The cafe's warm bubble popped the instant Becka's silhouette cut through the doorway. The air shifted—laughter stilled, cups paused midair, and the inaudible murmur of conversation retreated into a brittle quiet. Becka glided in with the practiced confidence of someone used to taking up space; her smile was a blade hidden behind lacquered charm. When she saw Daniel on the floor with Starfania beside him, her eyes narrowed to thin slits as if measuring an offense.
" Danny Poo, " she called, voice dripping faux concern and poison both. She sauntered forward and crossed her arms theatrically. " Why are you lying on the floor with Miss Dragon Lover? Did she make you do it? Because I swear—I'll end her right here."
Heads turned. Becka's word hung heavy, a challenge thrown down like a gauntlet. Heat prickled across Starfania's skin; whatever fragile bubble had cocooned her and Daniel snapped. Daniel pushed himself up, hair mussed, cheeks flushed from laughter and embarrassment. Where some might shrink, he planted his feet and faced Becka with a calm so steady it quieted half the room.
" No, it wasn't her idea," he said evenly, meeting Becka's eyes. " I invited her to hang out."
The implication—that he'd chosen Starfania company over Becka's—landed with the weight of a verdict. For a heartbeat, Becka's bravado faltered, and the crack in her act exposed a rawer feeling beneath: wounded pride, maybe something closer to hope that had not been returned. She stepped forward, voice small but sharp with injury. " Why didn't you invite me, Danny Poo?"
Daniel's face softened instantly; he was neither cruel nor dismissive. He knew how to thread kindness into rejection so it wouldn't shatter.
" Becka," he said, voice gentle, " you know I value what we have. But sometimes you meet someone who brings out a different side of you. I wanted to get to know Starfania—she's someone I don't know well yet."
His words were careful and true, without apology. Becka winced as if struck; her jaw worked.
" I just don't see why you'd pick her over me," she murmured—half accusation, half plea.
" It's not about choosing," Daniel replied, soft but firm. " Getting to know someone new doesn't mean I value you less. You matter to me—that won't change."
The room hummed with tension. Becka stared at him, fury and hurt battling behind her eyes. When she turned that storm back on Starfania, it was with the practiced cruelty of someone who weaponized words.
" And who exactly do you think you are? " She sneered. " Just some starry-eyed dragon fanatic. You're a nobody—hardly the 'Fire Princess' everyone fawns over."
The insult cracked through Starfania like a slap. For a moment, she felt the old burn behind Becka's words—humiliation, the weight of being bothered.
But the memory of it is no longer rooted her; it kindled a fiercer flame. She stepped forward, spine straight, voice cool and measured.
" Oh, of course," she said, sarcasm bright as a blade. " How could I forget? The Great Becka, leader of Scarlet Rage."
The cafe watched the exchange with bated breath.
" I'm the daughter of a general who's kept this kingdom safe. And I'm not afraid to use what's mine." Becka's let the weight of the family ties between them. Becka's lips curled.
" And I am the daughter of Cesar, ruler of VulcanFire," Starfania said, her tone unflinching. " Which means I hold influence, too. Remember that you aren't the only one with connections."
The implied warning in Starfania's voice was not empty bluster—it was steel wrapped in velvet. Around them, conversation resumed, but it was a little more hushed now; the cafe had shifted into a room where reputations were being measured and lines were being drawn. Daniel stepped to Starfania's side without theatrics, a solid presence.
" That's enough," he said quietly, protective warmth threading his words. " We'll be leaving."
He offered Starfania his hand; it was both an escape and a shield. Becka's nostrils flared. She opened her mouth, perhaps to hurl one last barb, but the look Daniel gave—patient, quietly resolute—made her hesitate.
The tiniest doubt flickered across her face, and with a huff she swept from the cafe, followed by her circle of cronies who whispered behind her like leaves in a storm. As the door swung closed, the room exhaled. Starfania's heart still hammered against her ribs; the adrenaline left her slightly dizzy. Daniel released her hand and offered a small, apologetic smile.
" Sorry about that," he murmured, more embarrassed than angry. " They can be…theatrical."
Starfania laughed, brittle but genuine. " Tell me about it."
She rubbed the spot on her shoulder where Becka's words had landed.
" Thank you," she added softly, turning toward Daniel. " For stepping up."
Daniel shrugged as if it were nothing at all. " I don't like to see anyone talk to you like that."
His eyes were steady and warm, and for a flicker of a moment, something unguarded passed between them—gratitude, something tender, and an easing of the tight coil that had been in her chest all morning.