The chamber was steeped in hush. Pale runelight pulsed along the walls, casting its calm glow over Rael's broken body. The healers worked in silence—hands deft, voices soft, weaving herbs and chants to steady his fading strength.
Rael drifted in darkness. Pain dragged him down, but sometimes he thought he heard footsteps, whispers, and a voice sharper than the rest—firm, commanding, impossible to mistake.
The first day, Evelyn entered the chamber. The healers bowed at once, lowering their heads until she permitted otherwise. Her cloak trailed across the polished floor as she approached the bedside, her gaze sharp and unwavering.
"What is his condition?" she asked, her tone clear as a blade.
"He lives, my lady," one healer replied. "But his strength is thin. He needs time."
Evelyn's expression remained unreadable, though her eyes lingered on Rael's pale face longer than expected. At last she said, "Then see that no error is made. This boy bore Elara back through flame and serpent's fang. Weak though he is, he proved stronger than many who boast of steel. He will not be forgotten—nor lost."
The healers bowed deeper, their voices murmuring obedience. Evelyn turned, her cloak sweeping as she left, though her gaze flickered back to him for one fleeting heartbeat.
The second day, his fever broke, though he lay still as stone. Again Evelyn came, the chamber stilling at her presence.
"Has he improved?" she asked.
"A little, my lady," said the eldest healer. "His breath is steady. But he has yet to wake."
She stepped closer, her posture straight, her hands folded before her. For a moment she simply studied him—the mortal who carried Elara from ruin, lying now fragile and unmoving.
"He clings to life," she said at last. "See that none disturbs this fight. His battle is his own, but he will not fight it unattended."
The healers bowed once more, and Evelyn departed, her expression cool, though her steps lingered a fraction slower than the day before.
The third day, the chamber was calmer. Rael's color had returned faintly, his chest rising with even breath. Evelyn entered as before, her presence commanding silence.
"Tell me," she said, her voice quieter now but no less firm. "Will he wake soon?"
"He mends well, my lady," answered a healer. "Perhaps today."
Evelyn's eyes rested on Rael, and for the first time her tone softened, barely above a whisper. "Reckless human. Foolish… and yet unyielding. Do not force me to explain to my grandfather why the one who carried Elara home now lies cold."
She turned, as if to leave.
And then Rael stirred.
His eyelids fluttered open, his vision blurred, yet among the shifting shadows there was one figure he knew at once. Her cloak, her bearing, the pale glow of runelight framing her—Evelyn.
"…Evelyn?" His voice was hoarse, broken.
She froze, the name striking her sharper than steel. Slowly, she faced him. Her composure was flawless, her shoulders squared—but when their eyes met, something within her faltered.
His gaze was weary yet steady, filled with quiet strength despite the pain. And in that single glance, Evelyn felt her breath catch. Against her will, her heart stirred—strange, unfamiliar, dangerous.
"So," she said, her voice carefully measured, "the human wakes."
Rael's lips curved into a faint smile. "Three days?"
Evelyn arched a brow, clinging to poise though her pulse quickened. "You counted even in fever?"
He shook his head weakly. "No. I just knew… you would keep track."
Her composure slipped for the briefest instant, the corner of her mouth betraying a shadow of a smile. Heat touched her cheeks, and she drew her cloak closer, regaining her dignity.
"Rest now, Rael Drakenhart," she commanded softly. "You tempt fate too easily. And…" She hesitated, her voice lowering against her own will. "And do not leave this world yet. Not while I still watch."
His eyes closed again, the faint smile lingering even as sleep reclaimed him.
Evelyn stood unmoving, her heart unsteady. For the first time in her long life, she turned and left not because she wished to—but because she feared if she stayed, he would see too much in her eyes.