Before Draen could fully take Lewis by force, the violent pain brought on by the manifestation finally claimed him. Even as Lewis fought with every ounce of strength left in his trembling body, his resistance gradually weakened along with his breath that's turning ragged until his eyes rolled back and he collapsed into unconsciousness.
And Draen caught him before he could hit the floor.
Without hesitation, the Duke lifted Lewis into his arms and carried him out of the rundown house himself with grip firm yet controlled.
By the time they stepped out, a crowd of commoners had gathered, drawn by the earlier commotion and the suffocating pressure that lingered in the air. Whispers spread like wildfire with fear and curiosity intertwining as more people dared to inch closer.
But none crossed the line.
The moment the Draconum moved, order was restored.
Clad in dark armor etched with scale-like engravings, the knights formed a living barrier around their lord and their presence alone was enough to silence the crowd with every step measured, every gaze cold and unwavering.
No blades were drawn yet the threat was unmistakable.
Draconum, where in the old imperial tongue meant Those of the Dragon.
They were not merely knights sworn by blood and title.
Through ancient vows and trials long forgotten by the empire, each member was believed to carry a fragment of dragon will within them, a sliver of that primal authority that bent others to submission without the need for force.
Under their watchful eyes, the commoners retreated while lowering their gazes as Draen placed Lewis carefully inside the carriage. The door closed with a heavy thud, sealing both the unconscious man and his fate within.
And with the Draconum standing guard, the carriage departed without a single soul daring to follow.
Time passed quietly and Lewis remained fast asleep in the master's bedroom.
Unaware of where he was or how much the world around him had changed, his body lay sunk into a bed far too large and far too soft for someone who had grown up with nothing that even owning such a bed would have been impossible for him, no matter how hard he worked for the rest of his life.
The room surrounding him was nothing short of luxurious.
Fine furniture crafted from polished wood stood neatly in place, untouched and immaculate. Heavy curtains draped the tall windows, muting the light and keeping the space calm and dim.
There were also some decorative flowers that's arranged with care while a carefully chosen painting adorned the wall, adding quiet elegance to the room.
Even the air had been prepared for him where a faint, soothing fragrance lingered throughout the space, selected specifically to encourage deep, peaceful rest.
It wrapped around Lewis like an unseen blanket while keeping him unaware, undisturbed and still asleep within a world that did not belong to him.
And so, time continued to pass with Lewis none the wiser, resting in a place far too refined for someone who had once owned nothing at all.
Seated beside the bed was Draen with one hand gently caressing Lewis's face as he watched him sleep in rare, undisturbed peace.
"So," Draen said quietly with voice steady and devoid of hesitation, "how is his condition? Tell me everything."
The physician standing before him stiffened with a faint tremor running through his posture under the Duke's presence.
He then swallowed before answering.
"Your Grace, if I may be completely honest… his body is in poor condition. He is severely dehydrated and malnourished. That alone made him incapable of enduring the pain of the manifestation, even in its early stages. Though the manifestation has only just begun, his weakened constitution meant that the pain was more than enough to cause him to lose consciousness."
The physician lowered his head and bowed. As he did, Draen's gaze, still lingering on Lewis, caught sight of the bandage wrapped around his head.
His thumb paused briefly against Lewis's cheek.
"…That reminds me," Draen said calmly. "What of his head injury?"
"Yes, Your Grace. It appears he was struck hard enough to lose consciousness and was left untreated afterward. The wound bled heavily, which contributed to his extreme weakness and pallor when you first brought him here. However, there is no need for concern. I have already administered medicine to stabilize him."
The physician straightened slightly as he continued, "Once he wakes and has eaten, Your Grace must ensure that he takes the medicine regularly. It is somewhat bitter, so I have prepared a sweet candy to accompany it."
"Mm," Draen murmured. "Very well. Good work, as always."
His thumb resumed its gentle motion, brushing softly over Lewis's cheek as though the sleeping man could feel it.
The physician bowed once more. "Thank you, Your Grace. I shall take my leave."
