I barely understood why the words came out so quickly.
Maybe because the room felt colder every time he moved away. Maybe because waking up alone suddenly sounded unbearable.
"Stay," I whispered weakly.
Draven looked down at my hand gripping his sleeve.
Then at me.
"You'll survive three minutes without me."
"Not willingly."
A pause.
Then— a long, tired sigh escaped him.
"You're troublesome."
But he sat down anyway.
Not on the chair this time.
On the edge of the bed.
The movement alone somehow eased some of the panic curling inside my chest.
Without thinking much, I reached for his arm again, my fever-warm hand lightly holding onto him.
Draven looked down at it briefly.
But he didn't move it away.
"Talk," I murmured sleepily.
One brow lifted slightly.
"About what?"
"Anything."
He leaned back slightly against the headboard with visible reluctance.
Then sighed.
"Once upon a time," he began flatly, "there was a stubborn woman who ignored every intelligent instruction given to her."
Even through the fever haze, I frowned weakly.
"You're talking about me."
"I don't know what you mean."
"You sound irritated already."
"Because she was irritating."
I made a soft sound of protest against the pillow.
Draven continued anyway.
"She wandered into restricted places. Spoke to suspicious people. Nearly fainted twice in one day."
"That definitely sounds personal."
"It gets worse."
I almost smiled despite myself.
My fingers tightened slightly around his sleeve as another wave of exhaustion pulled heavily at me.
Draven glanced down briefly before continuing.
"The woman also had a terrible habit of creating problems and expecting other people to solve them."
"That part isn't true."
"It is."
"No, it isn't."
"You're arguing while half-conscious."
"…I can multitask."
A faint scoff left him.
Then after a brief silence, his voice shifted slightly quieter.
"There was also a fairy princess."
My eyes opened weakly again.
"A fairy princess?"
"Yes."
"You're making this up now."
"Obviously."
I stared at him sleepily.
"She sounds prettier than the stubborn woman."
"She wasn't."
That answer came too quickly.
My lips curved faintly.
The warmth of the fever, the sound of his voice, the steady feeling of his arm beneath my hand— everything slowly blurred together.
My eyelids began slipping closed again.
Draven noticed immediately.
His fingers tapped lightly against my cheek.
"Don't sleep while the Duke is speaking."
I forced my eyes open halfway.
"You're not a Duke right now."
"Wrong answer."
Another soft tap against my cheek.
I tried glaring at him for it.
The effort failed completely.
The room swayed slightly again.
My grip against his sleeve loosened little by little as exhaustion dragged harder at me.
Draven watched quietly.
Then finally— I lost the fight entirely.
My head tipped sideways against the pillow again.
Another soft sigh escaped him.
"Unbelievable."
I felt the mattress shift slightly as he adjusted the pillows beneath my neck carefully so I could breathe easier.
The blanket was pulled higher over me afterward.
Then, very quietly—
"Stubborn cub."
The words barely reached me through the haze.
But somehow— they stayed.
A moment later, the bed dipped slightly behind me.
And for the first time since entering the North—
I fell asleep feeling safe.
....
....
A sound woke me.
Small.
Almost nothing.
The faint creak of wood shifting outside the door.
My eyes opened weakly through the fever haze just as Draven's expression changed.
Instantly.
Cold.
Sharp.
Deadly.
He was already looking toward the entrance.
Listening.
Then—
another sound.
A footstep retreating down the corridor.
Fast.
My pulse stumbled.
Draven rose from the bed slowly, far too calmly for the terrifying look now settling across his face.
And only then—
through the lingering fever and exhaustion—
I remembered.
I had called him by his real name.
Not Raphael.
Draven.
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Murderous.
Then Draven spoke without turning back.
Very quietly.
"…Stay here."
The door opened.
And the last thing I saw before he disappeared into the darkness was the look in his eyes.
Someone was about to die.
The door closed behind him.
Silence settled again.
But this time, it wasn't the same silence as before.
