[Ovelia's POV]
I had been following Ace since we left the hairpin stall, but the crowd had pressed between us earlier—a river of festival-goers surging in both directions. I'd lost sight of him but luckily caught a glimpse of the familiar line of his shoulders and hurried to close the distance again. Now I kept following him, but the comfortable silence from before had curdled into something heavy. Wrong.
He hadn't said a word since we left the hairpin stall. He just kept walking a half-step ahead of me, his gaze fixed forward, never glancing back to check on me. The distance between us, though small, felt like a growing chasm.
My fingers rose to touch the red rose hairpin he had bought for me, its cool metal a small comfort against the sudden, irrational flutter of anxiety in my chest. I took a deep, steadying breath.
"Ace?" My voice came out small against the festival's noise. "Should we try to find the others now?"
