Morning sunlight spilled through the arched windows of Dravenhart Manor, soft and golden — the kind of light that should've felt warm, if not for the lingering chill in the air.
Zelene walked down the stone corridor, her voice the only thing filling the silence.
"…and it's been four days," she said, gesturing animatedly. "Four. And he hasn't so much as looked me in the eye. I mean, really — I nearly got murdered, and the great Duke of Dravenhart decides to play ghost."
Her companion, predictably, didn't answer.
Ray walked a half step behind her, hands clasped behind his back, his expression the same unreadable calm as always.
Zelene sighed. "You know, most men would at least ask if I'm sleeping well after an assassination attempt. Maybe send flowers. Or, I don't know — make eye contact?"
Nothing. Not even a blink.
She shot him a sidelong glance. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
That earned her the faintest flicker of an eyebrow.
Zelene huffed, her heels clicking against the marble floor. "Fine. Don't answer. Just know that I'm aware you're silently judging me."
Still nothing.
It should've annoyed her. It usually did. But lately, she'd found a strange comfort in Ray's quiet presence. He didn't push, didn't prod, didn't demand anything from her. Just… existed beside her, steady as stone.
Maybe that's why she liked walking with him — because he reminded her that silence didn't always have to mean indifference.
Her thoughts drifted.
Four days. Four days since Kael had looked through her as though she were smoke. Since he'd started scheduling meetings at hours when she was conveniently absent. Since his door — always open before — had been closed.
He was avoiding her. Thoroughly, deliberately, expertly.
And she was losing her mind over it.
Zelene Evandelle wasn't the type to chase after anyone. She'd been raised in halls where attention was currency and affection was a game. She knew how to command a room, not be ignored in one.
So why did his silence feel like rejection?
She stopped by one of the tall windows, staring out at the courtyard below. The autumn wind stirred the banners, the silver sigil of Dravenhart rippling like a warning.
"I don't even know why I care," she muttered. "He's brooding, he's impossible, he never listens—"
Her voice faltered.
But he made her feel.
Not the way she performed feelings for other people — the graceful, measured version she'd mastered to survive noble society. With Kael, she didn't have to be careful. Her sharp tongue, her impulsive words — he never flinched. He met her chaos with calm.
And that terrified her.
She'd spent her life building armor from wit and indifference. But somehow, Kael Dravenhart saw past all of it, and worse — made her forget she even had it.
Zelene shook herself. "Saints above, I'm turning sentimental. I blame you," she said, pointing at Ray.
He gave a faint shrug, as if to say I didn't do anything.
"Exactly. You didn't." She sighed. "Which means I have to."
By the time she reached the study, her pulse had quickened — part nerves, part defiance. She didn't bother knocking.
The heavy oak door creaked open, revealing Kael standing by the window, half-dressed in his black shirt, sleeves rolled up, the morning light outlining the hard lines of his shoulders. Papers lay scattered on the table, the scent of ink and iron filling the air.
He looked… exhausted.
Not in the usual, stoic way — but truly worn down. Shadows rimmed his eyes, the stubble along his jaw rougher than usual. There was a looseness to his posture that unsettled her more than his anger ever had.
"Busy avoiding me again, I see," she said lightly, closing the door behind her.
Kael didn't turn. "You should rest, Lady Evandelle."
"Don't 'Lady Evandelle' me." She crossed her arms. "I'm not one of your soldiers."
Silence.
Her chest tightened. "You've been acting like I don't exist since the attack. Is this— what? Some noble version of damage control?"
Finally, he looked at her.
It wasn't coldness that hit her — it was the tiredness. A kind she didn't know how to respond to. His gaze held something raw, something that looked a lot like fear, though Kael Dravenhart would sooner die than admit it.
"You shouldn't have been a target," he said quietly.
Zelene blinked. "Oh, so now we're talking about it?"
He exhaled, steady but controlled. "You're in danger because of me. Because my enemies believe you are something you're not."
She frowned. "And what do they believe I am?"
Kael's eyes met hers — sharp, burning, unflinching.
"My weakness."
The words hit her harder than she expected. For a heartbeat, she couldn't think, couldn't breathe.
And then — in true Zelene fashion — she forced a smirk. "That's ridiculous. You don't even like me half the time."
His lips twitched, not quite a smile, but something close. "That's what makes it believable."
The air between them thickened — a mix of tension and something unspoken.
Zelene wanted to say something, anything, but the weight in his eyes stopped her. There were shadows there — secrets, sleeplessness, grief — things she didn't understand yet.
So instead, she stepped closer.
Not close enough to touch. Just close enough that he had to feel her presence.
"Then let them believe it," she whispered. "But you don't get to run from me. Not like this."
For a second, she thought he'd reach for her. His hand twitched — then stilled.
"Zelene…"
The sound of her name, low and raw in his voice, nearly undid her.
She smiled faintly, masking the tremor in her chest. "You can keep your walls, Kael Dravenhart. Just don't expect me to stop climbing them."
And with that, she turned and left, heart pounding, leaving him standing there — haunted and silent in the morning light.