Chapter 119: A Girl’s Restraint

Chapter 119: Chapter 119: A Girl’s Restraint

Chapter 119: A Girl’s Restraint

On the second floor of the old apartment building, Cyrus Calder sat at his table with the lunch box Daphne Whitlock had brought from next door resting near his notebook.

The container was empty now.

That was the most troubling part. It had been good enough that he had finished everything before remembering that accepting food from Daphne always carried a future cost. Food had a way of making the world feel kinder than it was, especially when it came in a clean container, still warm, with enough seasoning to make cafeteria meals feel like punishment.

Cyrus opened his notebook and wrote down the day’s events.

The false accusation from class took up a few lines. Owen’s situation took a few more. Audra’s apology and the ring required a brief note, though he left out anything that would make no sense if someone else read it without context.

The rest of the day seemed strangely empty.

There was no point wasting much ink on how he handled certain women at The Full Moon Lounge. Rhea Maddox trying to catch his hand across the bar did not need an entire entry. If he wrote down every attempt at casual contact, the notebook would become a workplace complaint log, and he needed it for something more serious than that.

After a few rushed lines, Cyrus paused with the pen in his hand.

It was fine.

A diary did not need to solve everything in one night. Small entries added up. If the memory problem continued, a steady record would matter more than a perfect one.

He turned to a fresh page and wrote several names.

These were people who, based on the evidence so far, seemed at least somewhat useful or decent.

A few classmates. Owen, obviously. Faye, though her food-related value made the category complicated. Malcolm Baird and Helena Baird from the lounge. One customer. One neighbor.

Cyrus stared at the list.

Good and bad were not clear categories.

Some people were kind in ways that left him unsure what they wanted. Some looked good on the surface, but their behavior made him want to place emergency notes beside their names. Others were probably only interested because they wanted him.

If he managed to escape that woman from his past completely, maybe being wanted could become a reward instead of a threat.

He added small stars beside a few names.

Beside Audra Sloane’s name, he wrote ring, then added a question mark.

If she brought the glamourkin ring tomorrow, he could test what kind of effect another rare-blood artifact had. Whether it could help against Isolde was unknown, but unknown was better than helpless.

With nothing else to write, Cyrus reviewed the recorded memories from the beginning. The details matched what he remembered. Nothing seemed missing.

At the bottom of the day’s entry, he added one more sentence.

Today’s memory remains intact.

He washed Daphne’s lunch box, dried it, and set it aside to return. After that, he went to bed and fell asleep quickly.

Later that night, a door opened by a careful sliver.

A figure stood outside Cyrus’s apartment.

The security chain stopped the door from opening any farther.

Daphne Whitlock looked at the narrow gap, then at the chain.

"You really do have to be this cautious every single night, do you?"

Her voice stayed low enough not to wake the neighbors.

The chain did not answer.

Daphne’s fingers rested against the door for several seconds before she withdrew them.

"Every extra night you lock me out goes on the record," she murmured. "When I get the chance, I will make you pay all of it back."

The door closed again.

The next morning, Cyrus dragged himself out of bed, washed up, and began comparing his memory against the diary while biting down on an energy gel packet.

Two days had passed since he discovered the missing memory problem. So far, the diary check had not shown further loss.

That was good.

It also suggested the ring might need a trigger before it stole anything. If Cyrus could identify the condition, avoiding it should become simple.

Morning light came through the window, thin and clear.

For once, the future looked almost manageable.

When he opened his apartment door, he found Daphne in the hallway with another packed lunch, as if coincidence had decided to become a schedule.

The greeting between them was brief and ordinary.

Cyrus had become much better at accepting his neighbor’s kindness without being dragged too far into the emotional part of it. Daphne’s thoughts were not subtle. They sat in her expression, her timing, and the way she remembered what he ate even when he had not told her directly.

Still, rent was not due for a while.

He had the alarm device in his possession now.

At worst, Daphne would look at him a few extra times. If letting someone look meant his rent stayed easier to manage, the math favored him.

At St. Alder Academy, Cyrus had barely set his bag down when he noticed Owen and Iris standing beside his desk.

He waited for the explanation.

"Cyrus," Iris said.

"What is it?"

Then Owen and Iris both bowed slightly.

Iris spoke first.

"What happened yesterday came from my own bias. I caused trouble for you and affected how people saw you. I am sorry. I also owe Faye an apology."

Faye, who had been sitting quietly nearby, looked up in surprise when she heard her name.

