Draven glanced at the gown for a moment, then back at me as if the issue was entirely logical.
"How was I supposed to know your size?"
he asked calmly. "I used Elara's measurements."
I froze.
Slowly, I turned to face him.
"Elara?" I repeated.
He nodded once, completely unbothered.
My brows tightened.
"She's slimmer than I am," I said flatly.
A brief pause.
Then I added, sharper this time,
"And you're terrible at simple domestic things."
That finally made him look at me properly.
Not offended. Not surprised.
Just… evaluating.
He said nothing at first.
Then, as if the matter had already been dismissed in his mind, he slid his dagger back into its sheath with a quiet click.
I exhaled through my nose, still staring at him.
"Seriously," I continued, "Elara's measurements? Of all people?"
"She was the closest reference," he replied evenly.
"That's the problem," I shot back. "She is not 'close.' She is significantly smaller than me."
Another pause.
His gaze lingered on me for a second longer than necessary.
Then—
"I adjusted mentally," he said.
I stared at him.
"…You adjusted mentally?"
"Yes."
I blinked once.
Then scoffed quietly.
"You are awful at simple domestic judgment."
That time, something faint flickered in his expression—but he didn't respond.
Instead, he turned slightly away as if the discussion was already over.
Which, unfortunately, probably meant it had.
I stared at his back for a moment before moving slowly toward the side of the bed.
The room had gone quieter now.
Too quiet.
Draven sat near the table, one leg slightly crossed over the other as he removed his shoes with the same calm precision he seemed to do everything with.
A few books already lay open beside him, maps partially unfolded beneath the candlelight.
And just like that—
he had shifted again.
From dangerous man… to calculating Duke.
As if terrifying a council chamber and adjusting my dress moments ago had meant absolutely nothing to him.
My fingers curled faintly against the edge of the bed.
Should I tell him?
The thought came suddenly. Heavy.
Stephen's face flashed across my mind. That smile.
That pressure beneath his voice.
Then— the signature carved into his arm.
My chest tightened.
Would Draven be angry?
No. That wasn't the real question.
Would he think I had hidden it intentionally?
Would whatever strange fragile thing forming between us disappear the moment I spoke?
I lowered my gaze.
No.
I had to tell him.
Before things became worse.
Before Stephen moved first.
I inhaled quietly, gathering my thoughts, then looked toward him again.
"Drav—"
I stopped myself immediately.
"…Raphael."
He didn't look up from the book in his hand.
But he answered anyway.
"I'm listening."
The simple response somehow made my nerves worse.
I swallowed lightly.
"It's about the affairs in the mansion," I said carefully. "The Everfrost House."
That got his attention.
Not fully. Not visibly.
But I noticed the slight pause of his fingers against the page.
Then he asked calmly,
"Is Elara safe?"
The question came immediately. Without hesitation.
Something softened painfully in my chest.
"Yes," I answered quickly. "She's safe."
Only then did he continue turning the page.
I stared at him.
How was he still this calm?
"Raphael, there's something else I need to—"
"We'll discuss it later."
The words were smooth. Dismissive.
My brows tightened immediately.
He closed the book softly and stood.
"I'm taking a walk around the estate."
A walk?
Now?
I rose from the bed quickly before I could stop myself.
"No, wait—I really need to tell you this."
For the first time since the conversation started, he looked directly at me.
Then he lifted one hand slightly.
Not harsh. Not forceful.
Just enough to stop me from continuing.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Draven sighed quietly before stepping toward me.
Closer.
Too close.
"You're tense," he said calmly.
His eyes lingered on my face for a brief second, as if trying to read something beneath my expression.
Then—
"When I return."
Low. Certain.
As if that settled everything.
My throat tightened slightly.
Because I already knew.
The moment he returned, something else would happen. Another meeting. Another strategy. Another interruption.
And somehow—
this conversation would continue slipping further away from me.
He turned before I could stop him again, reaching for the dark coat resting near the chair.
The candlelight caught briefly against the silver ring on his hand.
Then the door opened.
Cold air brushed softly into the room.
And just before stepping out, he paused slightly without looking back.
"Lock the door after me."
Then he left.
The quiet that followed felt heavier than before.
I stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door while unease slowly settled deeper into my chest.
Because for some reason—
this felt like a mistake.
***
The room felt unbearably quiet after Draven left.
I stood near the door for a while longer, staring at the space he had disappeared into, unease pressing heavily against my chest.
Then finally— I exhaled.
Maybe food would help calm my thoughts. Or at least distract them.
I stepped out of the room carefully, locking the door behind me just as he instructed.
The corridors were dimmer now, the estate quieter than before.
Most servants lowered their heads respectfully the moment they noticed me.
"Lady Seraphina."
I nodded faintly as I passed them, forcing myself to appear calmer than I felt.
The kitchens were still warm when I arrived.
The smell of herbs and roasted meat lingered heavily in the air while a few maids hurried between counters carrying trays.
