The rain didn't stop.
By the time Noah and the servants reached the estate, they were soaked to the bone. But all eyes were on the woman they carried—wrapped in blankets, barely breathing, blood trailing down her side.
Noah had insisted.
"We're not leaving her out there," he had said. "I don't care who she is. No one deserves to die alone."
They laid her in one of the guest rooms near the back of the manor. Yuni moved with quiet efficiency—heating water, sterilizing cloth, stitching wounds with hands steadier than any battlefield nurse.
Noah stood nearby, his jaw tight. Watching. Waiting. Thinking.
Her mask had cracked during the trip. They'd removed what was left of it—revealing a pale, angular face beneath matted hair. She couldn't have been more than a few years older than him. But her expression, even in unconsciousness, was cold.
Sharp.
Like a blade waiting to be drawn.
Yuni paused beside the bed. "The bleeding's slowed," she said softly.
"Will she live?" Noah asked.
Yuni didn't answer right away. "She shouldn't. Not with wounds like that. But… something's keeping her here."
Noah stepped closer, eyes fixed on the woman's face.
"She looked like she wanted to die out there," he whispered. "But something pulled her this way."
He didn't realize how true those words were.
Hours passed. The servants whispered in the hall.
Some were afraid. Some curious. One even suggested turning her over to the local guards.
But Noah refused.
"Until I know who she is," he said, "she stays."
Thorne had taught him to look past fear. To judge people by action—not name.
He didn't know the irony.
Because the name he didn't know… was feared across the kingdom.
That night, as the storm finally faded, Noah returned to the room.
The woman was still asleep. Her skin pale against the pillow, brow damp with sweat.
He pulled up a chair and sat.
"You've got good instincts," he murmured, "collapsing near a house full of soft-hearted idiots."
He leaned back, arms crossed.
"I'm not special, you know. They all think I am, but I'm not. No magic. No power. Just a name I didn't ask for."
She didn't respond.
"Still," he added, voice softer now, "if you were running from something… I get it."
Outside, the moon finally broke through the clouds.
And in the stillness, her eyes fluttered open.
Just a crack.
Barely enough to see.
But enough to watch the boy who had saved her.
The boy who had no idea that the most dangerous woman in the kingdom was now under his roof.