Zavren walked through the hallway, his expression calm, yet his eyes for the first ti—were not. His stare was long yet composed as he finally reached the royal hospital. Just as he arrived, he opened the door, only to see Ariana lying there, her eyes closed.
A drip-like tube was connected to her hand, and the physician was carefully inserting so needles into her, handling them with precise care to inject her properly. She slowly removed one and dropped it calmly atop the stainless tray.
Once she was done, she turned and bowed gently to Zavren.
"Your Highness, your wife’s mood swings have doubled. Considering she’s a human carrying a werewolf child, what a werewolf could normally handle, she cannot. Her fainting was caused by stress. And not to ntion—after drinking the herbal tea, her body seed to reject it. That’s not supposed to happen, which ans she must have been in intense pain sowhere.
But you don’t have to worry—she’ll be alright and should wake up soon, as long as we avoid anything that could hurt her both externally and internally," she explained respectfully, and Zavren nodded curtly.
"I will be taking my leave now, Your Majesty."
She walked out to give them space as she would return once the drip was done, and as the door closed, Zavren moved to the seat near the bed. Just like he had sensed earlier, Ariana had been in the hallway when he entered that room.
She had been there. Not to ntion, when he stepped in, her blood scent had rushed through his nose...that tasty yet forbidden kind of scent—and though it tempted him, he silently brushed it away.
His eyes moved to her face as he gently pushed so strands of hair aside, keeping them from falling over her features, his gaze lingering.
Ti passed, but Zavren remained there, waiting.
And then finally—she moved.
He sensed it.
He sensed her movent.
Ariana’s eyes opened gently as she tried to make out her surroundings. Her head spun lightly, and her vision blurred for a mont before returning to normal. She turned her face..and just as her gaze locked with Zavren’s—she quickly looked away, turning to the other side. That was when she noticed her hand was connected to a drip.
Zavren appeared stunned by her reaction. He hadn’t expected her to turn away like that. It caught him off guard, and he remained frozen in disbelief—more than usual.
"Aria," he called softly, but Ariana refused to look at him. She didn’t know why, but the mont she saw him, pain and anger surged through her.
Zavren was silent, just staring at her turned face.
"Ariana, look at ."
His commanding voice sliced through the air so abruptly that it made her flinch slightly from the intensity. Slowly, she turned her face and stared at him. Zavren noticed the shift in her gaze—how it flickered with annoyance, or maybe sothing deeper. Her eyes told him one thing, she didn’t want to see him.
"If you’re wondering what happened, that door is bound by magic. In order to unlock it, the seer has to cast a spell by speaking to the door." he explained calmly.
Ariana’s heart still ached, but she tried her best to remain calm, locking eyes with Zavren as he continued.
"She’s the only one who can enter there—she’s the only one who can break the spell yo open the door."
Ariana’s heart clenched at his words.
The only one...
She didn’t know why, but hearing Zavren talk about another woman like that made her chest tighten. She bit her lip gently, trying to calm herself.
Earlier, her body had felt light after drinking the herbal tea. If not for Leah, the situation could have been worse. She tried not to think about that as she searched his eyes, a question forming within her.
’Then why didn’t you tell ? Why l..let foolishly think you were the only one allowed in there? What else...what else did you expect to do—smile? To think soone else knows what’s behind that forbidden d..door, seer or not... it hurts. It hurts deeply that the person you call your wife has no idea. So, what if I could open that door—would you let in?’
She said all this to herself, her voice broken even in her own head.
Zavren finally spoke.
"You’re right. Even if you knew how to open that door, I wouldn’t let you go in."
Ariana froze. Her body shook uncontrollably as emotions clashed inside her, but this ti, she wouldn’t cry. She refused to appear weak in front of this man...not now, not ever.
He had heard her—everything. She wanted to be angry but chose instead to give him a piece of her mind. She bit her lower lip harder this ti as if transferring all her anger to it.
"Stop it, Ariana," Zavren said when he noticed how hard she was biting her lip.
