Chapter 386: Cut it out
Zyren continued to watch her.
Carefully.
His gaze remained fixed on her face, trying to make sure that at no point did her breathing become labored as he stared at her quietly in the dead of the night. The room was silent, the darkness thick and unmoving, broken only by the soft rise and fall of her chest.
He was waiting.
Waiting for morning.
Waiting for her to be better.
After a long while, he leaned closer and pressed a gentle kiss against the tip of her nose, his touch light enough not to disturb her sleep.
"I care greatly about you, Aria Duskbane," he whispered, his voice so low it was barely more than breath.
"...way more than I should."
The words were quiet, almost reluctant, spoken as though he did not intend for anyone to hear them.
You should already know that, he thought, his eyes lingering on her face as he continued to watch her through the silence of the night, waiting for morning to come.
Morning came.
And then the days after that.
For a short while, things seemed to improve.
Aria grew better. The heaviness in her body lessened slightly, and she even began to eat more properly. To help her recover, Zyren began mixing small amounts of his blood into her meals, and the effect was immediate enough to give everyone hope.
It helped greatly.
But it was only a temporary solution.
More like a quick fix to a new problem that needed something permanent.
Yes, she got better.
But only until it stopped working.
She was human.
Blood was not what her body truly needed.
Slowly, her condition began to crash again.
Her wounds, which had already been severe, stopped healing entirely. Instead, the skin around them grew inflamed, the edges darkening as infection began to set in. The pain worsened. The fever returned.
And with that came deeper weakness.
Then came the nausea.
Soon, her body began rejecting food altogether, leaving her unable to keep anything down for long.
A week passed.
And the situation only went from bad to worse.
The atmosphere inside the castle changed with her condition. The halls were unnaturally quiet. Servants walked softly, spoke in hushed tones, and avoided making any unnecessary noise.
If a newcomer had arrived, they might have wondered who had died.
Everyone moved like they were mourning.
Like they were afraid to disturb something fragile.
It was night again.
And unlike before, when Zyren spoke to Savira in low whispers, this time their voices carried through the room—loud, sharp, and strained.
Servants nearby lowered their heads and hurried away, fear driving their steps. The last thing any of them wanted was to be punished simply for hearing something they were never meant to hear.
Inside the room, Zyren’s anger was no longer restrained.
"Do you think me a fool?" he snapped, his voice far from calm as he paced back and forth.
Savira remained silent at first, knowing better than to say anything that might ignite the temper he was barely holding back.
"Aria is dying," he continued, his tone harsh. "And all I keep hearing are excuses!"
This time, she could not remain quiet.
"It was too risky! I shouldn’t have given her those potions," she said quickly. "They clearly had negative effects on the baby, which is why—"
"Can you really—really—for a fact say that what’s happening right now wouldn’t have happened sooner if you hadn’t given her the potion?" Zyren cut in, his voice loud and cutting.
The anger in his tone made it clear he would not hesitate to direct his frustration at her, no matter how long they had known each other.
Maybe even more because of it.
Savira had no answer.
She was a healer, trained through years of experience and practice.
She was not someone who could see the future.
"...she grows weaker day after day," Zyren continued. "Can you do something that will help?"
The determination in his eyes sent a chill down her spine.
Savira let out a slow breath, already regretting the words before she spoke them.
But there was nothing left to try.
The potions were no longer working.
"No," she admitted quietly. "There’s nothing more I can do that will help her. She’s human, and all the herbs I’ve used aren’t working fast enough."
Her hands clenched tightly.
"I... I can’t think of anything else to give her. And if her wounds don’t heal faster than they are now, the infections will continue to spread. Her condition will only worsen."
She forced herself to meet his eyes, expecting him to explode.
Instead, Zyren only stared at her.
The intensity of his gaze was heavier than any outburst.
Then he turned.
And walked out.
The door had barely closed behind him when Savira released a long breath of relief. The tension drained from her shoulders as helpless worry settled across her face. Slowly, she moved toward a chair and sank into it.
She didn’t know what Zyren was going to do.
But what could he do?
All any of them could do now was wait.
And hope that somehow Aria’s body managed to pull through.
Zyren, however, did not hesitate.
He headed straight toward Aria’s room—which was, in truth, their room.
The guards outside stepped aside immediately. Inside, a maid looked up in shock at his sudden entrance.
"Leave," he ordered.
She bowed quickly and hurried out without question.
The door closed firmly behind her.
Zyren stepped closer to the bed.
Aria lay there, pale as a sheet.
The moments when she woke were becoming shorter. Each time she opened her eyes, she seemed more exhausted than before. He knew there would come a time when she might not wake at all.
Usually, he would sit beside her and wait until she woke naturally.
Not this time.
He sat down beside her and reached out, tapping her gently.
Then again.
And again.
He did not stop.
There was a fierce determination in his eyes as he continued until she finally stirred.
Her breathing shifted. Her lashes fluttered weakly before slowly lifting. She looked more drowsy than ever, her gaze unfocused, her awareness struggling to return.
She’s getting worse, he thought, the realization settling coldly in his chest.
"Zyren..." she gasped softly.
Her eyes had not fully adjusted yet. She recognized his voice before she could properly see his face.
He did not hesitate.
"The baby is not going to survive," he said, his voice cool and calm.
"We need to cut it out."
The words were steady.
But to Aria, they felt like a blade driven straight into her chest.
