noisy.

Just... full.

Voices overlapped softly beneath the clink of silverware and porcelain while warm light spilled from chandeliers overhead. Servants moved carefully between tables, quiet and efficient, blending into the background like they weren't supposed to exist at all.

Ari understood that now.

Or at least-

her body did.

She carried a tray steadily through the room without thinking, her movements automatic in ways that still unsettled her.

Turn here.

Avoid that chair.

Pour from the left.

Every step came naturally.

Like Claire had done this hundreds of times before.

Ari hated how easily she was disappearing into someone else's life.

"...Careful."

A sharp whisper snapped her from her thoughts.

Another servant nudged her arm lightly before passing by.

Ari looked up immediately.

And froze.

Emy sat near the center of the room.

Beside her.

Lady Ari.

The sight still felt unreal every time.

The woman laughed softly at something someone across the table said, posture elegant, expression composed perfectly down to the smallest detail.

Too perfectly.

Like she had studied how Ari used to sit.

How Ari used to smile.

How Ari used to exist.

Ari forced herself to move again.

Don't stare.

Just work.

She approached the table carefully, lowering her gaze as she poured tea into delicate porcelain cups one by one.

"Thank you."

The voice beside Emy was soft.

Familiar.

Wrong.

Ari's fingers tightened slightly around the teapot.

Then another guest laughed lightly.

"You and Young Master Emy really are close lately, Lady Ari."

The woman smiled gently.

"We've always been close."

Ari stared silently at the tea as she poured.

Not like this.

Not openly.

Emy used to hate attention during meals.

He always leaned away when conversations became too personal.

But now-

he simply sat there quietly while the woman beside him answered with practiced ease.

Like she knew exactly how much affection to show publicly.

Measured.

Careful.

Acceptable.

Ari suddenly realized what felt wrong about it.

She was performing intimacy.

Not living it.

"...Young Master Emy is surprisingly patient with you," another woman teased.

The table laughed softly.

The woman beside him tilted her head slightly.

"He has to be," she said lightly. "He's an idiot sometimes."

The room laughed again.

Ari stopped pouring.

That wasn't right.

The word itself was correct.

But-

the feeling wasn't there.

Emy noticed it too.

Only slightly.

A brief pause in his expression.

Small enough that nobody else would notice.

But Ari did.

Because she knew exactly how he reacted to that word.

Or how he used to.

The woman continued smiling effortlessly beside him.

Completely unaware.

Ari lowered the teapot carefully.

Then before she could stop herself-

"You're saying it wrong."

Silence.

It wasn't complete.

But close enough.

Ari realized what she had done immediately.

Too late.

Several people looked toward her in confusion.

The woman beside Emy blinked once.

"...Excuse me?"

Ari's pulse pounded painfully in her throat.

You idiot.

But the words had already escaped.

Ari kept her eyes lowered.

"You don't say it like that," she said quietly.

Another silence followed.

Longer this time.

Someone near the end of the table laughed awkwardly.

"I think the servant's confused."

The tension loosened slightly around the room.

But not entirely.

Because the woman beside Emy was still watching Ari carefully now.

Not recognition.

Interest.

Measured and calm.

"What exactly did I say wrong?" she asked gently.

Ari swallowed hard.

She shouldn't answer.

Shouldn't continue.

But the wrongness pressed too heavily against her chest to ignore.

"It's..." Ari hesitated softly.

Then quieter-

"You say it like you practiced it."

The room stilled again.

Emy looked up fully this time.

The woman's smile remained perfectly intact.

But something underneath it sharpened slightly.

"I'm not sure I understand," she said lightly.

Of course she didn't.

Because the problem wasn't the word.

It was everything around it.

Ari tightened her grip slightly against the tray.

"You only say it when you're pretending to be annoyed," she whispered.

Memories surfaced painfully in her chest.

Cold coffee.

Late nights.

Arguments that became laughter halfway through.

"You look away when you say it," Ari continued quietly. "And your voice changes a little."

Silence pressed heavily across the table.

"...That's oddly specific," someone muttered.

Ari realized too late how strange she sounded.

How impossible this was to explain.

The woman beside Emy smiled softly again.

Graceful.

Controlled.

"Maybe she spends too much time listening to conversations that don't concern her."

Gentle words.

Sharp meaning.

Several guests laughed quietly.

Ari lowered her gaze immediately.

"...Sorry."

The apology came automatically again.

She hated that.

The woman picked up her teacup elegantly.

Then softly-

"You should focus on your work, Claire."

Claire.

The name landed heavily in Ari's chest.

Not mine.

"...Yes, Lady Ari."

This time the title hurt more.

Ari turned quickly before anyone could see the expression on her face.

Then walked away carefully through the dining hall.

Steady steps.

Straight posture.

Controlled breathing.

Only once she reached the corridor outside did she finally stop.

Her fingers trembled slightly against the tray.

Stupid.

That had been unbelievably stupid.

Ari leaned briefly against the wall, closing her eyes tightly.

"She noticed," she whispered.

Not who Ari was.

But something.

Some crack in the performance.

A soft sound interrupted her thoughts.

Footsteps.

Ari looked up instantly.

Emy stood near the doorway behind her.

Alone.

Again.

Ari straightened immediately.

"Y-Young Master-"

"Why did you say that?"

The question came before she could finish.

Ari froze.

Emy stepped closer slowly.

Not angry.

Confused.

"...About the way she said it."

Ari's throat tightened.

Because he noticed too.

Maybe not consciously.

But enough to ask.

"I don't know what you mean," Ari answered quietly.

A weak lie.

Emy frowned slightly.

"You spoke like you knew."

Ari looked away immediately.

Dangerous.

Everything about this was dangerous.

"I overstepped," she murmured.

"That's not what I asked."

The words weren't harsh.

That somehow made them harder to avoid.

Ari stayed silent.

Emy watched her for a long moment.

Then quietly-

"...Have we really never met before?"

The question hurt even more the second time.

Ari forced herself to answer.

"No."

Emy studied her face carefully.

Like he was searching for something hidden underneath it.

Then slowly-

"...Strange."

Ari's heartbeat quickened painfully.

Because she knew that tone.

The one he used when something bothered him enough that he couldn't let it go.

And somehow-

that frightened her more than if he had remembered everything immediately.