But then, the cold iron of his finger rings caught the light, the sharp edges reflecting it back at him like a warning.
His hand froze mid-air before retreating.
"Elara," he said, his voice quiet but firm.
A shadow emerged from the darkness, revealing Elara Grey's reluctant expression.
Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she glanced between him and Seraphina.
"Send her back," Emerys said after a pause, his gaze returning to the sleeping girl.
Elara hesitated, her tone slightly wary. "As you wish, but…" She turned to the figure in the shadows. "Sebastian, help her up."
A young swordsman stepped forward, his movements quick and precise as he approached Seraphina.
Just as his hand reached toward her, Emerys's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Wait."
Sebastian froze mid-step, confusion flickering in his eyes as he turned toward Emerys.
"I'll do it myself," Emerys said, his tone unyielding.
Elara's eyes widened. "Young Master, are you sure—"
But Emerys was already leaning down, his arms slipping beneath Seraphina's small frame.
He lifted her with ease, her weight hardly registering in his arms.
"Lead the way," he said simply, his tone brooking no argument.
Sebastian hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded and started ahead, leading the way through the winding corridors and quiet halls.
As Emerys carried Seraphina, he couldn't help but notice how light she felt, as though she might vanish if he let go.
A faint, familiar fragrance clung to her, stirring something deep in his memory.
His steps faltered for the briefest moment as a long-buried image surfaced in his mind.
A little girl with bright eyes and a playful smile, tugging at his sleeve. "Brother Emerys, I need to go! Nanny will come looking for me soon." Her laughter was like sunshine, warm and carefree.
The memory shattered like glass, replaced by the weight of the present.
The ache in his chest deepened, and his arms tightened slightly around her, as if to shield her from the world that had caused her so much pain.
Seraphina stirred in his arms, her head turning slightly as she murmured softly, her voice barely audible. "No… Leander… it's not… it's not like that…"
The words struck him like a sudden storm, and he stopped in his tracks.
Sebastian turned back, concern flickering across his face. "Sir? We're almost there."
Emerys exhaled slowly, steadying himself. After a moment, he shifted Seraphina's weight and handed her carefully to Sebastian. "Take her to her room," he said, his voice as cold and calm as ever. "If Lysander finds out, tell him I gave the order. And remind him that if a single hair on her head is harmed, the Shadowed Veil Division will see to it that he regrets it."
His words, though quiet, carried a chilling edge.
Sebastian straightened, his expression solemn. "Yes, sir." Without another word, he adjusted his hold on Seraphina and disappeared into the night.
Emerys watched them go, his sharp eyes lingering on her retreating figure. The night was still, but his thoughts churned like a storm.
Emerys Dusk stared at the path Seraphina Evercrest had taken, his chest tightening painfully.
A foul, choking sensation surged up, forcing him to cover his pale lips as violent coughs tore through him.
He bent forward, clutching his chest as the fit worsened, each cough sending sharp jolts through his body.
His face flushed with two patches of unhealthy redness, contrasting starkly with his otherwise ghostly pallor.
"Why did you help her, Young Master?" Elara Grey's voice echoed softly behind him, hesitant yet laced with concern.
Emerys opened his mouth to answer, but another wave of coughing overcame him.
His slender frame shuddered as the spasms subsided, leaving him breathless and trembling.
Elara stomped her foot in frustration, her usual composure breaking.
Rushing forward, she pulled a porcelain bottle from her robe.
"Young Master!" she exclaimed, unscrewing the lid hurriedly. She poured out a single pill, gently pressing it to his lips. "Here, take this."
With difficulty, Emerys swallowed the medicine, the bitter taste lingering as it slid down his throat.
"There isn't much left…" Elara's voice wavered, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.
"It doesn't matter," Emerys said faintly, his voice like a whisper against the cold night air. "When the medicine is gone, ask him for more."
"But, Young Master…" Elara hesitated, wringing her hands. "He won't give it early. You know how cruel he is. If the poison takes effect—"
Her words were cut off by a sharp, icy glance from Emerys. The expression in his dark eyes froze her in place.
She flinched and dropped to her knees, bowing her head. "Forgive me, Young Master. I was wrong to speak out of turn."
With a quiet sigh, Emerys extended a hand to help her up. "You were only worried. Let it go," he said gently, though his voice carried an edge of exhaustion.
He turned his gaze skyward, where the pale moon hung low in the east.
The night was eerily still, as if it, too, was waiting for something inevitable.
"Tell the Shadowed Veil Division to investigate why Lysander Celestis harbors hatred for the Evercrest family," Emerys instructed, his tone steady despite the undercurrent of weariness.
Elara nodded, her eyes glistening as she wiped the corners with the sleeve of her robe.
Her heart ached as she watched his lonely figure, silhouetted against the faint glow of the distant lanterns.
Summoning her courage, she dared to ask one last question.
"Why, Young Master?" she whispered. "Why did you help Miss Evercrest?"
Emerys paused, his back turned to her, and for a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, with a voice as soft as a breeze, he replied, "She's an old friend… from a long time ago."
The memories flooded him unbidden, fragments of a past he couldn't forget.
Seraphina's laughter, bright and carefree, had once been a part of his life.
But that was years ago—an era swallowed by darkness.
She had likely forgotten, yet he remembered every detail. How could he not?
He brushed the thought away, his heart heavy. Turning slightly, he cast one last glance back at Elara before disappearing into the shadows of the corridor.