The carriage wheels had stopped some time ago, but Kael remained motionless. His bruised and feverish body lay on a bed far too soft for a street urchin. An unfamiliar scent hung in the air-the smell of clean linen, polished wood, and a delicate perfume. The darkness beneath his eyelids was more comforting than the harsh light of the alleyways, and he didn't dare open them, fearing all this might be just a dream. A sweet dream. Too sweet.
He no longer knew how long he had been unconscious. Shards of memory flickered in his mind: firm but gentle hands, a female voice giving clear orders, a warmth pressed against his filthy skin. It hadn't been fists. It hadn't been blood. It had been... something else. A different world. Incomprehensible.
Kael finally cracked open his eyes. The ceiling above him was a pure white, adorned with golden moldings forming elegant arabesques. The bed he lay on was enormous, covered in clean sheets and a mattress so thick he felt like he was floating. Everything was too quiet, too clean, too... unreal. He jolted upright, his breath short, panic rising.
But the pain pinned him down immediately. His ribs screamed in protest. His back burned. He bit his lip to keep from crying out. It wasn't a dream. He really was here. In a place he never believed he'd see, let alone sleep in. And worse: he was clean. His arms, his legs-even his hair. Water had scrubbed away the grime of the streets. Someone had bathed him. The thought made him flush with shame. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to someone like him.
A soft voice spoke from behind the door: "May I come in?" He hesitated. His throat was dry. "Yes..." he replied, his voice weak, barely audible. The door opened gently. A maid entered, carrying a tray filled with steaming food. Her movements were precise, without coldness. She placed the meal on the small table beside the bed and bowed slightly.
"My lady sent this for you," she said. "She says you must eat your fill." Then, without another word, she withdrew, closing the door behind her with a respectful quietness. Kael sat frozen for a moment, unable to take his eyes off the tray. Fresh bread, juicy meat, colorful vegetables, even a slice of pie. His stomach growled violently.
He reached out slowly, as if afraid a trap might spring. Then he picked up a piece of bread. Brought it to his lips, bit into it. An explosion of flavor. Real bread. He had never tasted anything like it. Not moldy crusts stolen from stalls. This was real, warm, soft. His fingers trembled. He devoured it all, piece after piece, until only crumbs remained.
When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand out of habit. He looked around the room again, still incredulous. Everything was too quiet, too beautiful. Thick curtains covered a large window. A soft rug blanketed the floor. Even the chair in the corner looked more comfortable than anything he had ever known.
Suddenly, the door opened again. This time, it wasn't a servant. It was her. The girl. Naelys. She entered the room without hesitation, her footsteps muffled by the carpet. She looked him straight in the eye, with that same blend of assurance and gentleness. He wanted to hide under the blankets, but it was too late. He had been seen.
She sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectful distance. "Are you feeling better?" she asked. He nodded without answering. He didn't know what to say. This girl had saved his life. He still didn't understand why.
"You have to meet my parents," she said simply. The words fell like a blade. Kael's blood turned to ice. His eyes widened. He tried to speak, but no sound came. His heart pounded faster, his breath quickened. He had heard so many stories about noble families, about their cruelty toward street rats, their contempt. He thought of the pain, the shame, the punishment they might inflict.
"No..." he whispered, panic rising in his throat. He shook his head, backed away into the bed. "I don't want to... I don't want to go..."
Naelys extended a hand, gently. She didn't touch him, just left her palm open, visible. "Calm down," she said softly. "I know you're afraid. I understand. But my parents aren't like the others. They want to meet you. This isn't a trap, or a punishment." She paused. "You did nothing wrong."
Kael didn't know what to say. His hands were still trembling. He wanted to believe her, but everything in him screamed danger. Yet, in Naelys' eyes, there was a sincerity he had never seen before. A light that wasn't pity or obligation. It was... something else.
"Eat more if you want. Rest a bit. When you're ready, I'll come get you," she said as she stood. She took a step toward the door, then turned around. "You're not alone anymore, Kael. Not here." And she left, closing the door gently behind her.
He remained seated, his eyes fixed on the closed door. Silence returned, but it wasn't the same. In that silence, a question lingered, suspended in the air: what if she was telling the truth?