Oriana's heart thundered against her chest as she turned to him. She searched his face, and she had never seen him like this before.
Something flashed in his eyes, and her heart skipped. She could not even tell what it was.
Icarus was the only man who had ever touched her like this, the only one who had ever kissed her, yet she had never touched another man. Was that why he knew?
Was it the dance she had with the king?
Or was it when he had gripped her neck?
Just as her thoughts drifted to that moment, her stomach flipped as butterflies danced through it. Her eyes slowly turned cold as she spoke calmly.
"It does not matter. Let's go back to bed."
The softness in her tone contrasted sharply with the coldness in her eyes.
Why did he care?
He had left as though he did not care when she told him she was getting married. And if he had said the words—
Don't.
She would not have gone through with it.
But why should she explain anything now… when he had not cared before?
Icarus stood from the bed. His eyes were deadly, the grayness deepening into something darker, more intense. His jaw ticked as he stared straight ahead, blank, purely blank.
Oriana stared at him, confusion flickering across her face. Why was he reacting like this? She had not done anything wrong. Besides… she did not owe him anything, did she?
"Don't be ridiculous, Rus. Come to bed. Let's have a restful sleep. No need to act like this over spilled milk," she said softly.
His head snapped toward her. Her body flinched slightly, not expecting the coldness etched across his face—or was it disbelief?
"Ridiculous? You call this ridiculous?" His voice was a low, cold whisper as his hands raked through his hair.
He walked to the bed, and Oriana's eyes followed every step. She bit her lower lip, holding back the words that burned her throat. She had a lot to say—why had he left when she told him about her marriage?
He sat, and Oriana sighed softly, realizing that he was no longer cold like before. Now, there was a calmness to him, though his expression remained unreadable.
But for the first time, his eyes almost betrayed something… a flicker, a shadow of feeling.
Her fingers curled around the duvet as she opened her mouth to speak—but he turned to her, his gaze piercing.
"Tell me his name."
Oriana's lips parted. She had not expected this question from him—not at all. She had never seen him like this, never since they had met.
And of all the questions he could ask, now it was… the name of that man. What was he even planning?
She could not.
She knew Zaroth was dangerous—someone not to be messed with. And on the other hand… she was all too aware of how powerful Icarus was.
"It does not matter, Icarus. Give it a rest. Let's stop this. His name…"
Her chest heaved as she lowered her gaze to her hands. A faint flush spread across her cheeks as she spoke softly, almost to herself,
"His name does not matter."
The way she said it sounded as if she were trying to convince herself.
Her reaction… her hesitation, her careful defiance—ignited something deeper in Icarus. Flames of something unspoken surged through him. He did not like the way she had reacted to that man.
He stood, his gaze fixed ahead before shifting, and began to walk toward the door, each step deliberate, heavy with a tension that seemed to thrum through the room.
Oriana abruptly rose, her voice sharp, more like an order this time, freezing him in place.
"Don't, Icarus. Don't you dare."
Her eyes were distant, unreadable. Icarus turned toward her, taken aback, then slowly nodded as if convincing himself to listen to her, shifting his gaze away.
"Sweetheart, let me fetch him. I just want a harmless conversation with him… no blood. Well… of course, if he initiates it." His words were soft, but the deadliness beneath them spoke volumes.
Oriana's eyes widened, her brows knitting together in confusion. Icarus… wanting to go out of his way to talk to someone else… because of her? And of all people—the most dangerous man she had ever met. She had thought Icarus himself was dangerous… until now.
"Please…" Oriana raised her hands to stop him. Icarus hesitated. His fingers loosened from the doorknob he was about to grasp. He had never seen her react like this… because of anyone.
"How long?" he asked, his voice calm now, the coldness beneath it slicing through her.
Her bare feet rested on the cold tile as she shifted, turning her face away.
"It does not matter. Let us end this topic and go to sle—"
CRASH.
Oriana flinched, her eyes widening in shock. The glass lamp had shattered on the floor. But then… horror melted into surprise.
He had fallen.
Icarus sat on the floor, one leg bent upward, the other stretched across the tiles, his back leaning against the door. His face buried in his hands, resting on his bent knee. His hair fell across his face, concealing him. He remained utterly still.
Oriana moved slowly.
She slipped on her flip-flops, careful to avoid the shards of glass. Reaching him, she bent down, her finger hovering over him, hesitant. Slowly, she lifted his face, her fingers on his chin and cheeks—and her heart dropped.
Tears.
Icarus was crying. His mouth opened and closed silently as she stared. Even like this, he looked unreal—his face breathtaking, like a painting out of reach, too perfect to exist. But that was not the part that surprised her… well, maybe a little.
Tears streamed down his cheeks, his hair falling over them, adding a strange, agonizing beauty to his tear-streaked face. And yet… despite the tears, his eyes remained dead.
"It's late. Go to bed," he spoke calmly, as if his tears did not matter, but she did. No crack in his voice, steady as ever.
Oriana moved as she pressed her lips softly to his eyes. His body froze.
She slowly stood.
"I will give you time. When you are done, come to b…bed," she whispered, holding back her own tears. She did not like this—seeing him like this, even if he looked breathtaking. She preferred him happy. She did not want to bring sadness to anyone. Perhaps she just needed to give him time.
She walked to the bed and lay down, pulling the duvet to her neck. She trusted him and waited.
Time passed. Her eyes grew heavy, but they snapped open when she heard footsteps. He had finally stood—relief washed through her as she was grateful that he was finally coming to bed.
She turned—but he was walking to the window.
She sat up immediately, panic rising. She opened her mouth to speak as he opened the window of the room.
And before she could react…
He jumped.
"ICARUS!"
Her scream tore through her throat, raw and desperate.