“Elena,” his voice, devoid of any hint of anger, gently called her name, his gaze unwavering.
“Look at me,” he urged, his hand finding its way to the nape of her neck, threading through the damp tendrils of her hair. The chill from her wet clothes seemed to dissipate under the warmth of his touch, a soothing contrast against the icy tendrils of anxiety that coiled within her.
With hesitant reluctance, Elena lifted her eyelids, once more met with the unfiltered view of Kennard’s sturdy frame. Cheeks ablaze, she quickly averted her gaze, only to be caught off guard by his next words,.
“I haven’t any spare clothes tonight. However, if you wish, I could assist you with this robe,” Kennard’s offer, though seemingly innocuous, ignited a fierce blush that spread from her cheeks to every corner of her being.
“No, thank you. I-I’m fine, truly,” Elena stammered, her hands fluttering in surprise as she declined his offer. A subtle curve tugged at the corner of Kennard’s lips, a semblance of a smile that failed to reach his eyes.
“Really? Then hurry back to your bedroom. Not anywhere else, straight to your bedroom. Understand?” Kennard’s tone brooked no argument.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Elena affirmed, her response swift as Kennard withdrew his hands, allowing space between them.
With a gesture, Kennard indicated the direction she should take, his arm extended to the side. Elena offered a respectful nod before hastening down the corridor, footsteps echoing in the silence. The soft shuffle of Cura and the knights trailing behind her barely registered as she focused on her destination, determined not to look back.
“Cura, see to it that Elena has a warm drink,” Kennard’s command rang out behind her.
“At once, Your Grace,” Cura acknowledged promptly, hurrying to join Elena’s side.
“I thought my heart was going to sink,” Cura whispered to Elena, her voice a mere murmur meant only for her ears.
Me too, Elena thought inwardly, quickening her pace.
***
“So, care to explain why you crossed paths with Elena?” Kennard perched on the edge of the bed, one foot planted firmly on the ground, his gaze fixed on Serin, who stood at attention.
“I already told you, it was purely coincidental,” Serin replied, his wrist caught in Kennard’s grip, a faint crease forming on his brow.
“Coincidental? Do you expect me to believe that? Shall I recount how you ended up in a place you had no business being?” Kennard’s frustration simmered beneath the surface, his tone laced with incredulity.
“I was merely passing through…” Serin began, his words trailing off as Kennard’s patience reached its limit.
“Serin Elus!” Kennard’s voice cracked with exasperation, the tension finally breaking.
“Fine, fine. Yes, I intentionally sought her out. Is that why you’re squeezing my wrist like that? Lucky it’s still in one piece,” Serin grumbled, his tone laden with annoyance.
“And here I thought you were about to catch some sleep,” Kennard retorted, a mixture of disbelief and irritation coloring his expression.
Serin shot Kennard an incredulous look, shoulders lifting in a helpless shrug, hands gesturing in a manner that seemed to say, “What else could I do?”
“Even with our naturally high body temperatures, it’s still chilly, and you breeze in like a gust of wind,” Serin remarked with a hint of annoyance.
“Serin!” Kennard’s sharp tone cut through the air, interrupting Serin’s retort.
“You sensed that my pheromones were in the same vicinity as Elena’s,” Serin continued, undeterred by Kennard’s reprimand.
“Enough!” Kennard snapped, his patience wearing thin. The urge to throttle Serin for his impertinence surged within him.
“Are you jealous of me, of all people?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Kennard scoffed, though the idea irked him more than he cared to admit. Serin’s audacity bordered on madness, provoking Kennard’s temper to its breaking point.
“If you persist in spouting nonsense, I might just be inclined to silence you permanently. If you value your life, answer my questions,” Kennard threatened, his voice low and menacing.
“Why do you always antagonize me?” Kennard demanded through gritted teeth, his gaze burning holes into Serin.
As Serin met his gaze and then lowered his arms, a sense of resignation washed over him.
“I merely wished to alleviate Your Grace’s concerns,” Serin offered.
“How does your meddling ease my concerns? And did you say anything untoward to Elena?” Kennard pressed, his patience wearing thin.
“Untoward? Are you referring to the “witch”?” Serin’s words trailed off abruptly, his gaze averting from Kennard’s penetrating stare. The tension in the room thickened as Kennard waited for Serin’s response.
“I didn’t utter anything of the sort,” Serin finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
With a resigned sigh, Kennard rose abruptly from his seat, sending Serin a sharp glance before moving to the nearby table. Retrieving a jewel-adorned box, he selected a vanilla-scented petal with delicate tongs and infused it into a teacup, the rich aroma filling the room as he poured hot water over it.
Kennard took a sip of the fragrant tea before settling back into his chair, his gaze fixed on Serin with unwavering intensity.
“If not that, then why did you seek her out?”
