The footsteps stopped just outside. My hands trembled as I stared at the door, the broken charcoal forgotten. In that moment, I became acutely aware of my own breathing, too loud, too fast. Should I hide? Call out? The knights were supposed to be guarding me, but I hadn't heard their familiar voices greeting whoever stood outside.

  I rose slowly from the bed, bare feet silent against the worn floorboards. The distance to the door stretched like an eternity, each step a battle between hope and terror.

  Then, a gentle knock. Three soft taps that somehow carried more weight than the loudest pounding.

  My voice failed me at first, trapped behind years of learned silence. Finally, barely above a whisper, I managed: "Yes?"

  The door creaked open, and there he stood.

  Zane.

  The breath I'd been holding escaped in a rush. He filled the doorframe with a presence that hadn't been there before, something steadier, more grounded. The pain that had etched lines around his eyes when I'd first met him had softened. Not gone, but transformed into something else. Something that spoke of purpose rather than mere survival.

  I hadn't truly looked at him before, not properly. In the auction house, he'd been just another masked figure. In our brief time together afterward, I'd been too consumed by fear and exhaustion to notice details. But now...

  His dark eyes caught the afternoon light, revealing depths that seemed to absorb rather than reflect. Strong features framed by that unruly black hair that fell just past his ears. There was a quiet intensity to him, a contained power that hadn't been so evident before.

  "You're back," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

  Something in his expression shifted, surprise, perhaps, that I'd spoken first. Then the corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile that transformed his entire face.

  "I told you I would be."

  Such simple words, yet they carried the weight of a promise kept. How rare those were in my world.

  He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The room, which had felt spacious in my solitude, suddenly seemed smaller with his presence. Not in a suffocating way, but as if the walls themselves acknowledged his return.

  "You look..." he paused, his gaze taking me in with an intensity that made something flutter in my chest. "Different."

  I glanced down at myself, suddenly self-conscious. The innkeeper's wife had brought me clean clothes, simple but well-made. My hair, once matted and dull, now fell in soft waves past my shoulders. The regular meals, despite what the server had said, had begun to fill out the hollows in my cheeks.

  "So do you," I replied softly.

  The silence that followed wasn't empty but filled with unspoken questions. Where had he been? Why had he come back? What happened now?

  I gestured awkwardly to the chair by the window. "Would you like to sit?"

  (Zane's POV)

  I watched Seraphina move across the room. Gone was the hunched posture of someone expecting a blow, the careful shuffle of feet accustomed to chains. In their place was a tentative elegance, like a bird testing newly healed wings.

  Two weeks had changed her more than I'd expected. Her face had lost that haunting gauntness, cheeks filling with subtle color. The dull film that had clouded her blue eyes had cleared, revealing a depth and intelligence I'd only glimpsed before. Her dark hair, no longer lifeless, caught the light streaming through the window.

  She was beautiful. Like something precious that had been buried and somehow found its way back to the surface.

  "You've been taking care of yourself," I said, settling into the offered chair. "It suits you."

  Her ears turned slightly red at the comment, and she ducked her head, one hand unconsciously brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was so ordinary, so human, it caught me off guard. This wasn't the hollow-eyed woman I'd rescued, this was someone gradually remembering how to exist in the world again.

  "The innkeeper's wife has been kind," she replied, perching on the edge of the bed across from me. "She brings extra food sometimes. And books."

  I noticed the worn volume on her nightstand, pages marked with scraps of fabric. "You like to read?"

  "I'd forgotten how much." A small smile touched her lips, transforming her face. "Before... everything... I used to read whatever I could find. My father had a small collection of histories."

  The mention of her past—freely offered—felt significant. Like being handed something fragile and immeasurably valuable.

  "I'm sorry I was gone so long," I said, leaning forward. "I didn't plan to be."

  Seraphina's gaze met mine, steady and searching. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  "Not exactly." I flexed my left hand, where the corruption still pulsed beneath the skin, though less violently than before. "But I learned how to manage this better. How to control it instead of letting it control me."

  Her eyes dropped to my arm, and I saw recognition flicker across her face. "The corruption—it's changed."

  "You have a good eye." I rolled up my sleeve slightly, revealing the faint purple veins that now barely reached past my wrist. "It's still there, but contained. For now."

  "How?"

  I hesitated, unsure how much to share. But something about her direct gaze made me want to offer honesty in return.

  "Training. Learning to understand it rather than fight it." I paused, then added, "And help from someone who knows more about this than either of us."

  Seraphina nodded, absorbing this information with quiet intensity. The silence between us stretched, not uncomfortable but full of unspoken questions.

  "What happens now?" she finally asked, her voice soft but steady.

  It was the question I'd been turning over in my mind the entire journey back. What did happen now? I had my path forward, the Academy, Cael's mysterious agenda, my own search for answers about the corruption and the system. But Seraphina... where did she fit?

  "That depends," I said carefully. "On what you want."

