Silence filled Iryna’s chamber after a long night of fear and uncertainty.

Marielle slowly opened her eyes and a sharp ache radiating straight down her neck. She winced, rubbing the stiffness from her joints as she realized she had accidentally fallen asleep while sitting in the plush armchair right beside the bed. The room was dim, the early morning light just beginning to crack through the heavy curtains.

Marielle let out a quiet, raspy breath, shaking her head to clear the remaining fog of sleep from her brain. But as her vision focused in the dim light, she froze entirely.

Iryna was already awake.

The Solaric Princess was lying perfectly still against the mountain of white pillows, her eyes wide open, staring blankly up at the golden embroidery of the bed canopy. The deathly, ash-gray pallor that had threatened to consume her the night before was completely gone, replaced by a faint, healthy flush along her cheekbones.

Marielle quickly stood up, the legs of her chair scraping softly against the rug. She stepped closer to the edge of the bed, her voice dropping into a hushed, unusually tense whisper. "You’re awake. How... how do you feel?"

Iryna turned her head slowly, her eyes focusing on Marielle’s disheveled appearance. A faint smile touched her lips, though her voice was barely a raspy whisper when she spoke. "Like I was dragged through the underworld and thrown back into the sun. Honestly... when the darkness took me last night, I initially thought I was going to die."

Marielle let out a soft, weary breath, the heavy knot of anxiety that had been twisting her stomach since the banquet finally loosening just a fraction. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, forcing her usual sharp, unbothered demeanor back into place. "Well, you almost did. The poison was incredibly nasty. But it seems god still wants you to be here to cause trouble, so don’t go throwing a funeral just yet."

Iryna let out a tiny, weak huff that was supposed to be a laugh, but the movement caused her to wince. She looked around the cavernous, quiet room, her brow furrowing slightly. "Where is... my brother?"

"Your brother is alive and well," Marielle reassured her, stepping closer to adjust the heavy blanket around Iryna’s shoulders before glancing around the room. "I suppose he’s out taking care of a few urgent matters."

Iryna closed her eyes for a brief second, absorbing the information. When she opened them again, her gaze was sharper. "What exactly happened after I fainted? I remember the glass... tasting something sweet... and then nothing but burning."

Marielle’s expression turned solemn. "After you fainted, everyone was in an absolute uproar. The banquet turned into complete chaos. The court mages and the royal physician were brought in, but they just threw their hands up in despair. We all thought we were going to lose you. But against all odds... you’re safe now. The danger has completely passed."

Iryna opened her mouth, intending to ask more, but a sudden, harsh cough cut her off.

Seeing her struggle, Marielle didn’t hesitate. She immediately stepped over to the side table, poured a fresh glass of water, and sat down on the very edge of the mattress. Carefully, she slid one hand behind Iryna’s neck, gently raising her head off the pillows, while her other hand guided the rim of the glass to the princess’s lips.

"Slowly," Marielle murmured, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Drink."

Iryna leaned into the support, sipping the water greedily. As she drank, the distance between them vanished. Their eyes locked over the rim of the crystal glass. Up close, Iryna could see Marielle’s eyes.

When the glass was empty, Marielle carefully lowered Iryna’s head back onto the pillows. She pulled her hands back quickly, almost as if she had been burned, and set the glass down on the table with a sharp click. They both awkwardly snapped their gazes apart, the silence in the room suddenly feeling incredibly heavy and charged.

Iryna looked toward the window, a soft, almost teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she broke the quiet. "Have you... been here the entire time, Marielle?"

Marielle shifted her weight uneasily, her arms snapping back across her chest in a defensive posture. She looked anywhere but at the bed. "Yeah. I was. Gillian needed someone he could actually trust, and I didn’t want anyone slipping back in here to finish the job while you were unconscious."

Iryna’s smile widened just a fraction, a warm, genuine glow lighting up her dark eyes. She turned her head back to face the flustered woman. "Oh... so you do care about me, after all."

"Don’t flatter yourself, Princess," Marielle scoffed loudly, her cheeks warming slightly as she tried to play it cool. "I just didn’t want a diplomatic war breaking out on our watch. It would make my job a logistical nightmare."

Iryna didn’t push the teasing any further. Instead, she just watched Marielle with a quiet, profound gratitude that made Marielle’s chest feel strangely tight.

Before the silence could deepen into something neither of them knew how to handle, the doors of the chamber suddenly swung open with a sharp click.

Gillian stepped into the room, his eyes instantly tracking toward the bed.

Marielle practically jumped out of her skin, her heels skidding slightly against the rug as she bounded away from the mattress. Desperate to escape the sudden wave of intense embarrassment, she didn’t even let Gillian speak.

"Your brother is here!" Marielle loudly blurted out, her voice a pitch higher than usual as she gestured wildly toward the door. "And you’re awake, and clearly functional enough to talk back, so my job here is officially done. I can go now!"

Gillian blinked, thoroughly confused as Marielle practically sprinted past him, her shoulder brushing his armor as she breezed through the doorway without looking back. He stared after her for a second before turning to his sister. "What was that about?"

Iryna simply leaned back against her pillows, a soft, amused chuckle escaping her throat. "Nothing, brother. Just a very stubborn warrior."

Meanwhile, Marielle practically marched down the grand corridor. She didn’t stop until she was several halls away from the royal wing, her heart hammering violently against her ribs. She raised a trembling hand, rapidly tapping her own chest in a desperate bid to calm her wildly racing pulse.

Get a grip, she scolded herself, her face still burning. You’re a warrior of the North. Why the hell are you acting like a flustered academy girl?