Draven stared at me for a long moment after I asked for my reward.
Then slowly—
his hand lifted.
I expected him to mock me again.
Instead, his fingers brushed lightly over my hair before patting my head once.
Gentle.
Lazy.
"There," he murmured. "Your reward."
I blinked at him before laughing softly.
"That's all?"
"You're lucky I'm tolerating you at all."
"Such cruelty."
"Mm."
But despite the coldness in his voice, he didn't move away when I shifted closer beside him.
The room slowly grew quieter after that.
No teasing. No arguments.
Just silence.
Comfortable silence.
I laid beside him carefully, my head resting near enough to hear the slow rhythm of his heartbeat beneath the quiet room.
Steady.
Calm.
Dangerously calming for someone like him.
My eyes slowly drifted shut while listening to it.
And somehow—
for the first time since arriving in the North—
sleep came easily.
****
Warm sunlight slipped through the curtains in thin golden lines, stretching across the floor and the edge of the bed.
I blinked awake slowly.
For one brief second, I forgot where I was.
Then I turned instinctively—
and frowned.
Draven was gone.
Of course he was.
I pushed myself upright before noticing him across the room instead.
Sleeping on the second bed near the window.
I stared at him blankly.
"This man honestly has problems," I muttered under my breath.
One arm rested over his eyes while the other lay across his stomach carelessly, dark hair slightly messy from sleep.
Or fake sleep.
With him, it was difficult to tell.
After bathing, I sat quietly near the mirror brushing through my hair before applying light makeup slowly.
My gaze kept drifting back toward him.
Still unmoving.
Still silent.
Eventually, curiosity won.
I stood and walked toward him carefully before crouching beside the bed.
For a moment, I simply stared.
He really was unfairly handsome.
Even while asleep.
Then before I could rethink it—
I reached out and pinched his cheek lightly.
Instantly—
his hand wrapped around my wrist.
Fast.
My breath caught softly.
Slowly, crimson eyes opened beneath heavy silver lashes.
Sleepy.
Annoyed.
Dangerous.
"You're irritating," he muttered hoarsely.
I burst out laughing quietly.
"You barely sleep and suddenly now you care about rest?"
A quiet scoff left him.
I smiled triumphantly before standing and walking back toward the mirror again.
Behind me, the mattress shifted softly.
"Where are you going?" he asked after a moment.
"Outside."
"No."
The answer came immediately.
I blinked at his reflection in the mirror.
"I didn't even finish speaking."
"You were going to say something foolish afterward anyway."
"That's unfair."
"It's accurate."
I rolled my eyes before turning toward him fully.
"I'm not leaving the estate. I just want fresh air."
"You can breathe through the window."
I stared at him in disbelief.
"You're impossible."
"And you attract problems unnaturally."
That made me pause slightly.
Because he sounded serious now.
Draven finally pushed himself upright slowly, rubbing one hand across his face before looking toward me again.
His eyes were still faintly red from exhaustion.
"You're still being watched," he said calmly.
The reminder made my chest tighten faintly.
The footsteps outside the door last night.
The silent confirmation.
I swallowed carefully.
"But I'm still the Duchess here," I argued softly. "They can't openly touch me."
Draven leaned back against the headboard.
"People become brave when they think they've discovered weakness."
Silence settled briefly between us.
Then finally, he sighed.
"Be back before twilight."
Relief crossed my face instantly.
"So I can go?"
"I won't be gentle if you disobey me this time."
He said, his tone firm
That alone made my smile widen.
"Yes, Your Grace."
I laughed quietly before finally escaping the room.
Behind me, I heard a long exhale.
Then—
"Troublesome woman."
The door closed before I could tease him about it.
The garden was quiet in a way that didn't feel peaceful.
It felt watched.
I stood near the roses for a moment longer than I should have, letting the morning air settle on my skin. The estate behind me was still awake with life, but here… it was almost too still. Too arranged.
Then—
"I was wondering when you'd finally step out alone."
The voice slid in from behind me like silk over a blade.
I turned slowly.
Lady Matilda.
She stood just a few steps away, as if she had always been part of the garden itself. Her posture was elegant, composed—almost familiar in a way that made something in my chest tighten before I could understand why.
Her smile was soft.
But it didn't reach her eyes.
