Veyra couldn’t sleep.
At least, not at first.
She remained on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Her eyes kept moving around the room.
Nothing.
Still, she could feel it.
That strange presence.
She couldn’t see anyone, hear anyone, or find anything unusual.
Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone.
She glanced at Eryndor.
He was still asleep.
‘How is he sleeping this peacefully?’
She turned onto her side.
Then onto her back again.
She tried closing her eyes.
A few seconds passed.
She opened them again.
‘They’re still here.’
Eventually, exhaustion won.
By the time she finally fell asleep, the first light of dawn had already begun creeping through the windows.
Eryndor woke before her.
He remained still for a moment, staring at the ceiling.
Then a shadow appeared beside the bed.
One of his Shadow Guards emerged silently from the darkness.
“Your Majesty.”
Eryndor turned his head toward him.
“What happened?”
The Shadow Guard lowered his head.
“She made no attempt to contact anyone.
No messages, signals, or other means of communication.”
Eryndor’s gaze shifted toward Veyra.
“Nothing else?”
“She disposed of the food.”
His eyes narrowed.
“All of it?”
“Almost all.
She used the utensils to make it appear as though she had eaten.”
Eryndor was silent for a moment.
‘did She think it was poisoned?’
Considering everything she had been through, it wasn’t an unreasonable conclusion.
But she had already gone more than two days without properly eating.
His gaze remained on her.
‘I’ll eat with her.’
Perhaps seeing him eat the same food would convince her it was safe.
Then he remembered the previous night.
She had sensed the Shadows.
Not clearly enough to identify them.
But enough to know that someone else was in the room.
His expression hardened.
‘Far from ordinary.’
He looked back at the Shadow Guard.
“Continue watching her.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Don’t let her leave the room.
And if she attempts to communicate with anyone, tell me immediately.”
The Shadow disappeared.
Eryndor stood.
There was one other matter he needed to settle.
Her clothes.
The examination was brief, but the results were enough to make him pause.
“We need more,” the craftsman said.
Eryndor’s eyes remained on the sample.
“How much?”
“Enough to examine the structure properly.
This piece is too small.”
“What have you determined so far?”
“The protective property comes from the fabric itself.
It isn’t simply an enchantment placed over it.”
He pointed toward the sample.
“There are traces of metal within the material, but we don’t recognize the composition.”
“Can it be reproduced?”
“Not exactly.”
A pause.
“With a larger sample, we might be able to understand how the metal was incorporated.
Then we could attempt to make something similar using what we have.”
“Similar.”
“Yes.”
“It would be heavier.”
“Much heavier.”
“Weaker.”
“Yes.”
“And less effective.”
The craftsman nodded.
“But possible.”
Eryndor studied the tiny piece for another moment.
“Find out everything you can.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
When Eryndor returned to his chambers, Veyra was still asleep.
He glanced at her once before walking toward the sofa near the windows.
There was no reason to wake her.
He sat down and reached for the reports waiting on the table.
A cup of tea was brought shortly afterward.
He read.
Signed.
Rejected.
Approved.
Then he took a blank sheet and began writing an order of his own.
The room settled into silence once more.
Only the scratch of his pen and the occasional clink of porcelain disturbed it.
Time passed.
The sunlight slowly moved across the floor.
Eryndor finished one report and reached for another.
Then—
Veyra shifted beneath the covers.
His pen paused.
She turned onto her side.
Her brows furrowed.
Then her eyes slowly opened.
Eryndor looked up from the parchment.
Their eyes met.
He calmly took another sip of tea.
“Good morning.”
Veyra blinked herself awake.
Her eyes wandered around the room before landing on Eryndor.
He was sitting on the sofa by the windows, calmly reading a report with a cup of tea beside him.
She stared at him.
Then her eyes narrowed.
“You betrayed me.”
Eryndor slowly lowered the parchment.
“…What?”
“You said you’d stay.”
“I said you should sleep.”
His brows drew together.
“And?”
“You slept too.”
He stared at her.
She stared back.
“You were supposed to stay awake.”
“Why?”
“So I wouldn’t be alone.”
Eryndor glanced around the room.
“You weren’t alone.”
Veyra’s eyes widened.
“You know what I mean.”
“No.”
She sat up properly, looking genuinely offended.
“I trusted you.”
Eryndor’s expression remained completely blank.
“You’ve known me for two days.”
“I expected better from you ”
He stared at her for several seconds.
Then he picked up his tea again.
“You were asleep.”
“That doesn’t excuse it.”
Eryndor took a slow sip.
He had faced assassins with less confusion.
Eryndor returned his attention to the papers.
“You should eat.”
Veyra looked at him.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
He picked up the bell from the table and rang it once.
A servant entered shortly afterward and bowed.
“Prepare breakfast.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Eryndor glanced toward Veyra.
“We’ll eat in the dining room.”
Veyra looked toward the door.
“The dining room?”
“Yes.”
She nodded slowly.
A few minutes later, another group of servants arrived.
They cleared the remaining things from the room and prepared everything for breakfast.
Eryndor rose from the sofa.
Veyra followed him, still holding the hair towel loosely over one shoulder after she showered
They left his chambers together.
The corridors were quieter than they had been the previous day, though Veyra noticed that the guards around them were still more numerous than before.
She glanced behind her.
The two guards who had followed them earlier were there again.
‘They really don’t trust me?
Or he is always moving with two guards behind him ?’
She looked forward.
At least they weren’t trying to put her back in the dungeon.
For now.
The large doors of the dining room opened before them.
Eryndor entered first.
Veyra followed.
The table had already been prepared.
She looked at the amount of food arranged across it.
“…Is this breakfast?”
Eryndor glanced at her.
“Yes.”
She stared at the table.
‘They really don’t know the meaning of ‘light meal,’ do they?’