Caleb’s smirk widened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he dangled the note just out of her reach. “It seems you’re rather desperate for this, my lady,” he mused, the gleam in his gaze revealing his enjoyment of her reaction. “Tell you what—I’ll return it if you answer a single question for me. Just one, and it’s yours.”

Celestia slumped back against the couch, defeated, her gaze dropping to her black skirt. “And what question would that be, my lord?” she replied, her voice quiet, her mind a murky fog. The burning was unbearable, the voices laughing at her to think she really could get help.

His smile deepened, watching her closely. “Just a simple one,” he drawled as if savoring the moment. “What’s my favorite color? Answer correctly, and this note is yours.”

She sighed, defeated. “How should I know that?” she murmured. “Not one bit of information I gathered on you covered something so trivial.” Her voice softened, resigned, as her head dipped further. She didn’t expect her answer to satisfy him, but after a beat, she whispered, “Dark green,” glancing at the green fabric of his jacket. The color seemed familiar, reassuring somehow, though she knew she was likely wrong.

To her surprise, Caleb’s smile softened, his golden gaze warming. “Dark green, is it?” he murmured, and he almost seemed to approve of her answer. “You’re right. It is my favorite color.” He leaned forward, as if drawn in, his expression considering. “Yet… I have another favorite too. Care to take a second guess, my lady?”

Celestia sighed, visibly frustrated. “You promised the note after one guess,” she said, a hint of a pout in her voice. But she couldn’t help but mutter, “Fine… purple.”

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Caleb’s smirk softened to something almost genuine, his eye glinting with faint admiration. “Purple?” He paused, watching her closely, his tone both amused and curious. “An unexpected choice, but… an apt one.”

With a glance at her trembling hands, he extended the note to her at last. “Here, my lady.” Yet as she reached for it, she seemed to falter, her expression drained and vulnerable. Suddenly, a tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another, and she quickly wiped them away.

“No, thank you, my lord,” she murmured, her voice a faint whisper. Tossing her notebook into her bag, she rose unsteadily, keeping her gaze averted. “I don’t need the help of Lord Nightglen. Good day, my lord.” Her tone was soft but edged with hurt and pain, each word weighted by disappointment. She turned and strode toward the door, her steps swift and determined.

Caleb’s amusement faded, his expression stricken as he watched her retreating form. He rose quickly, reaching her before she touched the doorknob. “Please, wait,” he said softly, his voice edged with regret. “I didn’t intend to make you feel this way… truly. I thought it harmless, but clearly, I misjudged—”

“Please step aside, my lord.” Her voice trembled, but it held a note of finality, her face streaked with tears she didn’t bother to hide. “If I wanted to be teased, I could find it elsewhere.”

The pain in her words stung him, and his gaze dropped, remorse flickering in his golden eye. “Lady Pendragon,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “I apologize. I only meant it in jest. It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”

She looked down at her hand, still resting on the doorknob, and then at him, her expression unreadable, a flicker of disappointment and sadness in her eyes. “Goodbye, my lord,” she whispered, voice thick with the effort of holding herself together. Celestia gave up, no one would help her. After a lingering glance, Caleb finally stepped aside, his remorse evident as he watched her.