The Morning That Was Supposed to Be Ordinary.
Sunlight streamed through the east facing windows of Elarion's mansion, warming the marble floors in soft gold. The air smelled faintly of jasmine tea and freshly baked bread the kind of morning that felt gentle, warm, harmless.
A morning that promised peace.
But some days, fate takes gentle mornings and reshapes them into turning points. Today was one of those days.
At the entrance, his eyes always find her first.
Pillyse stepped out from the hallway, adjusting the hem of her simple dress. She wasn't wearing anything impressive pale cotton, soft fabric, just enough to be comfortable.
Yet Elarion, waiting at the entrance, straightened at the sight of her as though witnessing something rare.
"You look beautiful," he said, his tone not dramatic, not flirtatious.
Just true.
Pillyse blinked in disbelief. "I'm literally wearing morning clothes."
"Yes," he replied instantly.
"Beautiful."
Her throat tightened.
Words scattered like startled birds.
"W-we should go," she muttered.
He stepped closer, offering his hand with deliberate grace.
"That's right."
Her fingers hesitated… then slowly slid into his palm. Warm, safe, steady.
He guided her carefully up the carriage steps, his hand placed lightly at the small of her back.
"Careful," he murmured, voice low.
"The steps aren't even that high"
"I don't care." The sincerity made her heart flutter painfully.
She whispered, "…You're strange."
He bowed his head slightly.
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"Still," his eyes softened, "thank you."
Her face pinked all the way to her ears. She turned sharply away, but he caught the tiny tremble of her lips trying not to smile.
The Carriage. Warm Laughter Before the Storm.
The carriage began moving, wheels rolling smoothly along the cobblestoned street. Pillyse pressed her forehead to the window the moment she saw a bustling row of vendors.
Elarion chuckled lightly.
"You're going to leave a print on the glass."
"I'm appreciating the scenery!"
"You're fogging up the scenery."
She whirled around to glare at him. "Stop ruining my moment."
He leaned back with exaggerated elegance. "Very well. I will allow you to fog the glass."
"Allow?" she sputtered.
His lips twitched. "You haven't been outside much," he said softly.
Her eyes flickered.
His tone wasn't teasing.
It was… sad. Gentle.
"That's because someone insists on guarding me like an overprotective hound."
"I am not overprotective."
"You stayed beside me while I slept."
"That is responsibility."
"That is obsession."He looked offended in the most dignified way possible. "You wound me deeply, Pillyse."
She rolled her eyes, but warm laughter slipped out. For a moment, It felt like happiness was something simple.
Attainable.
Then her Eyes Caught Something Wrong.
The carriage turned into a narrower street, slightly congested.
Pillyse's smile faded.
Her gaze sharpened.
Something… wasn't right.
There, by a dim alley between two abandoned stalls. A small figure.
A child.
And then Pillyse's breath vanished. Her chest tightened violently.
"Wait…"
Her hand trembled against the glass. "STOP! Stop the carriage!"
Elarion reacted before the driver did. "Stop," he ordered sharply.
The wheels screeched to a halt. Pillyse ripped the door open.
"Pillyse!" Elarion called after her, fear cutting through his voice. But she was already running.
(A child should never look like that) She thought.
She rushed into the alley, and froze.
The world spun.
The air turned thin.
A small boy maybe eight years old stood cornered against a wall. Blond hair matted with mud. Face bruised, clothes ripped, and dirt staining every inch of his skin.
Three grown men towered over him. "Stand up!" one roared, kicking the boy's leg.
The child didn't cry.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't defend himself.
He just stared at the ground…with empty eyes.
Eyes that had already accepted pain as normal. Eyes that should never belong to a child.
Pillyse's heart cracked open. It was like seeing her younger self.
The loneliness.
The fear.
The helplessness.
The silent plea for someone, anyone, to save her. Her vision blurred hot with rage.
"HEY!" she screamed, voice sharp and shaking.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
The men turned. "Back off, girl"
"No. YOU back off."
"You little"
The rest of his insult died on his tongue when he noticed the shadow behind her. Duke Elarion. Expression cold.
Authority unmistakable.
"Is there a problem?" he asked softly…dangerously softly.
Recognition struck them like lightning. "D–Duke Elarion"
"You were about to hurt him again," Elarion said quietly.
"That was a mistake." They didn't wait for a second warning. They ran, terrified, scrambling like rats from a burning ship.
Pillyse rushed forward, kneeling beside the boy. "Hey… sweetheart…" she whispered, voice trembling.
"You're safe now. Look at me. You're safe."
The child lifted his head slowly. His blue eyes once bright, now dim met hers, and then his body swayed and collapsed.
