Lalu Rue Mga Nobela at Kwento

Aaron compliments. “Thank you,” I respond. “May I know your name?” Aaron asks me. “Cora.” “Hi Cora, I’m Gaia,” Aaron’s Luna says. We exchange pleasantries and relax in the garden. “What’s your say on this season’s tournament?” Aaron asks Zane. “It’s going to be more brutal than the last time but we all who’s going home with the victory,” Zane smirks. Aaron adjusts uncomfortably in his seat, “We can’t possibly conclude on that. The first level is yet to begin, you might attract bad luck if you imagine too much.”

Let’s focus” I and Ava laughed, our voices mixing with the bustling noise of the city. Emma and Hazel had a thing for disagreeing with each other, but either way, we always knew we were friends for life. As we got further away from the station and into the streets, Hazel stopped a Cab and we entered. The cab took us to the Inégalé. It was owned by a French man according to Hazel, hence the name. The cab stopped us and we alighted to see a monumental alluring glass building with different colors of the spectrum dazzling from all edges, such that they all seemed to meet at a point above the building to form a twinkling shiny star displaying the name INÉGALÉ.

Then I ducked in after her, and the door shut behind us with a firm click. The ride through the city was surprisingly peaceful. I'd half-expected some over-the-top security detail or even hidden tension, but Mr. Duvall was calm and professional, pointing out landmarks and statues as we passed. The windows were down halfway, just enough to let in the scent of fresh baguettes and sweet pastries wafting from bakeries we cruised by. "That's the Cathédrale Saint-Louis," Mr. Duvall explained. "Built in the eighteenth century. Still rings its bells every hour."

I turned and left before he could argue again. The drive felt longer than it should have, even with my foot heavy on the accelerator. The city lights blurred past, familiar streets twisting into quieter ones, places where people didn’t look too closely and sounds didn’t carry far. Rue des Pâquis was exactly the kind of place things like this happened. Too close to the docks and too many abandoned buildings pretending to be forgotten.

Cassia said with a smile, her friends chuckling in agreement. "You look like you’ve just discovered the meaning of life," Quinn teased, nudging her playfully. "Because I have," Cassia replied dramatically, holding up her croissant like a trophy. Cassia and her friends continued strolling down Rue de Belleville, their laughter blending with the hum of street vendors and passing tourists. They wandered through Le Marais, one of the most charming neighborhoods in Paris, eating as they walked. Quinn kept stopping to snap photos, insisting that Kiara and Cassia pose in front of colorful doors and quaint boutiques.

"Lady Lune, if you're ready, I’ll escort you downstairs." Lune nodded, following the maid as they made their way back down the long corridor. The soft rustle of her gown was the only sound as they descended the grand staircase. As they reached the bottom step, Lune looked up, and there, standing at the far end of the dining hall, was Arlo.

Gia felt relieved. “Seatbelt,” Raven said as Gia sat without buckling up. “Oh… right." Raven ensured Gia wore it before driving at maximum legal speed. He didn’t want to risk a police chase ruining his plans. Their journey to Neive had taken about an hour and fifty-five minutes. On the way back, Raven reduced it to just an hour and a half. They arrived at Villa Lauri before midnight. The hotel’s ambiance reminded Gia of Château Eza—exclusive and expensive. The serene exterior showcased a beautiful white building. Raven flashed a card from his wallet to the gatekeeper, and the gates opened immediately.

Rue stopped Isla. Isla nodded and took a seat opposite Rue. She then asked, “Dear, are you Adrian’s mother?” Rue said, “Yes. My name is Rue Blanchet, and just like you, my husband has passed away. However, I’ve been more fortunate in life. “Adrian told me about your family’s situation. I myself have a son and a daughter. My daughter is nineteen years old and she’s attending university now.” “That’s nice. My daughter is almost eighteen too,” Isla said.

Not with so much unsaid. Moments later, Lauren quietly rose from her seat, murmuring something to Richard about needing fresh air. He barely looked up, too engaged in a conversation about oil shares and real estate with his cousin. She stepped through the side hallway, past the conservatory, and out onto the cool evening patio. The air smelled of jasmine and stone. Crickets chirped lazily under the garden hedges. There, by the marble fountain framed in climbing roses, stood Louis. He didn’t turn when she approached.

“A pleasure.” They sat. The silence stretched briefly—charged, delicate. Layla was the first to break it. “You don’t look like a literary scout.” He smiled softly. “That’s because I’m not, really.” Her brows lifted. “I mean,” he clarified, “it’s not my full-time identity. Rue d’Ether is a side passion. Something I fund and curate outside of my… usual world.” She tilted her head. “And what world is that?” He hesitated just long enough to draw curiosity.