Chapter 59: Summer games
Even Freya looked up, her quiet demeanor cracking for a fraction of a second. "You’re not coming?"
Isabella, standing quietly beside Aaron, blinked in confusion. She turned her head slightly toward the sound of their voices.
"Coming where? What’s going on?"
Finn threw his hands in the air. "It’s the Countryside Summer Games! He goes every single year!"
Aaron gave Finn a warning look, but Isabella turned to Aaron, curiosity overcoming her tiredness. "Summer games?"
"It’s just a local tradition," Aaron explained, keeping his tone calm. "The families in this part of the district host a sports day every few months. The younger ones compete in random events... archery, tennis, track, target shooting. The money raised goes to local charities."
"It’s not ’just’ a tradition, it’s a massive event!" Finn corrected loudly. "Everyone comes out! There’s food, music, games, and I’m entering the target shooting and the dash today!"
"Freya does tennis and archery," Aaron added, casting a brief glance at Freya. "I usually just stand around and watch."
"And you have to come!" Finn pleaded, taking a step toward his Aaron . "You always come! Why are you backing out now?"
Aaron didn’t answer right away. His gaze flicked to Isabella. She looked exhausted, like a gentle breeze could knock her down.
The last thing he wanted was to drag her into a loud, crowded public event full of rich families when she was clearly hurting inside.
"I have work to catch up on," Aaron lied smoothly. "You two can go with Pyotr."
"That’s stupid," Freya muttered, her voice cold and quiet from the side. "You never skip it."
Isabella listened to the back-and-forth, feeling the tension in the room.
She knew Aaron was lying. He didn’t have work; he was staying back because of her. He didn’t want to leave her alone in the house while she was in this state, but she also didn’t want to be the reason the kids missed out on having Aaron there.
"Aaron," Isabella said softly, turning toward him. "You should go."
"I’m fine staying here," Aaron replied instantly.
"You don’t have to stay on my account," she insisted, offering a faint, gentle smile. "The kids want you there. It sounds like fun."
"Exactly!" Finn chimed in, pointing at Isabella. "See? She gets it!"
"Nobody asked you, Finn," Aaron warned, though there was no real bite to his voice. He looked back down at Isabella, watching her expression closely. "I’m not leaving you here by yourself."
"Then..." Isabella paused, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "Why don’t I come with you?"
Finn’s eyes went wide. "YES! See? Problem solved! Everyone is going!"
Aaron looked at Isabella, surprised. "Are you sure? It’s going to be loud. There will be a lot of people."
"I’d like to get out of the house for a bit," she said quietly. "Fresh air might do me some good."
Aaron studied her face for a long moment, making sure she wasn’t just saying it to please him.
When he saw the genuine sincerity in her eyes, his shoulders relaxed slightly. "Alright. But the moment you get tired, we leave."
"Deal," she agreed softly.
Finn clapped his hands together with a loud ’smack’. "Awesome! I’m gonna go grab my second set of running shoes!" He spun around and rushed up the stairs like a hurricane.
Isabella chuckled faintly at the sheer volume of his energy. But as the sound of Finn’s footsteps faded, Freya stepped forward. She looked at Isabella, her eyes cold and distant.
"You realize it’s an outdoor event, right?" Freya said, her voice dropping into a harsh, sarcastic bite. "There are dirt paths, grass, and crowds. You’re just going to bump into people and get in the way."
The hallway went dead silent.
Isabella’s smile faltered, her hands tightening slightly around her bag.
Aaron’s eyes snapped to Freya, his expression darkening instantly. "Freya. That’s enough."
Freya didn’t flinch under her Aaron’s stare, but she let out a sharp sigh, shifting her racket to her other hand. "Whatever. I’ll be in the car."
She turned on her heel and walked out the front door without another word, letting it slam shut behind her.
Isabella let out a soft breath, lowering her head. "It’s fine, Aaron. She’s just..."
"She’s being rude," Aaron cut in softly, his hand finding the small of her back to give her a reassuring touch. "Don’t mind her. I’ll go get your coat."