With that, he quietly withdrew while leaving Draen alone by the bedside, still watching over Lewis in silence.
Looking at his bride now, Draen was overcome by a turbulent mix of emotions, ones he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge.
There was happiness, deep and undeniable, because he had finally found the one bound to him for life. But that happiness was laced with anger, sharp and unyielding, for Lewis had disappeared from his estate before even a week had passed since his arrival at his residence.
And beneath it all lay pain, heavy and suffocating which was born from the pitiful state Lewis had been reduced to.
The reports delivered by the Draconum, the very knights tasked with uncovering Lewis's whereabouts, had laid everything bare.
Draen now knew of Lewis's miserable childhood, of years spent enduring hardship and neglect.
Worse still, the investigation revealed that his uncle had not only taken advantage of him but had also looked upon Lewis with a twisted, repulsive desire and that knowledge stirred something dark and dangerous within Draen, a slow-burning fury that demanded retribution.
"My bride…" Draen murmured softly.
He then reached out his fingers while brushing tenderly over Lewis's cheek. "Worry not. I will put an end to your misery. Stay by my side and I will give you nothing but happiness. Whatever you desire, I will grant it to you. Anything that causes you pain or discomfort, I will erase."
He leaned closer to the point that his lips ended up pressing a gentle kiss against Lewis's soft lips.
A faint, almost amused breath left him as he whispered, "Though, amusingly enough, I will also be one of the reasons you will face discomfort from here on out." His thumb traced Lewis's cheek once more, possessive yet careful. "But do not fear. I will remain by your side and help you endure it. I have been searching for you, my bride…"
The room remained silent, save for Lewis's steady breathing as Draen watched over him with a devotion that was equal parts tender and terrifying.
Just as Draen finished tucking Lewis in, brushing the blankets over him and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, a knock sounded at the door.
"Come in…" Draen answered softly, careful not to disturb Lewis's rest.
"Your Grace… the Draconum have successfully apprehended him. Shall I take you there?" Alon's voice carried the usual crisp of formality, though there was a hint of anticipation.
Draen's gaze lingered on Lewis's sleeping face for a moment longer before he turned back to Alon.
"That was fast. Already?" he murmured with a faint smirk. "Very well. Lead the way."
As they stepped out, Draen's attention fell on the two knights standing guard by the door.
"Remember," he instructed, voice calm but firm, "no one is to enter this room while I am away. Notify me the moment my bride awakens."
"Understood, Your Grace," both knights answered in perfect unison, eyes unwavering on Draen and Alon as they departed.
The moment the two were out of sight, the knights exchanged a quiet glance and sighed.
"You can come out now," one of them finally said.
From the shadows of the hallway, three maids appeared with their faces alight with excitement.
"You're lucky His Grace didn't scold you just now. Do you think His Grace and Sir Alon didn't notice you sneaking around? Stop loitering here." the eldest scolded.
"Aww… but can we just see him once? I heard His Grace's bride is sleeping inside…" one of the younger maids pleaded, voice quivering with hope.
"Right! We just want a glimpse. My poor heart, waiting for His Grace to have his bride and yet I can't even see him! Boohoo…" another whimpered, hands clasped together in earnest.
"Pretty please, sir knight? We can just peek, really…"
The three lingered with palms rubbing together nervously and eyes glistening with fake tears.
The knights then exchanged a wordless glance before responding in unison, their tone ice-cold.
"No. Return to your tasks immediately. Do not come here again, or you risk disturbing His Grace's bride. Do you wish for us to lose our heads over your nonsense?"
"Boohoo!" the maids retreated down the hall with a chorus of mock-sobbing trailing after them.
Meanwhile, deep within the prison at the heart of the Dukedom, a different scene unfolded.
A man was chained by both wrists with his body battered, clothes soaked in blood and sweat, lips split and bruised. Darkness pressed in from all sides, broken only by the harsh light of the cell.
"So… we meet again, Duke," the man sneered as the heavy door creaked open.
His voice was forced bravado but his eyes betrayed his fear.