Taking a deep breath, Ambra headed towards the drawing room. There was a brief moment of unease, a fleeting question of what awaited her. Yet as she walked through the now vaguely familiar halls of Duke Altair's estate, she steeled herself for whatever Lady Camila may have in store for her. Lady Camila seemed to think it was a conversation worth having, and despite her reservations, Ambra had to agree, especially considering her tone.

And so, she arrived at the drawing room, her footsteps soft on the rich carpet. She took a seat on the comfortable couch Lady Camila had sat on before. It really was as comfortable as she had thought. However, even that comfort couldn't distract her from thinking of what Lady Camila had wanted to discuss. Each passing second seemed to accentuate the growing sense of curiosity.

As the door finally creaked open and Lady Camila entered, dressed in more casual but still elegant attire, Ambra looked up. The young noble girl seemed almost hesitant as she closed the door behind her. But when her eyes met Ambra's, they were filled with a strange resolve that was impossible to ignore.

In the elegantly furnished drawing room, golden sunlight filtered through the delicate curtains, casting a warm glow on the two girls seated on a plush couch. Ambra fiddled with her hands, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "So, uh Your Highness. What was it you wanted to discuss?"

"Please, just Camila," the royal insisted, her eyes twinkling as though she'd just confided a secret. "I wish everyone would drop the formality and just call me by my name."

Taken aback but pleasantly surprised, Ambra breathed a sigh of relief. "I can't tell you how much easier that makes things for me. Noble customs always felt like walking through a maze blindfolded."

Camila chuckled, her laughter like a pleasant melody. "I can imagine. Actually, I was very thankful for how freely you and even Laura spoke to me. I wish I could be so... unencumbered by the societal rules of nobility."

Ambra let out a genuine laugh. "Laura does have a way of cutting through the pretense. She's unapologetically herself, whether she's in a barn or a ballroom. You should have seen how casually she acted when we first met despite the weird context in which we met."

"Oh, I would've paid good money to witness that," Camila said, laughing along.

But as quickly as the laughter came, it ebbed away. Ambra leaned in, meeting Camila's eyes earnestly. "So, what was it we needed to discuss, Camila?"

Hearing her name emphasized made Camila smile, but the expression was fleeting. Her face turned serious, and she sighed deeply before taking a seat beside Ambra on the couch. "I appreciate how easily we've come to this casual manner of speaking, Ambra. And it's because of this newfound... openness that I feel the need to ask you a couple of things."

The atmosphere shifted tangibly, becoming heavy and almost foreboding. Camila's eyes, usually so vibrant, seemed clouded with worry. She stared into the space before her as if gathering the strength to continue.

The atmosphere remained heavy as Camila's gaze fixed on Ambra, her eyes alight with an intensity that was almost enthralling. "May I see your weapon?" she asked abruptly.

Caught off guard, Ambra hesitated for a split second before complying. She reached for her worn platinum sword, laying it gently across her lap. The blade was dull, marred by her battle with Lilith, its once-vibrant holy energy reduced to a mere flicker.

Camila took the sword, examining it carefully with a practiced eye. "Tell me about this sword. Its aura...it's unusual."

Fighting the rising tension within her, Ambra chose her words carefully. "It's just an old, chipped sword. Its value to me is sentimental more than anything else."

Camila seemed to accept this, laying the sword back on the table. "I see." She paused, weighing her next words as if they carried immense gravity. "What about your strength? And your relationship with Lune? You two seem...very close."

The question took Ambra by surprise, sending her thoughts into a whirlwind of panic. Camila was probing, dangerously close to uncovering the secret she had tried to keep. Ambra cursed inwardly. How could she have been so thoughtless? Revealing both her homeland and her true name during the first day of meeting each other now seemed like a monumental mistake.

Thinking quickly, Ambra chose to deflect. "Lune and I are only recent friends," she said cautiously. "But I think you may be overestimating both my strength and our relationship, we've only just met recently, you could ask Marquis Julian about that to check."

"Yeah, he did mention that when I asked." Camila stared at her, and for a moment, Ambra thought she had been found out. But then, the royal's eyes softened, almost as if she were relieved. "Alright, if you say so."

Ambra felt like she had dodged a crossbow bolt. Her heart still raced, but for the moment, she was safe. And yet, the look in Camila's eyes— a blend of intensity, relief, and perhaps a touch of sadness— left her questioning.

Just what was Camila up to? And how much did she already know?

The sunlight seemed to dim just a bit as if shadowing the doubts and secrets that lay between them. 

Ambra sensed the shift in Camila's demeanor; the questions were becoming more pointed, less casual. The room, adorned with its plush furniture and intricate tapestries, suddenly felt like a luxurious cage. She began contemplating an exit strategy. Would it be rude to leave abruptly? Yet before she could consider her options further, Camila fired off another probing question.

"Are you stronger than the Aegis?" Camila asked, her voice tinged with earnest curiosity. "When we sparred, even briefly, you had an overwhelming presence. Like an insurmountable mountain. Even while fighting a half-asleep Laura, who is no slouch, I never felt such pressure."

Ambra chuckled nervously, her thoughts racing. "You're overestimating me. You haven't seen the Aegis fight with full power yet. If you had, you wouldn't be making such a comparison." She wore a wry smile, shaking her head dismissively, but inside, her thoughts were a tempest.

Camila seemed unconvinced. "No, it's not just that. There's something about you—"

Cutting her off, Ambra insisted, "Really, it is just that. The Aegis is far more formidable than you could imagine."

For a moment, Camila looked almost crestfallen. She paused, studying Ambra's face as if searching for an answer to an unspoken question. Then her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, scrutinizing, contemplating.

