[redith].
Dennis narrowed his eyes slightly. He knew exactly what I was doing.
"You don’t need ," he said. "Just take my brother."
My shoulders dropped a little. His refusal was firm. Then Randall spoke.
"Dennis," he said, with a cool but persuasive voice, "You should listen to her. You haven’t seen your mother in years. Use this opportunity. Take a look at her."
I glanced at Dennis. He didn’t even flinch at his father’s words. He lifted his glass, took a sip of water, then said flatly:
"You can’t convince otherwise."
And just like that, he returned to his breakfast as if nothing had been said at all. My chest tightened.
I understood him—truly. He didn’t want to walk into that room, see a woman who didn’t know him, and pretend it no longer hurt.
He didn’t want hope, not even a flicker of it, because hope was the thing that disappointed him the most.
Even so, I still wished he would try.
My appetite vanished. I set down my fork and picked up my glass of water instead. The coldness didn’t help.
Draven glanced at . "Eat more."
"I’m alright," I murmured.
He studied for a mont but didn’t press.
Just when I thought the matter was over, Dennis suddenly looked at , then at my barely touched food.
"You haven’t even eaten anything," he said.
I didn’t respond. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation, and certainly not in the mood to emotionally explain myself.
Dennis tilted his head slightly, watching too closely. "Did you lose your appetite simply because I refused to go with you?"
I kept my gaze on my water glass. If I opened my mouth now, I would say sothing selfish—about how this wasn’t for , but for him. And I didn’t want to weaponize my concern.
I expected him to drop this matter, but he didn’t.
"Fine," he said with a small, lopsided smile. "If it will make you happy... I will go with you."
My eyes lifted sharply. A warmth lit in my chest so quickly that my eyes, traitorously, glowed. "Don’t go back on your word," I whispered.
"I wouldn’t dare." He snorted softly. "If I did, my brother would make pay for it."
Draven didn’t deny that.
A quiet chuckle escaped , and I picked up my cutlery again. The food tasted lighter now, easier to eat, though my heart felt heavier knowing exactly what Dennis was walking into, willingly, for my sake.
I hadn’t pushed him for pity. I hadn’t even expected him to bend. But he did. And I was grateful, more than he knew.
After breakfast, Draven and I left the dining hall together. The corridors were quiet, the air warm with morning light, and yet, sothing tugged at .
I finally asked the other question that had been sitting in my chest for a few days now since I didn’t get the chance to ntion it this morning.
"Why hasn’t Xamira joined us at the table since we returned to Stormveil?"
Draven didn’t look surprised at my question. If anything, he simply exhaled slowly.
"I’m protecting her," he said. "This is Stormveil, redith. Our people hate humans, especially with what happened. So, I won’t expose her to that."
I stopped walking. That explanation wasn’t enough for him, not for the man who once looked at and promised he would shield Xamira when we returned to Stormveil.
"Protecting her," I repeated quietly. "You told you could do that. And you have. So why does it suddenly feel like you think you can’t?"
He didn’t answer imdiately. Instead, he reached for my hand and guided toward the small private sitting area near along the hallway. Then he shut the door behind us.
My stomach tightened at his actions. Why did he need privacy?
"What are you hiding?" I asked with a low voice.
Draven didn’t circle around the truth like I thought he would. He went straight to the point.
"The reason Xamira’s nanny was changed..." he said quietly, "is because the previous one died."
Instantly, my breath caught in my throat. "What?"
"She died, redith," he repeated.
I stared at him, my pulse thundering. "How? When?" And why didn’t I know about it?
Draven looked at the floor for a mont before eting my eyes. He must have seen the invincible question marks on my head and explained, "I was trying to protect your emotions for the ti being, hence the reason I put off informing you."
I didn’t utter a word. I just continued to gaze at him, so he sighed.
"It happened on the evening of the welco banquet. Just before the guests arrived," he stated, answering my question.
My heart sank. The banquet was only a few days ago, and the sa day we returned to Stormveil.
"And the cause?" I pushed.
"She fell from the balcony," he said. "It was a fatal fall, and because she was a human, she didn’t survive."
I blinked.
A fall?
Off a balcony?
My mind spun with too many questions at once.
Was it an accident? Was it sothing else? Why would a nanny fall off a balcony?
And for the first ti, I understood why Draven’s voice earlier had held a strain I couldn’t na.
This wasn’t just about protecting Xamira. This was about danger, a real one. And soone already dying under this roof.
"At this point," I murmured, "this is... rare. Too rare. Adults don’t simply fall off balconies. Sothing about this isn’t ordinary."
Draven didn’t argue. He nodded, jaw tightening.
"That was my thought too." He crossed his arms over his chest. "According to the autopsy which I personally verified, she didn’t scream, not even once. And there were no signs of physical restraint, no bruises, nothing to indicate she fought back."
A chill crawled up my spine.
I stared at Draven, trying to process everything all at once.
A grown woman falling off a balcony without trauma marks, without a struggle, without a scream... It made no sense.
"So... this fits suicide," I whispered.
"Except it’s not." His voice hardened. "The only ones in that room were her and Xamira."
My breath hitched. ’Xamira.’
"Did... did she see it happen?" I asked, my heart twisting in folds.
Draven shook his head. "She told that her nanny was on the balcony when she went to the bathroom. Then when she ca out, her nanny was gone. She didn’t see or hear anything—not even the fall."
A knot ford in my stomach. "So soone else could have entered the room while she was gone," I said.
"I thought that too," Draven replied. "But then again, there was no scream. If soone attacked her, she would have cried for help, even Xamira could have heard it. Rember, Humans scream even from instinct. But she didn’t."
I frowned deeply. Unless...
"Except," I said slowly, the idea forming like fog, "she saw or experienced sothing so frightening that even if she slipped, even while falling to her death... she couldn’t make a sound."
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