It felt… structured.
Like something had already been decided inside it.
I stayed sitting on the bed for a while longer, staring at the space where he had stood.
My chest still felt slightly tight.
Not fear.
Something closer to unease I couldn't explain.
Eventually, exhaustion won again.
And I slept.
****
Morning
I woke to quiet.
Not the heavy, suffocating kind.
A controlled quiet.
Familiar.
My fever was gone.
I sat up slowly, expecting pain—but there was none.
Just stillness.
The room was already arranged neatly again.
Too neatly.
My eyes shifted toward the bed near the window.
Draven was there.
Lying down.
Fully dressed.
Arm over his eyes.
As if he had never moved since last night.
For a moment, I just watched him.
Something about it felt wrong.
Too still for someone like him.
I stood carefully and walked closer.
"Draven?" I called softly.
No response.
I frowned slightly and reached out.
The moment my fingers touched his hand—
his grip closed around my wrist.
Fast.
Controlled.
But not aggressive.
My breath caught.
His eyes opened halfway.
Not surprised.
Not startled.
Just… confirming.
"You're courting death," he said flatly.
Then paused.
His gaze shifted fully onto me.
"…Seraphina."
And just like that—
his grip loosened.
Instantly.
Like it had never been tight at all.
He sat up slowly, adjusting his collar.
Composed again.
But I saw it now.
He hadn't been sleeping.
He had been listening.
Waiting.
The memory of last night returned fully to me.
The footsteps.
The retreat.
The feeling of being observed.
I swallowed slightly.
"…Someone was outside last night," I said.
Draven didn't react immediately.
That was the answer.
He already knew.
After a moment, he spoke.
"They didn't come closer than they intended."
My fingers tightened slightly.
"So it was real."
"Yes."
A pause.
Then I asked carefully,
"You didn't chase them?"
His eyes flicked briefly toward me.
"No."
That made me freeze slightly.
"…Why?"
He leaned back again, voice calm.
"Because they wanted to be seen leaving."
Silence.
That changed the entire meaning.
I felt something shift in my chest.
"So it wasn't an intrusion…"
"It was confirmation," he said.
I went quiet.
A slow, uncomfortable realization formed.
Someone had tested the room.
And Draven had let them leave knowing exactly that.
My voice lowered.
"…What does that mean?"
He stood then.
Slowly.
Like the conversation had already reached its limit.
"It means," he said, "your morning outside is no longer safe in the way you think it is."
Draven's words didn't leave my mind easily.
"My morning outside is no longer safe."
I looked at him quickly.
"…You mean they really heard something last night?"
His gaze didn't shift.
"They confirmed your movement," he said simply.
My chest tightened.
"Confirmed… how?"
He paused once.
Then—
"You were observed being monitored."
That made my stomach drop slightly.
"So someone is watching me?"
"Yes."
One word.
No emotion.
That calm certainty made it worse.
I swallowed.
"…Then I need to go out."
His eyes sharpened instantly.
"No."
Immediate.
Final.
I frowned.
"I'm not asking to leave the estate. Just the grounds. I need to see what's changed. If people are avoiding me—if guards have shifted—"
"You will see nothing useful alone," he cut in.
I hesitated.
Then stepped forward slightly.
"Then come with me."
A pause.
That one landed differently.
His gaze stayed on me for a long moment.
Then—
"No."
My irritation flickered.
"Then what do you expect me to do? Sit here?"
"You test a trap by watching it," he said calmly, "not walking into it."
I exhaled slowly.
"I'm not walking into anything. I just need to observe."
His expression didn't change.
"You will observe incorrectly."
I blinked.
"…Excuse me?"
He stepped closer slightly.
Not aggressive.
Just enough to pressure the space between us.
"Because you will react," he said. "And they are waiting for that."
Silence.
That hit harder than I expected.
My voice lowered.
"So I'm supposed to do nothing?"
"No."
Another pause.
Then—
"You do it my way."