Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting the chamber in muted gold. The room was quiet, filled only with the faint rustle of fabric as Anneliese shifted in her bed, wincing slightly as she flexed her injured foot. The ache lingered—a persistent reminder of what had happened in her father's study.
Vincenzo remained in the chamber, now sitting on a chair near the unlit fireplace. His presence was a silent reassurance against the tension that still clung to her. Even with the castle walls protected by enchanted barriers, he would not risk leaving her alone after what he had seen. The thought of her being pulled away from him—somewhere he could not reach—made his fingers curl into a tight fist.
He leaned back slightly in the chair, eyes never leaving her. After a moment, his voice broke the quiet. "Will you be able to walk to the dining hall, or… should I carry you?"