  Her expression flickered with something—surprise, perhaps—as if the concept of having choices was still foreign to her. I couldn't blame her. After years in chains, how does someone suddenly remember how to make decisions again?

  I leaned back in the chair, choosing my next words carefully. The truth was, I'd spent most of the journey back contemplating what to do about Seraphina. She wasn't just some responsibility I could shuffle off to someone else. Not after what I'd seen in her eyes that first night, that tiny spark fighting to stay alive in a world that had tried to snuff it out.

  If she wanted freedom, I'd give it to her. Get her settled somewhere safe, make sure she had enough money to start over, maybe find her work with someone trustworthy. The innkeeper's wife seemed fond of her already. It wouldn't be hard to arrange, and she deserved that chance, to reclaim the life that had been stolen from her.

  But if she wanted to stay...

  That was trickier. The Academy wasn't exactly built for tag-alongs. Every entrance, every corridor would be watched, monitored for those who didn't belong. Unless...

  "Wealthy students at the Academy often bring personal attendants," Cael had mentioned during our journey back. "Servants, valets, the occasional bodyguard. It's an expected privilege of station. No one questions it."

  At the time, I'd dismissed it as useless information. Now it felt like the key that could unlock a door I hadn't even realized existed.

  "I have two offers for you," I said, meeting her gaze directly. "First, if you want your freedom, it's yours. I can arrange for you to stay here, or find somewhere else if you prefer. You'd have money, protection until you're settled. A chance to build whatever life you want."

  She listened intently, her face unreadable.

  "Or," I continued, "you can come with me."

  Her eyes widened slightly.

  "I'm leaving for the Academy soon. It's in the Noble District of Vaeloria. Students of certain standing are permitted to bring personal attendants." I watched her carefully. "You could come as my maid."

  The word felt strange on my tongue. Not because of the role itself, but because of what it concealed.

  "It would just be a cover," I added quickly. "A way to keep you close without raising questions. But the choice is entirely yours."

  For several heartbeats, she said nothing, just studied me with those increasingly clear blue eyes. I couldn't read what was happening behind them, what war of fear against hope might be raging there.

  When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet but steady. "You saved me when no one else would." She glanced down at her hands, then back up with surprising resolve. "This new life I have... I owe it to you."

  Something twisted in my chest. "You don't owe me anything."

  "Maybe not," she conceded. "But I'd still like to follow you, if you'll have me."

  I hadn't expected that. Not really. Part of me had assumed she'd grab her freedom with both hands and run as far from Vaeloria as possible. Who wouldn't?

  Haha, she is cute.

  I kept my face neutral, hiding my surprise. "You're sure?"

  She nodded, a small smile touching her lips. "I'm sure."

  "It won't be easy," I warned. "The Academy isn't a forgiving place. There are rules, expectations. If you're going to be believable as a personal attendant, you'll need to learn the customs, the etiquette. How to address different ranks, how to blend in without being noticed." I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "We'd both be in trouble if someone realized you weren't properly trained."

  "I can learn." There was quiet determination in her voice. "I'm a quick study."

  "I'm sure you are," I smiled slightly. "We have a few days before we leave. That should be enough time to cover the basics."

  "Where exactly are we going?" she asked. "What is this Academy?"

  I hesitated, weighing how much to share. "It's a place where people learn nearly everything about this world. I'll be studying there, officially, at least." It wasn't a lie, just not the entire truth. "The rest is... complicated."

  She accepted this with a small nod, asking no further questions.

  Human who stumbles through darkness alone will grasp any hand extended in kindness, even if that hand leads to more shadows. But Seraphina wasn't just accepting blindly, there was choice in her eyes now. A different kind of strength forming in the cracks of what had been broken.

  "When do we begin?" she asked.

  "We begin tomorrow," I said, rising from the chair. "Tonight, I need to speak with the innkeeper."

  I found Mrs. Helvina downstairs, her broad frame moving efficiently behind the bar. She looked up as I approached, recognition lighting her weathered face.

  "Master Zane, back at last. The girl's been no trouble."

  "I wanted to thank you for looking after her," I said, lowering my voice. "And to ask another favor. She'll be coming with me in a few days, but until then, could you teach her some basics of service? Proper etiquette, how to address nobility, that sort of thing?"

  Helvina's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Figured you might ask something like that. Don't worry, I served in a noble house for twenty years before marrying that fool of a husband." She nodded toward the innkeeper. "I'll have her presenting tea like a palace servant by week's end."

  Later, in my own room, I spread out the documents Cael had procured. My new identity stared back at me, Rhys Thorne, third son of Lord Balthazar Thorne, a minor noble with lands to the north. I'd need to master countless details: family history, political allegiances, regional customs.

  Tomorrow, Cael would introduce me to the Thornes, the family who'd agreed to claim me as their long-lost son in exchange for whatever Cael had offered them.

  Some people buy swords. Others buy loyalty. But Cael? Cael buys entire lives.