Much later, Evan sat quietly in the bath.
Warm water flowed slowly over his shoulders and down his arms, carrying away the dirt, sweat, and dried traces of the day.
The steam filled the small room, soft and quiet.
Normally the warmth would relax him.
Today it did nothing.
No matter how long he stayed there, the heavy feeling inside his chest refused to disappear.
He stared blankly at the surface of the water.
Small ripples moved across it whenever he shifted slightly.
The blood was gone.
Washed away.
But the memory remained.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Unavoidable.
When he closed his eyes, he could still see it clearly.
The rabbit's red eyes looking up at him.
The small cry it made.
The way its body suddenly stopped moving.
Evan's fingers curled slightly under the water.
He sank deeper into the bath.
But there was nowhere to hide from the memory.
After what felt like a very long time, Evan finally stood up.
Water dripped slowly from his hair and shoulders.
He dried himself absentmindedly, barely paying attention to what he was doing.
Then he walked back toward his room.
His movements were slow.
Mechanical.
As if his body was moving on its own while his mind remained somewhere else.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The familiar room felt strangely quiet.
Evan walked to the bed and collapsed onto it.
Still slightly damp.
Too exhausted to care.
He stared up at the ceiling.
His breathing was calm now.
But his mind refused to rest.
The same moment kept replaying again and again.
The rabbit's eyes.
The knife.
The cry.
His stomach twisted again.
A few minutes later, the door opened quietly.
Lyra stepped inside.
Her usual confident presence was gone.
The proud warrior who commanded the training yard every morning had disappeared.
Instead, there was something softer in her expression.
Something heavy.
Guilt.
She closed the door gently behind her and walked toward the bed.
Evan didn't move.
He didn't even turn his head.
Lyra sat down beside him slowly.
For a moment, she simply looked at him.
Then she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.
Evan didn't resist.
He didn't react at all.
He simply allowed it.
Lyra held him carefully, one hand resting against the back of his head while the other wrapped around his shoulders.
"I'm sorry," she whispered softly.
Her voice was quiet.
Almost fragile.
Evan remained silent.
His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling.
Lyra closed her eyes briefly.
"I know that was hard for you."
Her voice carried a heaviness that rarely appeared.
"But it was something you needed to face."
Still, Evan said nothing.
Lyra continued holding him.
Minutes passed in silence.
But neither of them pulled away.
Eventually, Lyra spoke again.
Her voice was softer now.
"I have taken many lives."
Evan's eyes shifted slightly, though he still didn't turn.
Lyra gently brushed her fingers through his damp hair.
"For Lady Elara… for loyalty… and sometimes simply to survive."
Her gaze drifted toward the window.
"When you serve someone like your mother… enemies appear everywhere."
She exhaled slowly.
"Some came with armies."
"Some came with poison."
"And some came smiling… pretending to be allies."
Evan listened quietly.
Lyra's voice grew distant, as if she were walking through old memories.
"The first person I killed…" she said slowly, "…I remember it clearly."
Evan finally turned his head slightly.
Lyra rarely spoke about her past.
"I was younger than you are now."
Her eyes darkened faintly.
"There was a man who tried to assassinate Lady Elara."
She paused.
"He thought a child standing guard would be easy to deal with."
Her expression hardened slightly.
"He was wrong."
Lyra's hand rested gently on Evan's shoulder.
"When my blade cut him… I expected to feel something dramatic."
She gave a faint, bitter smile.
"Fear. Pride. Triumph."
Her eyes lowered.
"But the truth was much simpler."
"I just felt… empty."
The room fell quiet again.
Lyra continued speaking slowly.
"After that first time, the second became easier."
"Then the third."
"Then the tenth."
Her arms tightened around Evan slightly.
"And eventually… the number became too large to remember."
Evan's brows tightened faintly.
Lyra looked down at him.
"And some of them deserved it."
Her voice carried quiet certainty.
"Murderers."
"Traitors."
"People who would have slaughtered entire families for power."
Her gaze softened.
"But not all of them."
Evan's chest tightened slightly.
Lyra's voice dropped.
"In war… there are always people who did nothing wrong."
She paused.
"Messengers."
"Servants."
"Soldiers who were simply following orders."
Her hand slowly clenched against the blanket.
"They were just… in the wrong place."
Silence filled the room.
Lyra took a slow breath.
"I still remember some of their faces."
Her eyes closed briefly.
"Not because they were important."
"But because they looked at me like I was a monster."
Evan slowly turned toward her now.
For the first time since the rabbit died, he spoke.
"Do you regret it?"
Lyra didn't answer immediately.
She thought carefully.
"Some of them," she said honestly.
"But not all."
Her voice became firm again.
"If I hadn't killed them… Lady Elara might have died."
"And if she died… countless more people would have suffered."
She gently pressed her hand against Evan's chest.
"That is the cruel truth of this world."
Evan looked at her quietly.
Lyra leaned her forehead against his.
Her voice softened again.
"As a cultivator… you cannot escape killing."
"You will face enemies."
"You will face monsters."
"You will face people who want what you have."
Her eyes met his directly.
"But you are the one who chooses who deserves to die."
Her tone grew serious.
"So never become a man who kills for pleasure."
"Never become someone who takes life carelessly."
She paused.
Then her voice softened again.
"But when the moment comes…"
"When someone threatens the things you love…"
Her arms tightened around him again.
"Be brave enough to end a life."
The room fell quiet again.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Evan slowly moved.
He turned toward her completely and wrapped his arms around her tightly.
Lyra froze for a moment.
Then she returned the embrace just as tightly.
Evan buried his face against her shoulder.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"It still feels wrong."
Lyra gently rested her cheek against the top of his head.
"I know."
Her hand slowly stroked his hair.
"You're not supposed to feel comfortable with it."
Evan held her a little tighter.
For the first time since the afternoon, the tightness in his chest eased slightly.
Lyra continued holding him, her fingers moving gently through his hair.
"It's alright," she murmured softly.
"I'm here."
The quiet words carried a warmth that eased the storm inside him.
Eventually, exhaustion began to take over.
Evan's breathing slowly steadied.
His grip loosened slightly.
But he didn't let go.
Lyra didn't move either.
She simply stayed there, holding him.
Protecting him from the weight of the world, if only for a little while.
Eventually, both of them drifted into sleep.
Still holding each other.
As the night slowly settled over the estate.