Elara sat at the edge of the bed; her eyes fixed on the nightstand where the medication Riven had bought the night before sat waiting. She had just finished getting ready, the soft fabric of her earth-toned dress—a memory of a shopping trip with Mina—brushing against her skin. Carefully, she began applying the gel to the injuries caused by her own recklessness.
A soft knock broke her concentration.
"Come in," she said, knowing it could only be Riven or Lucas.
The door opened to reveal Lucas. As usual, his face was an unreadable mask; he was a master at burying whatever he felt beneath the surface. Elara felt a flutter in her chest as she remembered last night—how he hadn't hesitated to tie the ribbon of her dress. She appreciated it more than she could say, though her inner self laughed at the urge to assume it meant something more.
Lucas approached, looking sharp in a dark suit for the 8:00 AM meeting they had scheduled. They had both risen early to prepare for the day’s heat in the Lion City.
"Do you need help?" Lucas asked, his gaze dropping to her injured arm.
She shook her head, stubbornly trying to continue with her left hand. But a moment later, a warm hand gently touched her forearm, easing it down.
"Let me," he murmured, taking the tube of medicine from her. "Face me."
His voice was soft, and she found herself obeying without a word. They sat together on the edge of the bed. The distance between them was physically almost non-existent, yet emotionally, it felt like a canyon.
Lucas is truly a good man, she thought, unable to look away. Kael is so lucky to have him.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize she was staring intently until Lucas caught her gaze. A flicker of worry crossed his face.
"Is something wrong? Am I pressing too hard?"
Snapping back to reality, Elara shook her head quickly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"Oh, no! Not at all. I was just... thinking about how grateful I am. For last night, and for you helping me with this now."
Lucas offered a small smile and shook his head. "It’s nothing. You should get used to it."
You should get used to it. The words echoed in her mind, stinging more than the injury on her arm. She knew what he meant. They were bound by the Crimson-Gold seal—a metaphysical chain that dictated their proximity. As long as the seal existed, he would always be there. He was essentially a prisoner of her safety.
She looked at him, searching for any sign of resentment, but found only focused care. She was painfully aware that if it weren't for the seal, he might not be here at all. He wasn't "okay" with this arrangement, yet here he was—protecting her, helping her, and touching her with a gentleness that didn't feel like a chore.
That was the problem. If he were mean or cold, she could hate the situation. But because he was a good man—the kind of man who would step up regardless of the magic binding them—it made it impossible for her to stay guarded.
He’s doing his duty, she reminded herself.
He returned to the task, his movements incredibly light and deliberate as he spread the gel. The warmth of his fingertips against her skin was soothing, casting a strange sense of calm over her. She stole another glance at him. Whenever he was near, she felt an overwhelming sense of safety.
In that moment, a quiet realization hit her: even if he never reciprocated her feelings, she was still thankful. Out of the millions of people in the world, he was the one who had hidden her away that night in China. He didn't owe her his heart, and she was beginning to find peace with that. A small, bittersweet smile touched her lips.
"Elara, maybe you shouldn't come," Lucas said, finally lowering her arm.
"You'll be uncomfortable, and I'm worried the swelling will get worse."
"You already said that the moment I woke up today," she countered softly.
"What would I even do here? I'll be very careful, I promise."
Lucas let out a resigned sigh and shook his head, a ghost of a smile appearing.
"You win. Okay."
He stood up, adjusting his suit jacket. "Let’s go. Riven is waiting for us."
Without another word, he turned and led the way out of the room, leaving the lingering scent of the medicine and the echo of his touch behind.