"Ouch," Dydra whined, her brows knitting together as pain flared through her knees. One hand clutched the bedcover tightly over her chest, while the other rubbed at the sore spot as though she could knead the ache away. The crown prince watched her struggle with a faint curve to his lips before a low, restrained chuckle escaped him. She really was clumsy. Almost absurdly so.
The sound reached her ears, and whatever fog lingered in her mind shattered instantly. Her spine straightened, shoulders tensing as she forced herself upright. It took effort, but she managed to stand, her ocean-blue eyes lifting sharply to meet the midnight depths of his gaze. In that moment, recognition failed her. All she saw was a man standing too close, a man with authority, power, and the ability to take whatever he pleased. Her chest tightened painfully as memories overlapped, Hugh's hands ghosting across her skin.
"What did you do to me?" she demanded, though her voice shook despite her attempt at strength.
Leonard tilted his head slightly, studying her as though she were a puzzle that refused to fit together. Didn't she recognize him? Had fear erased him from her memory that quickly? "I saved you," he replied calmly. "That's what I did, Dydra."
His answer only ignited something raw inside her. Tears spilled over again, her hands clenching into fists as her body trembled with anger and humiliation. "Saved me? From what?" she snapped, her voice rising.
"From the man who tried to rape you, little fox," he said evenly, watching every flicker of emotion cross her face.
The nickname struck her like a spark. Her breathing hitched, eyes narrowing as memory slammed back into place. Little fox. Only one man had ever called her that. Her gaze sharpened, tracing his features anew, and realization dawned. It was him. The lord from the forest. The same man from the market. The same man who had stepped in twice—twice—to stop the same kind of filth from touching her. Confusion tangled with fear as the night replayed itself in her mind: being carried, his coat around her shoulders, his voice telling her about the bath.
Her shoulders stiffened as another thought crept in. Why was his shirt unbuttoned? Why was he standing so close? A bitter twist formed in her chest. Was this the price? Was this what all his kindness had been leading to? The forest, the bracelet, the rescue—had it all been an investment? Her lips trembled as resentment flared hot and sharp. Men were all the same. They helped only when they expected something in return.
Leonard watched the rapid shift in her expression with mild irritation. Whatever conclusions she was drawing, they were clearly wrong, and judging by the fury burning in her eyes, they were also deeply insulting. He took a step toward her, intending to speak, but her sharp voice cut through the air.
"Not another step." Her gaze stayed locked on him, defiant despite the fear shimmering beneath it. "I am not that type of girl. Do you think I'll repay you with my body because you saved me?" She clenched her teeth, her voice trembling but firm. "Listen carefully, my lord. I will not go through that again."
Her heart thundered violently as she spoke. Somewhere in the chaos of her thoughts, Oryen's words echoed back to her. You are a witch. The realization sparked something reckless. If she truly was a witch, then she should be able to defend herself. The fact that she had no idea how to cast a spell slipped conveniently out of her mind.
"I have magic," she blurted out. "I can do witchcraft. Come any closer, and I will show you no mercy."
Leonard blinked once, then almost laughed. He wasn't shocked. He had known the moment he met her—her aura, her scent, the dormant power clinging to her like a shadow. She belonged to the old bloodlines, the forgotten clans. What amused him was her ignorance. She didn't even know what she was threatening him with. Still, he found the fire in her eyes… entertaining.
"Is that so, little fox?" he asked softly, taking one deliberate step forward.
She immediately stepped back, her eyes flashing a warning. His lips twitched. Amused now, he took another step. She retreated again, her back brushing dangerously close to the wall. Panic flared, and for a split second her gaze darted around the room. She froze, stunned by her surroundings. The chamber was massive—thick dark curtains embroidered with gold draped over tall windows, a grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling, its candles casting warm light across polished stone. The bed alone could swallow several people whole, yet the room was so vast it made the furniture seem small.
The moment of distraction cost her.
When she snapped her head back toward him, he was no longer where she had last seen him. Her heart leapt violently. Fear clawed up her spine as she searched the space. Then she saw him—standing to her side, far too close. She recoiled instinctively, but her back hit the wall with a dull thud. There was nowhere left to go.
Leonard stood a single step away, his presence overwhelming in the confined space. He studied the fear in her eyes carefully before speaking. "I don't want your body, little fox." His voice was steady, sincere. Slowly, the terror drained from her gaze, replaced by disbelief. She exhaled shakily, relief washing over her limbs so fast it nearly buckled her knees.
"Thank you," she said quietly, bowing her head. "For saving me yesterday… and for helping me in the forest."
He nodded once, accepting her gratitude, then his gaze swept over her appearance. "Why didn't you listen to me when I told you to wash up?" he asked, irritation creeping into his tone. "Do you enjoy walking around like this?"
Heat rushed to her face instantly. She tightened her grip on the bedcover and avoided his eyes. "I didn't want to intrude, my lord," she admitted.
"Then what exactly were you planning to do?" he countered sharply. "Walk out of my room wrapped in my sheets?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned away. "I'll have another bath prepared—"
"No!" she blurted out, panic seizing her. If a maid saw her here, rumors would spread like wildfire. A strange girl in a nobleman's chamber—worse, a man so clearly close to the crown. People would ask questions. Questions would lead to truth. And the truth would get her killed.
Leonard paused mid-step, glancing back at her with narrowed eyes.
She swallowed hard, her grip tightening around the fabric. "Please," she added more softly, her voice trembling with fear. "I can handle it myself."
And for the first time, Leonard truly understood just how fragile her position in this castle was.