Lassino glanced down at her, an amused smile spreading across his lips.
“I disagree.”
“Pardon?” Elena blinked, startled. “Disagree about what…?”
Tilting her head in confusion, she watched as Lassino clasped his impeccably gloved hands behind his back. His demeanor was calm, yet his words carried weight.
“Quite the opposite, actually,” he said, his voice softening. “I find it calming.”
“Calming?” Elena echoed, her brows furrowing. “How is that possible? Is it because you’ve spent so much time by His Grace’s side?”
“That’s part of it,” Lassino admitted, his expression shifting as his gaze turned distant, as though peering into the past. “But there’s more to it than that.”
He paused for a moment, his voice quieter when he continued. “His Grace wasn’t always this way. In fact, he used to be cheerful and full of life.”
Elena froze, struggling to reconcile the image in her mind. Kennard—cheerful? She couldn’t imagine it.
Try as she might, her memories only offered her the stoic and unyielding man she knew. And yet, for a fleeting second, an image flickered in her mind—a vision of Kennard with a bright, genuine smile. She could almost hear the low, resonant sound of his laughter, warm and unguarded.
But the image rippled like water disturbed by a stone, fading just as quickly as it had appeared.
Elena frowned, unsettled. It felt so distant, so unreal, yet inexplicably familiar, like a memory buried deep in her subconscious.
“For reasons unknown, he completely changed a few years ago,” Lassino continued, his voice quiet but steady, drawing Elena from her thoughts.
“He started waging wars, expanding the territory as if driven by a bloodthirsty rage. Even his very nature seemed to shift entirely.”
Elena bit her lower lip, her fingers tightening slightly around the shawl draped over her shoulders. It wasn’t difficult to envision Kennard as he was now—cold, calculating, and relentless. The image of the bright, cheerful man Lassino had described felt so distant, it was almost unimaginable. The contrast was heartbreaking.
“Do you have any idea what might have caused it?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lassino shook his head, his expression thoughtful. “No, none. I doubt even Sir Serin knows. Perhaps that’s why, when I see His Grace and Sir Serin bickering like this, it puts me at ease. It reminds me, faintly, of how His Grace used to be.”
Lassino’s calm, wistful smile warmed Elena’s heart, a comfort that surpassed even the tea she had just sipped. Yet, as warmth settled over her, so too did a tight ache in her chest.
What could have happened to Kennard to change him so drastically? Could he ever smile as he once did? And—her thoughts trembled at the audacity—could she be the one to bring that smile back to his face?
Her gaze lingered on Kennard’s broad back, tense and resolute as he held his fishing rod. Her vision blurred unexpectedly. Elena realized tears were welling in her eyes and quickly brushed them away with the back of her hand.
“Don’t you want to fish, my lady?” Lassino asked gently, his tone lightening, as though trying to lift the heavy atmosphere.
Elena offered a faint smile, her voice tinged with forced cheerfulness. “His Grace said the rock would be too cold for me, so he told me to stay here.”
Before Lassino could reply, a sharp, piercing whinny split the air.
Startled, Elena turned toward the sound. The horses tied to a nearby tree were rearing and stomping, their nervous snorts cutting through the stillness. Their wide, rolling eyes glimmered with panic as they tugged against their restraints.
A chill ran down her spine. Beyond the restless animals, something massive and dark moved within the dense grove of trees.
Then it emerged—a hulking, shadowy figure, its sheer size and heavy gait unmistakable.
“Your Grace, it’s a bear!” Lassino’s voice rang out, urgent and clear.
The knights standing guard didn’t hesitate. Swords were drawn in an instant, the metallic ring of blades slicing through the tense air. They stepped forward, their stances firm, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.
Cura and the attendants, frozen mid-motion amidst their tea preparations, stood paralyzed with fear. Not a single one dared to move as the massive bear emerged.
Lassino was the first to act, stepping in front of Elena with practiced precision, his body shielding her from the beast’s view.
Beside him, Serin transformed without hesitation. His human form melted away, replaced by the lithe, powerful frame of a silver-furred wolf. With a low growl rumbling from his throat, he positioned himself protectively at Elena’s side.
Suddenly, something darted past the narrow gap between Lassino and Serin. A blur of motion.
It was Kennard.
Elena gasped, instinctively springing to her feet.
“Kennard!” she cried, her voice trembling.
In her haste, she stumbled on the hem of her dress, nearly losing her balance. Her hands shot out to steady herself, but her eyes remained fixed on him.
Kennard moved swiftly, already several strides ahead, his powerful frame cutting through the clearing like a bolt of dark lightning. Before her eyes, his body began to shift.
The transformation was brutal and visceral. Bones twisted unnaturally, cracking with audible snaps. His spine arched, jutting out grotesquely before his body was cloaked in sleek, jet-black fur. In moments, he was no longer a man but a massive wolf, larger and more fearsome than any natural predator.
With a thunderous leap, Kennard vaulted over the knights and panicked horses, his powerful paws barely grazing the ground before he lunged directly at the bear.
The forest erupted into chaos. Birds burst from the trees in panicked flocks, their startled cries filling the air. The dense woods groaned and splintered as branches snapped under the weight and ferocity of the clashing beasts.
Savage roars and guttural howls echoed in an unrelenting cacophony. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood carried on the wind, sharp and suffocating.
Elena’s heart raced painfully in her chest as she watched the terrifying scene unfold. She was certain—absolutely certain—that Kennard was stronger than the bear. She could feel it in her very bones, an unshakable conviction.
And yet, fear clawed at her, sharp and relentless. What if he got hurt? The mere thought sent a wave of cold dread crashing over her.
“Your Grace…” she murmured, her voice trembling with worry.
She took an unconscious step forward, only to have Serin block her path. His silver eyes, glowing faintly in his wolf form, remained fixed on the forest.
“Don’t move,” he said firmly, his voice low and gruff. “There’s nothing you can do to help. You’d only get in the way.”
Elena’s lips parted as if to argue, but the truth of his words stilled her. Her shoulders sagged, her hands clasping tightly together.
She could only watch, her gaze locked on the forest where the monstrous sounds of the battle continued to rage. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each second dragging unbearably slowly as her heart burned with worry.