"So it's true," she said lightly, looking me over as if confirming something she already knew. "You really did leave the South."
I said nothing.
Her gaze flicked past me briefly, scanning the empty garden.
"And your guard?" she asked. "The quiet one. Raphael, was it?"
My fingers stiffened slightly.
That name… felt heavier than it should have.
Matilda's smile widened faintly as she stepped closer.
"Or should I say…" she lowered her voice just enough for only me to hear, "…Duke Draven Everfrost."
The world didn't freeze.
But something inside me did.
I forced my expression to remain steady.
"That's a ridiculous rumor."
"Is it?" she asked softly.
She tilted her head, studying my reaction like a physician studying a wound.
"I saw him at the council hall," she continued. "The way he looked at you when others spoke to you… men don't look like that at their employers."
I took a small step back.
Matilda followed immediately.
Not rushed.
Certain.
Like she already knew where I would go.
"I didn't come here to argue gossip," I said carefully. "If that's all—"
"Oh, it's not gossip," she interrupted gently.
Her voice lowered.
"It's history."
That made me pause.
Matilda stopped walking and reached out, lightly touching a rose beside her. She traced its petals with her fingers, almost lovingly.
Then she plucked it.
Held it up between us.
"It's funny," she murmured. "Roses look beautiful when they're alive."
Her fingers closed.
Slowly.
The petals crumpled.
Crushed.
She let them fall.
"But they're very easy to ruin."
A faint breeze passed through the garden, colder than before.
I didn't like the way she was looking at me now.
Not angry.
Not emotional.
Certain.
Like she had already decided what I was.
"Tell me something," she said.
I didn't answer.
"Do you love him?"
The question hit quieter than expected.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second too long.
"That's not relevant," I said finally.
Matilda smiled.
"That's a yes-or-no question."
I tightened my hands slightly.
"I'm his wife," I said firmly. "My duty is to stand by him."
At that, she laughed softly.
Not amused.
Mocking.
"Duty," she repeated, as if tasting the word. "How noble."
She started walking again.
And somehow—I followed.
I didn't know why.
Maybe curiosity.
Maybe warning.
Maybe something in her tone that felt too controlled to ignore.
We walked deeper into the garden where the paths narrowed and the air became heavier with scent.
Matilda spoke casually, like we were discussing weather.
"Draven and I trained together once," she said. "Long before politics, before titles… before he became something people feared."
I stayed silent.
"We were equal back then," she continued. "Same discipline. Same expectations."
A pause.
"I thought…" her voice softened slightly, "that if I pushed hard enough, he would notice me."
The way she said it wasn't emotional.
It was factual.
Which made it worse.
"He didn't," she added.
Silence stretched.
Then she exhaled slowly.
"And then the North-South divide happened. Everything changed. People changed him."
Her eyes shifted toward me.
"But you…"
Her smile returned.
"You didn't change him."
I frowned slightly.
"I don't know what you're trying to say."
"I'm saying," she replied softly, "you're not the reason he became dangerous."
She stepped closer again.
"And you're definitely not the reason he stayed."
My chest tightened.
"Stop talking," I said quietly.
Matilda didn't.
Instead, she leaned slightly toward me.
"I saw you at the meeting," she whispered. "When Ephraim spoke to you."
My breath slowed.
"The way his control slipped," she continued, "just for a second…"
Her smile sharpened.
"…that wasn't duty."
A cold feeling crawled up my spine.
"That was possession."
I stepped back again.
A pause.
Then she stepped closer.
Slow. Unhurried.
Like she already knew I wouldn't run.
"It was recognition."
My throat tightened.
"I don't know what you're trying to prove," I said carefully.
Matilda tilted her head.
"I'm not proving anything," she replied. "I'm reminding you."
Her gaze flicked over my face—slow, deliberate.
"Draven Everfrost doesn't react to people."
A faint breeze moved through the roses.
"But he reacted to you."
Silence.
The garden suddenly felt smaller.
Heavier.
Matilda's voice dropped lower.
"I've seen him ignore assassinations without blinking. I've seen him watch cities burn without changing expression."
Her eyes lifted back to mine.
"But you—"
A soft, almost amused exhale.
"You make him lose control in a single room full of witnesses."
My fingers curled slightly at my side.
"That's enough," I said, quieter now.
But she didn't stop.