"I am okay," Cyrus said.

"It is all right," Faye added softly.

Cyrus did not feel much need to drag the issue out. Iris had apologized in front of enough classmates for the act itself to matter. That was not a small thing at St. Alder, where reputation moved faster than official announcements and lasted longer than punishment.

At least now, the students with enough sense would stop treating him and Faye like thieves.

Cyrus could endure suspicion if necessary. Faye had no reason to carry it with him.

He looked at Owen, then at Iris.

Iris was watching him with a hard-to-read expression. It did not look apologetic in the usual way. It felt more like assessment.

Cyrus did not understand it.

That was fine. He did not need to understand everything if he knew not to stand too close.

Their eyes met for only a breath before each of them looked away and returned to their seats.

The morning classes passed in an ordinary blur.

By the final class before lunch, Daphne stood at the front of the room, teaching with the same graceful authority that made students pay attention even when they had no interest in the material.

Cyrus watched her and, not for the first time, struggled to connect the woman at the board with the woman who kept appearing at his apartment door.

She was far too good at separating public and private behavior.

The separation was almost impressive.

Unfortunately, it was also what made her worse.

If Daphne taught very young children instead of final-year students, Cyrus suspected she would have ended up ruining several lives and then finding a way to sound responsible about it. The thought came and went while she wrote on the board in clean, elegant handwriting.

Now and then, Daphne’s attention passed over him.

Whenever their eyes met, Cyrus thought he could read something in hers that did not belong in a classroom.

Her punishment, if the world were fair, would probably come in the smallest caliber possible. The question was whether anything that small could get through her face.

His phone vibrated inside his desk.

The movement was faint, but Audra turned her head slightly from the row ahead.

Cyrus noticed, lowered his hand, and slipped the phone out with care.

Audra: I brought the ring. Let’s meet in the fourth-floor classroom after class.

Cyrus: All right.

When Cyrus lifted his head again, Daphne was no longer at the front.

She was standing beside his desk.

"Hand it over."

She had definitely been watching him.

Cyrus looked at her in silence, then surrendered the phone under the attention of the class.

The brief interruption did not become a real problem. Even Cyrus was not especially worried. He could collect it after school, and he had already answered Audra.

When the bell rang, Cyrus ate the lunch Daphne had prepared before going to the fourth-floor classroom.

Audra had not arrived yet. The room was empty, with chairs and desks stacked near the back. Cyrus opened a window to let the colder air drift in. Fresh air would not stop a glamourkin artifact from working, but it made the room feel less closed in.

He did not wait long.

Audra appeared in the doorway.

"I am sorry," she said as soon as she entered. "You lost your phone because of my message."

"It is fine. I will pick it up after school."

Cyrus did not care enough to blame her. His attention went directly to the important matter.

"Where is the ring that affected you?"

"Give me a second."

Audra nodded but did not take it out immediately. First, she turned and drew the hallway-side curtain closed.

The classroom dimmed.

Cyrus understood the precaution. A rare-blood artifact was not the sort of thing either of them needed a passing student to notice.

At least Audra had not locked the door.

When she turned back, her hands rose to her collarbone. A thin cord appeared between her fingers, and at the end of it hung the familiar pink-stoned ring, drawn up from beneath her uniform blouse.

Cyrus did not focus on the exposed curve of skin or the deliberate way she brought the cord forward.

His attention fixed on the ring.

A faint pink sheen seemed to sit inside the stone.

Audra noticed exactly where he was looking and felt a small complaint rise in her chest.

She had adjusted her collar before coming here.

He had not cared at all.

Cyrus’s head swam for an instant when he saw the ring again. The feeling vanished so quickly that he could not tell whether it had truly happened.

"What did the ring do to you after you wore it?"

"I am not sure," Audra said, lowering her voice. "It felt like the ring controlled me. When I came back to myself, I had already done something I should not have done."

Her eyes dipped.

She still had pride. Saying aloud that the ring had magnified her desire for him was beyond what she could manage in a classroom.

Cyrus did not notice her restraint. He was too focused on the artifact.

The ring definitely had side effects.

"Under what condition does it control the person using it?"

"After using it three times, I think."

Audra gave the number without much hesitation.

She had used it more than three times already. If he reached the count and nothing happened, she could find another explanation.

She placed the ring in her palm and extended it toward him.

"Do you want to try using it first?"

"On you?"

"Yes."

"You trust me that much?"

"I do trust you."

