Losa awoke from the darkness and instinctively touched his neck—a cold blade had brushed against his throat, a sensation that one could only understand if experienced.
"Had a nightmare?"
Prajna's cool voice gradually calmed the fiery emotions Losa had carried from the battlefield.
Seeing Prajna, Losa always felt reassured, as if nothing could faze her, no matter how serious things got.
Is this the sense of security brought by the Heavy Iron Guard?
"Kind of."
Losa wiped the sweat from his forehead and rose, saying, "I'm going to wash my face, no need to follow me, I'll be back soon."
Prajna paused mid-motion as she was about to get up, thought for a moment, then nodded, "Alright, considering your current proficiency in Blood Magic, you likely won't encounter issues like last time."
She lay back down on the bed, pulling the covers up to her chest.
The deep night at Constant Manor was utterly silent.
