Majori's POV:
Perhaps my sudden outburst at the nurses and attendants had already reached Vincent's ears, because that very afternoon, he came to see me.
The door opened quietly, and I saw him.
Vincent stepped inside, bringing with him a wave of cold air from the hallway that spread through the small room. The dim light of the lamp reflected off the dark velvet cloak that trailed to the floor, the silver wolf fur lining along the collar swaying gently with each of his steps. Every movement carried the regal weight of a king: dignified, distant, and untouchable as if the space between us was already an entire world. He must have come during his short break, not even bothering to change out of his royal attire.
Beneath the cloak, his gold-inlaid armor gleamed faintly under the soft light, every engraved pattern glowing with a muted, refined sheen. I could hear the faint, rhythmic clink of metal with each movement he made, low, steady like the heartbeat of a man whose heart had long turned to steel.
A silver ring shaped like a crescent moon encircled his finger, catching the light and sending a shiver through me. It was the royal seal of the Lycan King, the mark of one who commanded thousands and the symbol of eternal solitude.
The moment he entered, his eyes fell on the untouched tray of food on the table and his brows furrowed in clear disapproval. His dark hair brushed lightly over the collar of his cloak, a few strands falling over his forehead and half-veiling those amber eyes that burned like fire beneath ice. Yet I could still see it, that flame within, restrained yet fierce, and laced with pain too deep to name.
He looked at me, and with just that one look, the air seemed to thicken. My heart clenched. I felt like a child caught doing something wrong.
"Why haven't you eaten?" Vincent asked, stepping closer, his tone firm but low, carrying a quiet anger.
I sat up from the bed as he approached. With my mind still in turmoil over my parents, I had neither the will nor the appetite for food or drink.
"I didn't want to eat," I murmured.
"Even if you don't want to, you will. Unless you plan to stay here forever and never see your future husband again."
"Future husband", those words struck like a slap across my face. But I had no strength left to care. My thoughts were tangled only around the fear and uncertainty of my parents' fate. Nothing else mattered anymore.
Vincent sat beside me, reached for the tray, and frowned slightly. "It's gone cold. Rin, bring another one."
For days now, the meals had always been what I liked most. I knew he still remembered my preferences. And the more thoughtful he was, the more it hurt. My chest felt tight every time I realized he still cared this much.
I looked at Vincent. At moments like this, when I was weak, I could pretend to be strong in front of anyone but never him. In front of him, my walls would crumble. I wanted so badly to fall into his arms to tell him everything. I knew he could help me. He always could.
"Vincent…"
I reached out to touch him. My hand was ice-cold while his was warm. The contrast startled me and I quickly pulled back. He seemed surprised by my sudden motion, glancing from my hand to my face, sensing something strange.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing… nothing…"
How could I ask him for help? Hadn't I already hurt him enough? If he found out the truth about Brian, about everything what would he think of me?
And his life now… it was perfect. Wealth, power, loyalty, love, everything he deserved. I couldn't disturb that peace.
But Vincent knew me too well. Seeing my hesitation, he caught my hand firmly.
"If something's wrong, you'd better say it now. Don't wait until I find out myself."
"There's nothing… I'm just cold…"
Vincent clearly didn't like me keeping things from him. He never did. But what could I say? Things weren't the same anymore.
"Cold?" His eyes lifted. The room was already warm with a heater and vents humming softly, yet my hands and feet were freezing because my heart had already fallen into chaos.
Just then, Rin entered with a fresh meal. As he set it down and turned to leave, Vincent gestured for him to stay.
"Have someone check the heating system. It might be dusty, it's not warming properly."
"But I thought..." Rin began, probably to say that the room was perfectly warm, but Vincent raised his hand.
"Go."
"Yes, sir."
Rin's eyes flicked toward me before leaving. He knew. They all did. The people around Vincent never liked me, I understood that. How could they?
A faint, bitter smile crept to my lips but before I could speak, a spoon suddenly appeared in front of me.
I blinked, startled. Vincent was holding a bowl in one hand, a spoonful of rice in the other, looking directly at me.
"I can feed myself…" I said, feeling oddly embarrassed.
As I reached for the bowl, he shifted it away.
"You said you were cold. If you spill it on the sheets, the maids will have to change everything again. Just behave for once."
His words sounded scolding, even teasing, but underneath was that quiet tenderness that could undo me so easily. My gaze fell and as the spoon moved closer again, I opened my mouth.
I hadn't wanted to eat but somehow, that meal tasted unusually warm.
"Shouldn't you… go back to work?" I asked softly, glancing at the clock. It was already two in the afternoon.
"I should. So eat faster."
Vincent fed me until the bowl was empty. When the servants came in to clear the dishes, he stood, ready to leave.
Watching his back, I felt something heavy and hollow twist inside my chest. My eyes followed him, unwilling to blink as if by looking long enough, I could somehow hold him here. But just as he reached the door, Vincent turned around and our eyes met. I quickly looked away.
"If you want any snacks, tell the servants. They won't dare mistreat you."
"Alright…" I whispered.
And then he was gone.
My fingers clenched the blanket. He was still so kind. Time might change everything but Vincent's heart, his gentle, stubborn heart remained the same.
As for my parents, I decided to question that spy to find out a little more.