Audra nodded several times, and Cyrus found himself without a suitable expression.

The sudden trust looked too direct.

Maybe he should trust her too.

After a moment, he pushed her hand back.

"No. Use it on me first. I want to see the effect from the receiving side."

Audra’s lips parted.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I trust you too."

Her throat moved slightly.

Her attention dropped, almost by instinct, to his mouth.

That was bad.

Audra Sloane, have some restraint. You already decided not to depend on the ring.

Cyrus watched her suddenly shake her head.

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong."

Audra steadied herself and returned to her composed expression.

"Once I put the ring on, when you look at it, you will become like a doll. I can direct you however I want. Are you truly okay with that?"

"I am."

Cyrus’s thoughts moved quickly.

If the ring could do that, then it was an incredible tool. If he could borrow it against Isolde, it might become the most useful object he had encountered since escaping. He still had the ring Isolde had prepared for him, which might have protective value, and Audra seemed normal enough that he did not expect her to do anything extreme while he was defenseless.

Trust should go both ways.

If she jumped, he would jump.

In the dim classroom, Cyrus watched as Audra slid the ring onto her slender finger.

The moment he saw the pink stone clearly, his thoughts scattered.

"Cyrus?"

Audra called his name carefully.

He did not respond.

He stood in front of her, quiet and unfocused.

She could do anything to him now.

Audra’s breathing shifted. Her fingers tightened at her sides, then loosened again. The thought arrived too easily. If she crossed another line, she could blame the ring afterward, at least on the surface.

The excuse was right there.

Her throat moved once.

In the next breath, her resistance almost collapsed.

Audra stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

She held him lightly, as if pressing harder would make the choice worse. Her face rested near his neck, and she breathed in.

His scent entered her without permission, clean and faintly cold, impossible to mistake now that she was this close.

For now, this was enough.

She did nothing more.

Her pride, her restraint, and the future she had imagined with him barely managed to overpower the desire the ring had dragged closer to the surface.

The entire moment passed quickly.

A snap of her fingers cut through the classroom.

Cyrus returned to himself without knowing what had happened. From his point of view, Audra’s posture had merely changed.

"Is it over?"

"Yes."

Audra lowered her eyes and removed the ring, placing it back in her palm.

The impulse that had surged through her eased slowly once the artifact left her finger.

Perhaps if she controlled the number of uses and the days between them, the effect on her would not become too serious.

Cyrus frowned slightly.

This still was not enough to confirm how reliable the ring was.

"Could you do it again and try leaving some kind of mark?"

Audra looked up at once, surprise showing clearly in her face.

Did he truly not know how much temptation he presented?

"What is wrong?" Cyrus asked.

"Nothing is wrong," Audra said. "Are you ready?"

"I am ready."

Audra put the ring on again.

Cyrus’s focus emptied the instant he looked at the stone.

A restrained breath sounded in the classroom.

Audra’s feelings tangled again, hotter this time because she no longer needed to pretend the risk was accidental. She stepped closer and, after a brief hesitation, kissed the corner of his mouth.

The touch was light and short.

It left no visible trace.

This was the last time she would depend on the ring.

Next time, she would make him kiss her while he was awake and choosing it.

Audra made the vow silently, then took out the pen she had brought with her.

She lifted Cyrus’s hand and began writing on his palm. As she held his fingers, her attention caught on something she had not allowed herself to examine closely before.

A plain, unobtrusive ring rested on his ring finger.

The finger mattered.

So did the ring.

The things Cyrus had said before returned to her.

He still had someone he could not forget, even after losing his memories.

Audra sighed quietly.

If she won him before he remembered that person, would that count as taking advantage of him?

This was becoming difficult.

Her thoughts remained unsettled as she finished writing, stepped back, and snapped her fingers.

Across both uses, she had controlled him for less than two minutes.

Cyrus blinked and returned to himself.

Audra appeared to be standing almost exactly where she had been before. That made the ring’s effect feel doubtful from his side, as if only a breath had passed.

"Look at your palm," Audra said.

Cyrus lowered his eyes.

A neat, elegant A had been written across his palm.

The ink had not dried yet. When he examined it more closely, a faint strawberry scent rose from the mark.

It came from the same pen Audra had bought when they were preparing for the school event together.

The proof sat directly on his skin.

Only then did Cyrus fully understand what the ring could do.

Before he could express any awe at the artifact, Audra had already extended her hand with a poised, lovely confidence, silently offering him the right to use it next.