"NO!" Pillyse caught him before he hit the ground, arms wrapping protectively around him.
He was so light.
Too light.
As if starvation had hollowed him out. "Elarion!" she cried, voice breaking.
"Please"
"I already called for help," he said, kneeling at her side.
"I've got you. Hold him close."
"I won't let go," she whispered fiercely.
"I won't ever let go…"
Her tears soaked into the child's hair. Then her past flooded back with cruel clarity.
(Flashback Once, She Was A Child Like Him)
Her father's disgusted voice echoed in her memory"You ruined my life."
Her mother's quiet sobs behind closed doors.
Her father slamming the front door to visit her, the woman he truly loved.
School whispers. "Her father doesn't want her."
"She shouldn't even exist." "She's the reason her mother cries."
And the day her father saw the child of the woman he loved at school, and hit Pillyse for looking "too happy."
Her younger self curled behind a building, hiding bruised arms, swallowing sobs because there was no one to protect her.
No one.
No one.
Just like this boy.
Her heart shattered.
Back at the Mansion.
Kael Renford and Butler Yoter stood at the entrance like anxious statues.
"My Lady, Your Grace!" Kael rushed forward.
"What happened?!"
"A child was beaten," Elarion said.
"He's in critical condition."
Kael's usually calm eyes flashed with anger.
"Bring him. Now."
Pillyse stepped out, holding the child close to her chest. Kael reached out to carry him, but
"No," she whispered, clutching tighter.
"…I'm holding him."
Kael froze then bowed deeply. "As you wish, my lady."
The doctor rushed in, already preparing tools and potions. Pillyse stood at the foot of the bed, arms wrapped around herself, shaking. Elarion moved behind her not touching, but close. Close enough for her to feel his presence. Warm enough to keep her from collapsing.
When her shoulders trembled, his hand brushed her back, slow, gentle, cautious.
"I'm here," he whispered.
"You're not alone. Not anymore."
The words nearly broke her all over again.
An hour later, the doctor stepped out, bowing his head. "Your Grace… his injuries are extensive."
"How extensive?" Elarion asked, voice icy.
The doctor sighed heavily.
"Two fractured ribs.
A broken arm.
Multiple severe bruises.
Signs of long-term malnutrition.
Internal swelling.
Emotional trauma."
Pillyse hid her face in her hands. "How can anyone… do that to a child…"
Her voice cracked apart.
The doctor spoke gently. "He is stable. But fragile."
Elarion didn't hesitate.
"Provide everything he needs.
The best care.
The best medicine.
Anything."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"I'm Sorry…"
When the doctor left, Pillyse turned to Elarion with trembling lips.
I… I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"I ruined everything, the schedule, the designs, the fittings…"
Elarion stepped closer, gently brushing a tear from her cheek. "Pillyse."
His voice carried both softness and unyielding certainty. "You ruin nothing."
"But—"
"You," he murmured, eyes steady on hers, "are never an inconvenience."
Her breath faltered.
Her chest tightened.
She hadn't realized until this moment just how desperately she needed someone to say that.
"I want to stay with him," she whispered.
"Just… a little longer."
Elarion nodded. "As long as you wish."
He didn't question, didn't protest. Because he understood better than anyone.
He squeezed her hand before leaving her alone with the child.
Pillyse sat beside the boy, brushing dirt from his forehead.
"You're safe," she whispered.
"No one will hurt you again.
Not while I'm here."
Her voice broke. But she kept speaking softly.
"You deserve warmth.
You deserve love.
You deserve to be a child."
The boy slept on, breathing shallowly, and she kept watch. Minutes blurred into hours, the room dimmed into evening. Her eyes grew heavy, her body slumped, and eventually she fell asleep in the wooden chair, still holding the child's tiny hand.
Late at night, Elarion opened the door quietly.
He froze.
Pillyse was asleep, head resting on her arm, her hair messy, her body uncomfortable, her hand still wrapped protectively around the child's.
Something inside him cracked open. He walked to her slowly. Kneeling beside her, he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"You carry so much pain," he whispered.
"More than you ever show."
His voice trembled. He didn't bother hiding it.
"And still… still you reach out to save others." He exhaled shakily.
"I will save you," he murmured into her hair.
"Even if it destroys me."
Gently…ever so gently…
He slid one arm beneath her back, one under her knees, and lifted her. She instinctively curled into him.
Her head nestled into his chest.
Her breath warmed his neck.
His heart clenched painfully.
He held her closer, and in the silent hallway, carrying her toward her room, he whispered. "Pillyse… you have no idea how precious you are."