Mathis leans closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Look, I’m just saying, I saw him before dinner, and he was one snarl away from ripping someone’s head off. It’s been a hard few days for him. When you were pushed to burn out? That messed him up. He feels responsible too.”
I scoff. “He has a funny way of showing concern.”
Mathis sighs but gives me a crooked smile. “He’s not exactly subtle, our prince. He’s been through a lot in his life. It’s not easy, being Rylan. And protecting the people he cares about? That’s both his way of keeping himself from falling apart and the one thing that could destroy him if he fails.”
The weight in his words makes me pause. “Anything in particular you want to tell me about?”
He just gives me a soft smile. “Not my story to tell. Well, not entirely. It happened a long time ago, and… it changed us all. So, please, for me. Just... rein in the anger a bit. He’s doing the best he can to relinquish the control when it comes to you, even if sometimes it comes across like a drakor with a sore throat.”
I huff a laugh. It’s hard to stay mad at the charmingcaptain.
He nods to the posted guard, and opens the door to Rylan’s wing and steps aside to let me through. “Now, get some rest. Gotta look sharp if you’re going to keep up this adorable rage troll you’re intent on going with.”
“Adorable?” I echo, raising a brow.
He nods seriously. “Yes. Adorablyterrifying.”
“That’s more like it! ”
We’re still laughing, flinging good natured insults at each other as we reach my door, only to find Rylan waiting, leaning against his door frame, arms folded, brows so furrowed that they’re practically meeting in the middle of his forehead. He looks like a perfect storm about to break. His expression dark, dangerous.
"I would’ve walked you back myself," Rylan says, his eyes narrowing on Mathis. "But you disappeared after dinner."
Mathis straightens, throwing a quick, playful grin my way before offering Rylan a respectful nod. "It was my pleasure to accompany her." Rylan doesn’t respond, but the tension in the air thickens. Mathis clears his throat and steps back, excusing himself with a half-bow. “Remember what I said,” he whispers to me with a wink before disappearing down the hall.
I stand back, crossing my arms, mirroring his stance, waiting for Rylan to speak.
"You all settled?" he finally asks, gesturing toward my room with a tilt of his head.
"More or less."
His jaw tightens. "I moved you here for your safety. To make sure you're under my care."
"You could’ve asked, Rylan," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “That’s all it would’ve taken.”
"In my position, sometimes, I don’t have the luxury of asking," he replies, his gaze heavy on mine. "And I refuse tofind you limp and broken on the ground ever again, Eirabella. So, I didn’t ask."
Frustration bubbles to the surface. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing. But you have to know you can’t just make decisions for me like this. I was building a life, a routine, with Brienne, finally making friends in the disciple’s quarters. And you—” I pause, inhaling sharply. “You pulled it all out from under me without so much as a word. You know how I feel about feeling like I don’t have control of my own life.”
He steps closer, closing the space between us. "And you have to know, if there’s something I can do to keep you safe, I’ll do it a thousand times over." His voice drops, low and earnest. "There’s nothing else to it."
I don’t mean to say it, but the words escape before I can stop them. "I’m not your past, Rylan. You can’t use me to fix old mistakes."
His expression falters for a split second—hurt, surprise, regret, all flickering across his face. Then the mask slips back into place. "You don't understand," he murmurs, almost to himself.
"Then tell me. Explain it to me!" I take a step forward, holding his gaze. "We’re friends, aren’t we? Tell me what happened. Maybe I can help you understand, you don’t need to be so in control all the time. Tell me what affected you so deeply that you think this is the only way to solve your problems.”
But he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word. His throat works around a reply, but after a long silence, all he says is, “I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”
I give him a soft, sad smile. “And what I’m trying to tell you, is that what you’re doing, is worse than any hurt that you’ve imagined.” Before I can stop myself, I rise up on my tiptoes andpress a kiss to his cheek and whisper, “I’m sorry about whatever happened to you, Rylan. For whatever has hurt you so deeply.”
When I pull away, his eyes flare like he wants to spill everything, but then he just nods, hands flexing at his sides. I take what feels like a short moment of truce between us to ask him what I’ve been wondering about for a few days. “Rylan, what happened to Master Kaelen? I heard he’s left the castle.”
His face blanks strangely. “He has.”
“Why?”
“Apparently he was having breathing problems here.”