If Ambra were indeed the hero, she would have taken one of the many cues to reveal her identity. Camila had offered ample opportunity, but Ambra remained steadfast in her denials. This was puzzling and frustrating for Camila, who seemed to be on the brink of revealing something so significant.

Camila sighed softly, relenting. "Very well. If you say so."

Ambra felt a knot in her stomach loosen, though not entirely. Something was different now. The air between them had changed, charged with unspoken thoughts and hidden suspicions.

As if sensing the tension, Camila stood up. "Well, thank you for indulging my questions, Ambra. And for giving me some...interesting points to ponder."

Ambra also rose, nodding. "It's been a pleasure, Camila."

The words hung in the air, tinged with ironies only they could fathom. Camila escorted Ambra to the door, their footsteps echoing faintly on the polished floor. As Ambra stepped out into the hallway, she felt both relief and an inexplicable sense of questioning.

However, just as Ambra took her first step away from the drawing-room, the door behind her swung open with a soft creak. "Wait," Camila called out, her voice tinged with a desperation that Ambra had never heard before from her. "I have one last question."

Ambra's heart felt like it was being gripped in an iron fist. She was on the edge, teetering over an abyss she had worked so hard to avoid. Her thoughts were a chaotic whirl, each one screaming at her to merely leave, to end this perilous exchange. But Camila's eyes—filled with an urgency that was almost palpable—pierced through her defenses.

"Please," Camila continued, her voice almost cracking, "just this one. Will you answer it?"

Ambra looked into Camila's eyes and saw a sincerity, a raw need to know, that she could not turn away from. "Fine," she sighed, "just one."

Taking a deep breath as though steadying herself, Camila asked, "Your name, Ambra. It's the same as the Hero of Nuberia, the one who defeated the Vampire Queen and then vanished. Are you... are you that Ambra?"

For a heartbeat, time seemed to freeze. The question hung in the air, heavy as a storm cloud, and at that moment, Ambra felt every fiber of her being scream in silent turmoil. She saw flashes of her past—the battles, the victories, and the eventual, transformation that made her relinquish her title and hide the way she was now. She thought of the price she had paid, the friends who had died at the hands of Lilith, the solitude she had now been thrust into, the obscurity she had hidden in. And now, faced with this young royal, she questioned what would happen if the world discovered the shattered remnants of the Hero they once idolized.

"Please," Camila's voice trembled, pulling Ambra from her internal chaos. "You saved us. You saved the entire continent. Why are you hiding? You don't have to fight anymore if you don't want to. But why...why vanish when you're the one who ended it all?"

Ambra felt cornered, her heart pounding against her ribcage as if trying to escape the conflict that ensnared her. Finally, she looked down, avoiding Camila's desperate gaze. "I'm not her," she said, her voice icy and remote, the words cutting through the air like shards of glass.

Camila seemed to recoil as if struck. Her eyes widened, her face draining of color. For a moment, she looked as if she were about to say something, but then her lips trembled and no words came out. What filled the room instead was a palpable, heartbreaking silence.

A weighty stillness settled between them, thick with a sense of loss and the ruins of dreams. The fantasy of a hero’s triumphant return had been shattered, replaced by a more complicated reality neither could easily accept nor understand. For Camila, it was the crumbling of an ideal she had long held close to her heart. For Ambra, it was another ghost added to a haunting she could never escape.

In that uncomfortable quiet, Camila's eyes glossed over with a sheen of tears, as if mourning the death of a long-held belief, while Ambra felt as though she’d just buried another fragment of her past. It was a moment of undeniable sadness, a divide that neither heroism nor nobility could bridge. And in that silence, they both understood that something irrevocable had occurred—a realization, a shattering of illusions—that would change the trajectory of their paths forever.

"Your sword," Camila broke the silence, her voice barely more than a whisper, "that's the Hero's sword, isn't it? It's made of platinum. Our Alturan royal family has a similar sword. But yours...yours is worn, almost broken. What happened to it?"

Ambra's hand gripped the doorknob, her knuckles turning white. Every word from Camila felt like a needle pricking at wounds she had long tried to keep hidden, wounds that still bled.

"Camila, I've already told you. I'm not her," she said, her voice softer now, tinged with a weariness she couldn't disguise.

Tears started streaming down Camila's face. Her next words came as a barely audible sob, "I'm sorry... for all my questions, for prying into your life. I just... I wanted to meet the Hero—the one who didn't have to fight but chose to. But I guess I was wrong."

For a moment, Ambra hesitated, her hand still on the doorknob. She looked back at Camila, her eyes meeting the young woman's tear-filled gaze. And in that brief exchange, something unspoken passed between them—a raw, painful understanding that bridged the chasm of their experiences, if only for an instant. The cloak obscuring her face now weighed more than ever and her fangs ached with intense pain.

Finally, Ambra opened the door. "Farewell, Camila," she said, her voice soft but resolute.

Camila looked up, her eyes locking onto Ambra's one last time. "Thank you," she whispered, but whether it was an expression of gratitude for the past or for this moment of piercing honesty, neither could tell.

------

FiammaCami

Hello!

This is to make up for yesterday's lack of double update. I will be updating tonight as per usual.

This chapter was quite difficult to write. It's hard to decide what to include in a confrontation like this, especially when in some cases, less is more. But not stating stuff either can come off as a plot hole. In this case, Camila is not dumb. She had already suspected Ambra to be the Hero even before Marquis Julian told her the name of the Nuberian Hero, so this chapter was just wrapping all of the little pieces together, as Camila finally gets the courage to ask such a thing.

Hopefully, that works as an explanation on my reasoning behind this chapter.

As per usual, thank you for reading.

See you in a few hours!

-Fia