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Chapter 47
~Spring’s POV~
School was eventful and all, but having to co back ho and see Rose every day wasn’t sothing I looked forward to.
I had thought, more than once, of asking my parents or my brothers to let beco a boarding student in Noxshade, rather than a day student.
A fresh start, less tension at ho and more in school. But I kicked against the idea. Now wasn’t the ti.
If it had been back then, when they didn’t love , when I was just a shadow in the corners of this house, then yeah, sure. They’d have happily sent off, no second thoughts.
But now? Things were different. They cared. Or at least, they tried to. And Rose—ugh. Rose would try to act sweet and supportive to my parents, all while doing everything possible to keep close... so she could make life miserable for behind closed doors.
Rose will always be a rose, like the flower full of thorns. A na that promised beauty but always left scratches.
My shoulders slumped as I passed the kitchen. The maids were quietly at work, chopping, cleaning, and moving about. But when they noticed , their movents slowed, eyes lifting with that all-too-familiar look.
Pity.
Every one of them bowed their heads slightly in respect and I offered them a small smile.
They must have thought I was prohibited from using the front entrance or sothing. But no—I just wanted to avoid trouble.
Especially her.
I reached for a bottle of cold water from the fridge, eager to escape, when the head maid’s voice stopped mid-step.
"Young Miss."
I turned, a little startled. "Yes?"
She hurried over with a soft smile, holding out a bowl. "Here, so fruits to help your stomach and improve your health before lunch is served."
My lips pulled into a side smile. It was thoughtful. She didn’t have to.
"Thank you," I said, taking the bowl. It was filled with fresh apples, pogranates, cherries, berries, and grapes—perfectly washed and glistening.
"Please enjoy, you always loved fruits before your lunch. It’s a sha you stopped before because Miss Rose claid she wanted all the fruits for her friends."
I couldn’t help the soft scoff that escaped my lips. That bitch.
"You stopped requesting them after that."
"Aren’t you scared now she would react?" My gaze darted around and they all had the sa angry expression.
"No. I’ll inform her that it got spoiled. She mostly wastes them anyway."
My smile brightened. "Sure. Good work, everyone," I added politely.
"Thank you, Miss," they chorused in unison.
That was my cue to leave.
Ever since my birthday, I hadn’t unwrapped a few of the gifts still sitting on my table. I’d been too tired from school and too emotionally drained.
Once ho, I made a beeline for my room. I needed to freshen up. Maybe take a nap. Or journal. Anything to stay sane.
A small part of still ached to see Eryx. To apologise for my tone the other day, for the words I’d said in anger—even if he’d earned every single one of them.
Still... two wrongs never made a right, that’s what my mum always taught in my past life.
When I reached my door, I paused. My gaze flicked to the side, where Rose’s room was tucked neatly at the end of the hall.
Probably out. Or worse, playing sweet daughter in the parlour with mum, clinging to every fake laugh like it was real.
I rolled my eyes, inserted my keycard, and stepped inside my room without much thought. The mont the door shut behind , I turned—then froze.
My heart leapt to my throat.
I stumbled back slightly, eyes going wide. A few grapes tumbled from the bowl I held, but I barely noticed.
Because there, lying peacefully on my bed, was Eryx.
Sleeping.
Curled up like a giant, overgrown cat, his chest rising and falling softly.
My instincts scread trouble, trouble, but I couldn’t look away. Especially not when I saw what he was clutching.
A soft blue teddy bear. Not too big. Not too small. Just enough to fit comfortably in his arms.
I took a step closer, curiosity and confusion tugging at my emotions.
And then I saw the stitched lettering across the teddy bear’s belly.
"My Spring."
I almost choked.
My first thought was, ’Is Eryx having a sister complex?’
No. No, no. It couldn’t be that. Could it?
I shook the thought away, lips pressing into a line. Gently, I placed the bowl of fruit on my reading table and slipped the bottle of water out of it. Then, I shrugged off my bag and set it on the chair.
As I turned back to Eryx, I noticed how tightly he had curled up. It wasn’t just rest—it was the posture of soone seeking comfort, warmth or safety.
He looked... vulnerable.
Without thinking, I reached for the duvet at the foot of the bed and gently pulled it over him.
Only then did I notice the small card slip from his jacket pocket. It fluttered to the floor.
I bent to pick it up and blinked when I saw what it was.
A master keycard.
"Figures," I muttered under my breath.
Of course, he’d find a way into my room. No boundary existed between us when he was determined.
As I looked down at him again, a fresh wave of mory crashed into .
mories of when I was ten—how I’d sneak into his room on stormy nights, crawling into his bed because it felt safer beside him. And sotis, he’d beat to it, curling beside in the middle of the night like a silent guardian.
We’d cuddle under the blankets. He’d ruffle my hair and call his little storm, his Spring.
I’d steal his sweaters and hide in his bed when nightmares ca if he wasn’t ho. At tis, Eryx would call at night till I fell asleep to his voice on those nights.
Those nights felt like magic, like ho.
Eryx was the one person in the world who saw . Perhaps because he was my imdiate elder brother, but we shared a truly deep connection.
Then Rose ca, and everything changed.
I turned away, throat tightening. I didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not in front of him, even if he was asleep.
Just as I reached for my bag to leave, a sudden tug pulled backwards.
"Wha—!"
I barely had ti to react before I was yanked down onto the bed.
The mattress dipped beneath , and a second later, I was enveloped by warmth.
Eryx.
He wrapped himself around like he used to—his chest firm and warm against my back, arms locked gently but securely around my waist.
He buried his face in my hair, and a shiver travelled down my spine as he inhaled deeply.
Then, in a whisper so low it made my breath catch, he murmured,
"Welco ho, Spring."
My heart skipped. Skipped again.
I blinked, wide-eyed, frozen in place as the scent of his cologne filled my lungs—familiar and far too comforting.
I started to shift, to pull away, but his grip only tightened slightly, grounding .
"I’m sorry," he said softly, voice tinged with sothing I hadn’t heard from him in a while. Regret. Real, heavy, honest regret.
"For all my wrongs. Please... forgive ."
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