Page 135 of Ashen Souls

“In the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, what is the consequence of breaking a condition within a binding agreement?”

“The bond dissolves,” I replied, forcing my voice not to waver. “The terms are voided. But the emotional consequence remains.”

His hands paused on the edge of the lectern.

“And does the myth suggest the condition itself was unjust,” he continued, “or that the failure lay in human impatience?”

Around us, the faint clicking of laptop keyboards slowed.

“In most versions,” I said, “the condition is framed as fair. The tragedy comes from mistrust. Or fear. The inability to endure uncertainty.”

His knuckles were pale against the dark wood of the lectern.

“And if the condition had been manipulative? If the bond itself were constructed to test loyalty rather than protect it?”

My fingers tightened around my pen.

“Then it wouldn’t be love. It would be control.”

Ethan let the words hang there.

“Precisely,” he said.

He turned back to the board, picking up a piece of chalk. The lecture continued.

He moved through the material with clarity and discipline, drawing connections between ancient covenants and modern interpretations of loyalty, discussing how myths often disguise power dynamics beneath the language of devotion. Students scribbled notes. A few whispered observations.

When the hour ended, the sudden scrape of chairs startled me. Students rose in clusters, shouldering backpacks and migrating toward the aisles.

I stayed seated.

Harper stood slowly beside me, gathering her things.

“You are being ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath.

“I know,” I replied.

“Go talk to him.”

“I will.”

I inhaled and rose.

At the front of the room, Ethan was stacking his notes and answering a question from a student. His posture was professional, but the tension along his shoulders had returned now that the lecture was over.

Harper squeezed my arm once and then headed toward the exit, leaving me alone.

I moved forward through the thinning crowd. By the time I reached the front, the last student had stepped away.

Ethan looked up.

“Aveline,” he said softly. “I’m glad to see you.”

Shit. So much for keeping my distance. His tone stripped away whatever speech I had prepared. My palms grew so slick with sweat I had to lock them into tight fists against my thighs just to stop the shaking.

“I’m sorry I missed yesterday,” I managed, hating how breathless I sounded.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ethan replied, though his tone suggested that it did. He held my gaze. “But today I did begin to feel that you were avoiding me.”