The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows over the small, cozy space. I must've dozed off, because when I blinked, the blanket was pulled tighter around me and the room had settled into silence.
Grandmama's cottage felt older than the forest itself, with every wooden beam whispering stories of storms and seasons past. I didn't want to wake up yet. But the quiet let my mind wander, and it wandered straight back to the woods. Guards—so close I could almost hear their breathing.
Alessio sat beside me on the padded bench, arms loosely crossed, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the flickering firelight. Grandmama, after grumbling about "bringing trouble to her doorstep," was now in the corner, grinding herbs with the force of someone imagining the guards' skulls instead of dried leaves.
I was still catching my breath when Alessio spoke up. "We can't go to Mellerfen yet. The patrols are thicker than I expected. Marius must've caught wind of something—or he's just tightening security. I think we should take Grandmama's offer to stay here for a while, after all."
He hadn't slept. Just before first light, he'd slipped out alone to scout the woods, checking for patrol patterns and any clear route east.
Grandmama snorted. "That snake has ears in every corner of the empire. He's been creeping through the cracks since his father's death."
Something about the way she said it made my skin prickle. "His father's death?" I asked.
Alessio nodded. "Duke Wittelsbach the First. Died a few years back—we suspected poison, but nothing was ever proven. Marius took over immediately, consolidating power faster than anyone could react. His father was well-respected. Marius... less so."
"Less so?" I repeated, incredulous. "He's practically running the place with an iron fist."
Alessio gave a grim nod. "That's the problem. The imperial family didn't foresee how ruthless he'd be. He's gained the loyalty of a handful of nobles—mainly through blackmail and fear. But his influence has grown too fast. My father, the Emperor, doesn't trust him, but removing a duke without clear cause could spark civil unrest."
"So your father's just... waiting for Marius to mess up?"
"In a way. We've been gathering evidence against him, but Marius is careful. He eliminates witnesses before they can speak. That's why you're important, Sonia."
"Me?" I blinked. "I'm important? I'm just trying not to die."
Alessio's gaze softened. "You're more than that. You're a key witness, maybe the only one who can shed light on what he's done."
My brow furrowed as I hesitated. "But I don't remember everything. Some things are just… missing."
He nodded. "I figured. But whatever's buried in there could fill in the gaps. If anything comes back, it might be just what we need to bring him down."
Grandmama chimed in, her voice sharp. "That's if you survive long enough—he isn't the type to leave loose ends."
A shiver crawled down my spine. "I just wanted to not be chained to a bed. Now you're telling me I'm part of a plot to take down a psychopathic duke?"
Alessio met my eyes, his violet gaze steady. "Yes. But you're not alone in this. I'll protect you."
I stayed silent, staring at him.
Grandmama scoffed. "She needs training. Survival demands a blade in her hand and steel in her heart."
"Training?" I squeaked.
Grandmama gave me a withering look. "I told you I'd teach you. What good are you if you can't run or defend yourself? You'll get both of you killed."
Alessio nodded slowly. "She's right. You need to know how to defend yourself."
"But I'm not exactly built for combat!" I protested.
Grandmama muttered something about 'pampered lilies' and set down her mortar. "Tomorrow morning, we begin. You've got a lot to learn. I'll start you with the basics. So take today to rest—eat something, get some sleep. You'll need your strength."
I glanced at Alessio, but he didn't look the least bit sorry. "It's for your own safety."
I huffed. "Fine. But if I accidentally stab myself, I'm blaming both of you."
Grandmama just grunted, clearly unimpressed by my bravado.
* * *
That night, sleep came in fragments, punctuated by nightmares where Marius found me, his smile sharper than a blade. In the dim light of dawn, I climbed down from the attic and found Alessio sitting by the hearth.
"When did you wake up?" I murmured.
He didn't look over. "A little while ago."
I sat beside him, letting the warmth of the fire chase off the last chill of sleep.
"You said the imperial family is basically waiting for proof of Marius's crimes. Why hasn't anyone tried harder to expose him?"
Alessio exhaled slowly. "It's complicated. Marius's influence runs deep. Even among the imperial nobility, some have benefited from his rise—or fear what he'd do if they opposed him. My father can't move against him without undeniable proof. The last thing we need is a power struggle between the dukedom and the throne."
"Sounds like your family's in a tight spot."
He gave me a sideways glance, something wistful in his expression. "It's not just politics. My father... he's cautious. After my mother died, he became more guarded—especially about me. He knows what's at stake. If Marius gets wind of my identity, it could put the entire succession at risk."
My breath caught. "So that's why you're in hiding."
He nodded. "Until the Descent ceremony, my identity remains a secret. Marius would use me as leverage—or worse—if he knew who I was."
I bit my lip. "And you're risking it all just to help me?"
Alessio's gaze softened. "You matter to the case, yes. But I couldn't leave you there—not with him. You deserve a chance to choose your own path."
For a moment, his words hung between us, heavy and quiet. I wasn't used to people saving me without ulterior motives.
Before I could respond, Grandmama stalked into the room, carrying a bundle. "Enough moon-eyed staring. Eat. Then we train."
Later, outside the cottage, Grandmama shoved a small dagger into my hand. It was heavier than I expected, the blade wickedly sharp.
"Throwing isn't just about strength," she barked. "It's about precision. Control your breathing. Keep your wrist loose. Aim for the center."
I eyed the crude wooden target she'd set up—a tree stump with a ragged cloth tied to it. "I've never thrown anything sharper than a sewing needle."
She raised a brow. "Think of it as stitching. Just... violently."
I couldn't help it—I laughed. Grandmama gave me a rare smirk.
After a few failed attempts, Alessio stepped closer. "Here," he said, positioning himself behind me. His hands covered mine, guiding the motion. Heat flared at my cheeks.
"Loosen your grip," he murmured, his breath tickling my ear. "Like this."
I tried to focus on his instructions instead of how close he was. We threw the dagger together, and it hit the target—barely.
"See?" he said, stepping back. "You're getting it."
My pulse fluttered, though I couldn't tell if it was from the knife throwing or Alessio standing so close.
Grandmama cleared her throat loudly.
I pulled away, coughing. "Right. More practice."
We trained until the sun dipped low, and though I was sore and exhausted, I felt something I hadn't in a long time: hopeful.
As night fell, Alessio and I sat near the fire, Grandmama already asleep in her chair. I glanced at him, curious. "Do you ever regret helping me?"
He looked at me, a hint of a smile on his lips. "No. Not once."
Something in my chest eased, like the tension had finally loosened its grip.