The moment they noticed me, they stiffened. Then bowed quickly.
"My Lady."
One hurried to prepare something for me, but before I could answer, I turned the corner too quickly and collided lightly into someone.
A sharp scent of medicinal herbs filled the air instantly.
"Oh—"
I stepped back immediately.
"I apologize."
The woman before me steadied herself calmly.
Older. Elegant in a severe sort of way.
Dark robes draped over her shoulders, marked subtly with the insignia of the royal physicians.
The kingdom's native doctor.
Her eyes lingered on me strangely. Not rudely.
Not warmly either.
Studying.
Then—
"Lady Seraphina," she said quietly.
Something about the way she spoke my name made my chest tighten slightly.
"I didn't see you," I replied carefully.
A pause followed.
Then the woman glanced briefly around the kitchen before speaking again.
"There is something I would like to discuss with you."
My brows furrowed faintly.
"Now?"
"Yes."
Simple. Certain.
The maids nearby suddenly looked uncomfortable.
Avoidant.
That alone made me uneasy.
Still— I followed her.
The deeper parts of the estate were quieter. Older.
Torchlight flickered weakly against stone walls as she led me through a narrow corridor near the western library wing.
The moment she closed the door behind us inside the small private study, I felt my pulse tighten.
Too enclosed. Too hidden.
The doctor noticed immediately.
"You're frightened," she observed calmly.
"I'm cautious," I corrected.
Something faint—almost resembling amusement—crossed her face.
"Good," she said softly. "You should be."
That didn't help.
The room smelled heavily of parchment, dust, and herbs.
Shelves lined every wall, packed tightly with old books and scrolls.
Then the doctor spoke again.
"You know very little about the North."
I stayed quiet.
She walked slowly toward one of the shelves.
"The council speaks of honor," she continued softly. "Of preservation. Of loyalty to the kingdom."
A bitter smile touched her lips briefly.
"But kingdoms are rarely built on honorable things."
My chest tightened slightly.
"What are you trying to tell me?"
Instead of answering directly, she looked at me carefully.
"I have a daughter."
That surprised me.
"She serves in the South," the woman continued. "Within the Everfrost estate."
Now I was confused.
"Then why are you helping the South if you belong to the North?"
For the first time, genuine exhaustion crossed her face.
"Because I made a mistake," she admitted quietly.
A pause.
"A terrible one."
Her fingers tightened slightly against the shelf beside her.
"I helped the North uncover something they should never have found."
The room felt still.
"And now?" I asked carefully.
She looked away briefly before answering.
"My daughter would never forgive me if the South falls because of my silence."
Something in her voice made my chest tighten.
Not fear. Regret.
Deep regret.
Before I could ask more, she pressed her fingers against the edge of one bookshelf.
A soft click echoed.
My breath caught.
Part of the shelf shifted backward slowly, revealing a narrow hidden compartment behind it.
I stared silently.
The doctor reached inside carefully and pulled out a black file bound tightly in worn leather.
Even from where I stood, it looked wrong somehow.
Old. Hidden. Dangerous.
The Everfrost crest was pressed faintly into the cover.
And near the corner— a dark stain.
Old blood.
My heartbeat slowed painfully.
"What is that?"
The woman looked at the file for a long moment before handing it toward me.
"This," she said quietly, "is the reason the South will fall."
I hesitated before taking it.
It felt heavier than paper should.
"The late Duke Edward Everfrost made a mistake before his death," she continued.
My fingers tightened around the file instantly.
"And when election day arrives, that mistake will destroy the South entirely."
Cold spread slowly through my chest.
"The North intends to use it?"
"They intend to bury the South beneath it."
The room suddenly felt colder.
I swallowed carefully.
"What did Duke Edward do?"
The doctor's expression hardened immediately.
"No."
The refusal came sharp. Absolute.
"The less you know for now, the safer you remain."
Safer?
Nothing about this felt safe anymore.
I looked down at the black file in my hands.
Did Draven know about this?
Was this why Stephen had threatened me?
Was this what everyone had been circling around the entire time?
The doctor stepped closer suddenly, lowering her voice.
"If the wrong people discover you have that file…"
A pause.
"You will not survive long enough to open it."
My pulse jumped.
"Hurry," she whispered urgently. "Hide it before someone sees us."
My breath caught.
Quickly, I slid the black file beneath the folds of my skirt, pressing it tightly against my side.
The doctor moved toward the door immediately.
"We need to leave. Now."
I nodded quickly.
But just as we stepped out—
A voice echoed through the corridor.
Cold. Sharp.
"Why," my father asked slowly, "are you in my secret room?"
My entire body went still.
The doctor stepped back immediately.
I turned sharply toward the entrance.
My father stood there watching us.
Not angry.
That would have been easier.
He looked suspicious.
Dangerously suspicious.
His gaze moved slowly from the doctor— to me— then lingered for one brief second near the folds of my skirt.
And for the first time since entering that room—
I truly felt afraid.