The door opened, and a guard stepped in, followed closely by the court physician and a healer.
Eyan's voice was sharp but controlled. "Go and treat her."
The healer stepped forward, but before he could close the distance, a low, dangerous growl filled the air.
From the shadows, Talon, Fen, and Mara bared their fangs, eyes glinting like molten gold in the dim light.
"Don't attack," Eyan ordered firmly, his gaze cutting to his wolves. "He's not here to hurt her."
The healer swallowed, hesitating before taking another step.
But Eva recoiled, dragging herself toward the far corner, her entire frame trembling like a frightened bird.
Eyan immediately raised his hand. "Wait—stop. She's afraid. Don't get closer."
"But Your Majesty," the healer replied, his tone respectful yet urgent, "I need to approach in order to heal her."
"Can't you do it from here?" Eyan asked, his tone almost pleading.
"From this distance, I can only stop the bleeding," the healer explained, glancing at Eva's injuries. "I can't fully heal her wounds."
Eyan's jaw tightened. "Then just stop the bleeding."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The healer murmured an incantation, his hands glowing faintly as a soft warmth drifted across the room. A pale light wrapped around Eva's injured form, and slowly, the bleeding ceased. but the bruises and torn skin remained.
Eyan's gaze never left her—watching the way she flinched even from that gentle magic.
"Now…" Eyan's voice dropped to a low command, "everyone, get out."
The room emptied.
Silence settled. Eyan stood there, his chest heavy, his thoughts a storm. What should I do?
His fists tightened at his sides. Eva… please… just let me hold you. Just once.
---
From outside the chamber came Hans's voice. "Your Majesty."
Eyan glanced back at Eva—still curled in the corner—then spoke, his tone quiet but firm. "Hans, stay there. I'm coming."
He turned to his wolves. Talon, Fen, and Mara sat tense, their ears flicking toward Eva. "The three of you… stay with her," he ordered. Their golden eyes followed him as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.
Hans straightened when Eyan emerged. "Your Majesty… is Her Highness all right?"
"No." The word came out sharper than intended. Eyan exhaled, rubbing a hand across his face. "She's not fine at all."
She's not even letting me touch her. She flinches… every time I try."
His voice lowered, heavy with frustration. "Hans… I don't know what to do."
Hans hesitated, then spoke with the careful tone of a man choosing his words. "In times like this, she will only allow near her the one she trusts most."
"The one she trusts most…" Eyan repeated slowly, as if testing the thought aloud. His gaze unfocused for a moment, searching memory.
Then his jaw tightened. "It's Kyel. She trusts the most."
Hans's brow furrowed, but before he could respond, Eyan's fingers flicked subtly in the air. A shimmer of magic wrapped around him, bending light and shadow until the familiar face of Kyel stared back where Eyan had stood.
Hans took an instinctive step back. "Your Majesty… If you go to her like this… how will you explain Kyel's presence in the palace?"
"I'll deal with that later," Eyan said, voice carrying an unshakable resolve. "Nothing matters to me more than her."
Without another word, he turned and strode back toward the door, the weight of his choice pressing heavy—but the thought of Eva's fear pressing heavier still.
---
Eva remained where she was, knees drawn close, her gaze fixed on the window as though the gray sky beyond might swallow her whole. Her eyes were vacant—lifeless—until a voice, low and familiar, broke through the fog.
"Princess…"
Her head turned sharply. At the door stood Kyel.
The moment their eyes met, her vision blurred with tears.
He stepped toward her, slow and deliberate, as though afraid she might vanish if he moved too quickly. "Eva…"
She flinched, turning her face away. "Kyel… don't look at me. Please." Her hands pulled at the edges of her torn dress, trying to hide herself.
"Eva…" His voice was heavy with something between grief and desperation.
Before she could retreat further, he knelt and gathered her into his arms. She stiffened at first, then trembled against him.
"Don't hide from me," he whispered against her hair. "I know everything… you don't have to worry about anything anymore."
His arms tightened, as if he could shield her from every shadow in the world. "I'm here, so don't be afraid."
Her breath hitched before it broke into an unrestrained, ugly sob. "Kyel…"
"I'm sorry," she choked out between tears. "I'm sorry…"
His brows furrowed. "Why are you apologizing?"
"For everything…" Her voice cracked like fragile glass. "For not telling you, for letting you see me like this… and for not being pure."
Her eyes glistened with shame. "I wanted to be someone beautiful in your eyes."
"You were always beautiful in my eyes," he said firmly, his gaze steady on hers. "I don't care about anything else."
Her lips trembled.
"You couldn't tell me because you couldn't trust me enough," he continued quietly. "And that's my fault, not yours. So please, Eva… don't apologize for anything."
"I tried to fight," she whispered, her voice splintering. "I tried… but I couldn't."
"I know," Kyel said, his hand pressing gently against the back of her head. "You did everything you could… and I'm proud of you."
A shudder went through her. "He said… if I fought back, he would tell you everything. I didn't want you to hate me."
Her eyes searched his desperately. "Please… don't hate me."
His answer was immediate, unwavering. "I don't hate you. How could I hate you?"
Her breath caught as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a tear. "I love you, Eva. I love you more than you can imagine. So don't think about anything else right now."
His gaze dropped briefly to her split lip. His fingertips brushed the injury with aching gentleness. "You need to be treated first. You will let them treat you… right?"
She nodded faintly.
Without another word, he slid one arm beneath her knees, the other cradling her back, and lifted her easily. She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him.
Kyel stepped out into the corridor, where Hans stood waiting. "mr. call for the healer."
"I'll bring him right away."