Lysander had been carrying a weight of guilt, fully aware that Thalassa blamed him for the events that had transpired.

"Before I lost consciousness, the promise I made to you, you didn't take it to heart, did you?"

Three years ago, he had risked his life to save Thalassa, and right before falling into a coma, he told her that from then on, they would be even. He owed his life to her mother, and with his latest act, they were squared away.

"I didn't," Thalassa started to object.

Lysander said, "You've looked after me for three years, hired the best doctors to cure my illness. Don't you think, with all this care and the effort in finding a doctor, that I owe you?"

"I"

to my debt?" Lysander's deep, probing eyes fixated on her,

felt even more flustered, her well-prepared arguments slipping away, leaving her unsure of how to respond. "You don't owe me anything." After struggling to piece her

to leave, but my grandfather who asked you to go. Why didn't you tell me?" Lysander, seemingly ignoring her defense, continued to press. Thalassa's eyes widened in shock and

instantly understood; it wasn't Lysander who had sent her

your decision." Thalassa felt a weight lift

the misunderstanding his grandfather had

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debt and that her obligation ended when he recovered, implying there was

wait

an epiphany, nodding in

had been so cold

weight off her shoulders. Yet, being in close proximity to Lysander after three years apart made the moment all the more

"About you and Rosalind-"

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