The event grounds were sprawling and bright, set across a massive green park bordered by rolling hills and oak trees.
Banners of dark blue and gold hung from white wooden posts, and the air was filled with the rich smells of grilled food, sweet pastries, and cut grass.
Music drifted from speakers set up near the central pavilion, mixed with the loud chatter of wealthy families, the laughter of children running across the lawns, and the sharp clack of wooden rackets from the nearby tennis courts.
Aaron guided Isabella slowly through the crowd. His arm was tucked securely through hers, his large hand resting over her fingers so she could feel every step he took.
Behind them, Pyotr walked at a comfortable distance, his eyes scanning the crowd with his usual watchful calm, while two security guards stayed near the perimeter.
"What does it look like?" Isabella asked softly, tilting her head up as they walked.
"Food stalls to our left," Aaron described, adjusting his pace to match her smaller steps. "They’re roasting meat over open coals. To the right, there’s a big duck pond with a bunch of kids throwing bread."
"Is it pretty?"
"It’s bright," Aaron replied. "Lots of green. Too many people in pastel shirts."
Isabella let out a genuine laugh, the sound bright and clear against the background noise.
Aaron stopped for a fraction of a second, his eyes softening as he looked down at her. It was the first real laugh he had heard from her all day.
"Hey! Look at this!" Finn came jogging over, holding a bright red paper pennant. "They gave these out at the entrance! Isabella, it’s red!"
"Finn," Aaron said, exasperated. "She can’t see the color."
"Oh," Finn paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "Right. Well... it feels soft! Here, feel it!" He jammed the paper pennant into her hand.
Isabella giggled, taking the paper and running her thumb over the smooth edge. "Thank you, Finn. It feels very official."
"Told you!" Finn grinned, turning back toward the fields. "The target shooting is starting soon. You guys better get good seats!"
Before they could walk toward the spectator bleachers, Freya approached from the competitor tent. She had her tennis racket prepped, her white visor pulled down low over her eyes. She looked straight at Finn, ignoring Aaron and Isabella entirely.
"Finn," Freya said, her voice tight. "You said you’d help me warm up my serve before my match."
Finn blinked, looking between Freya and Isabella. "Oh. Right. I forgot. Can we do it in like ten minutes? I was just showing Isabella around—"
"Forget it," Freya snapped, her face hardening. She cast a sharp, bitter look at Isabella. "You already made your choice."
Isabella felt the chill in Freya’s tone and quickly spoke up. "Finn, please go with her. I don’t need to be shown around, I’m just sitting with Aaron. Go help your sister."
Freya turned her cold glare onto Isabella. "I don’t need you telling him what to do."
The air between them went stiff.
"Freya," Aaron’s voice dropped, dangerous and quiet. "Watch your mouth."
Freya’s chin trembled slightly, but she squeezed her hands into fists, refusing to look at her Aaron . Without another word, she spun on her heel and marched off toward the warm-up courts alone.
Finn looked down at his shoes, feeling the awkward weight in the air. "I... I should probably go make sure she doesn’t break her racket," he muttered, turning to follow her.
Isabella sighed quietly as they walked away. "She really hates me, doesn’t she?"
"She’s a stubborn kid who doesn’t like change," Aaron said gently, leading her toward a set of shaded wooden seats near the central field. "It has nothing to do with you."
He helped her sit down on the bench, making sure she was comfortable before taking a seat right beside her. Pyotr stepped up behind them, leaning against a wooden post with his arms crossed.
"First up is the junior tennis division," Pyotr announced, looking over his paper schedule. "Little Freya is on court two."
The match started a few minutes later. From her seat, Isabella could hear the sharp ’thwack’ of the ball hitting the strings, followed by the soft pitter-patter of sneakers squeaking against the hard court.
"How is she doing?" Isabella asked, leaning slightly toward Aaron.
Aaron watched Freya from across the lawn. Freya was usually swift and composed on the court, but today, her swings were wild.
She kept turning her head toward the bleachers, her eyes darting over to where Aaron sat right next to Isabella, his arm resting along the back of her seat, making sure she didn’t get bumped by passing spectators.