Zavren knew she was hurt,the way her soft, small voice sounded so broken, he felt it deeply.
Ariana pulled away, a smile on her lips. She quietly pointed at the door, her face turning serious as her eyes locked with his.
’You’ve said enough today, sweetie... now do a favor...’
Her smile widened again as she added,
’Do a favor and get out.’
Zavren’s body stilled. He hadn’t expected that. In fact, he froze as if trying to process the mont. These were the very words he often used with others—and now, his wife had said them to him. Her gaze was serious, and that told him all he needed to know. His presence was not needed.
He realized the reason he could hear her thoughts was because her emotions were so intense. The mind link only worked when her feelings, anger, sadness, happiness, excitent—ran deep.
"I don’t know what to say."
His cold voice rang through the room, but Ariana only rolled her eyes.
"Ariana, I don’t want you to see what’s behind that door. Let tell you now—death would be better than what’s in there. It would ss with your head dangerously."
His voice turned chilling, and Ariana’s body stiffened with sharp, electric shivers.
"Most of the idiots who tried to enter there lost their minds just by touching the doorknob."
Ariana’s eyes locked onto his. Her body wouldn’t move.
She had touched that doorknob.
So why hadn’t anything happened to her?
She knew Zavren wasn’t lying. It was true—many servants had gone mad just by touching it. No one dared approach that door anymore.
’Maybe the Moon Goddess saved ,’ she wondered.
She now stared directly at him, lips pressed together. She hadn’t realized Zavren’s reasons were about danger. He didn’t want her entering because of what was behind it. Still, her curiosity remained. What could be so dangerous that even her husband feared it for her? Yet the seriousness in his voice told her it was sothing deeply important.
She nodded finally, and Zavren spoke again.
"You’re not drinking that herbal tea anymore," he said with finality, and Ariana nodded, though she was curious why.
"We don’t want anything triggering my wife’s body," he added firmly.
Ariana held back a smile. She hated that drink, but drank it because it was good for her body. Now, hearing Zavren forbid it—he had no idea he had just saved her.
"There will be a royal celebration next week, my wife. A celebration to honor the Great Luna of Eltones."
Ariana’s eyes stretched wide by the sudden news.
Luna celebration? she wondered.
"After the celebration, you’ll beco our official Luna. Not that you aren’t already—you always have been—but that day, you’ll be officially crowned. People will rarely call you ’your grace’ anymore. From then on, they’ll call you Luna."
Ariana nodded, though her heart beat faster. She hadn’t expected a celebration. She smiled gently, her eyes softening.
She raised her other hand and signaled Zavren to co closer, pointing at the hand that had been injected so he could check it.
Zavren nodded and leaned in, examining it seriously—only to be caught off guard as Ariana gently pressed her lips to his cheek. Her face flushed slightly, and she turned away to hide her blush.
Zavren blinked, realizing what had just happened. His smart wife had used the excuse of her hand to steal a kiss.
He chuckled, his deep voice echoing through the room.
"How about kissing the other side my cute kiss stealer?" he teased.
Ariana’s face grew even warr as she nodded, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his other cheek.
anwhile...
"Number 393," a man called out. A frown marred his face, as though irritated by the task he’d been assigned. If anything, he clearly wanted to go ho.
Inside the small building packed with seated people, Mr. Fredrick finally rose and walked toward the man standing on the other side of the room as his number had been called. The man eyed Fredrick’s cap, which was still covered in head despite the heat.
"Annoying tourist," he muttered under his breath.
"Your letter," the man said boredly.
Fredrick silently handed it over. The man stamped sothing on it. Fredrick, who had remained quiet, let a slow smile curl on his lips as his eyes scanned the man. The clerk then turned toward the wall, where a small slot was built in to slide papers. He slid it in.
"Just to confirm... Letter heading to Eltones?" the man asked, glancing at the cap-wearing Fredrick.
The man in the cap nodded.
"And just to confirm, to whom?" the clerk continued.
Fredrick’s lips curled higher as he answered calmly,
"To Lord Zekel."
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