Caelith froze where she stood.

Osvald looked at her quietly through the dimness of the prison cell.

"This is the Imperial Prison," he said softly. "It is far too dangerous. If someone were to discover you here..."

"I’m not afraid," she cut him off, sounding even more courageous than she had expected.

"But I am." The man tightened his grip around her hand. "You are the last surviving bloodline of the family. If anything were to happen to you, how could I ever face our ancestors in the afterlife?"

Tears spilled down Caelith’s cheeks. "Uncle..."

Osvald raised a trembling hand and awkwardly brushed away the tears upon her face.

"Young lady," he murmured gently, "you must live well." A faint smile appeared on his lips. "Even if I die, I will die without regrets, knowing that you are safe."

Caelith shook her head fiercely. "I don’t want you to die!"

Osvald smiled at her, his own eyes slowly reddening. "Foolish girl..."

Footsteps suddenly echoed from outside the corridor. Caelith’s heart tightened instantly.

"I have to go."

Osvald nodded, returning the cloth with the still-full flask. "Go. Quickly!"

Caelith rose to her feet and walked toward the cell door. Yet just before leaving, she turned back one final time.

"I will save you. No matter what it takes, I will bring you out of here. I will find a way."

Osvald gazed at her and smiled. But that smile looked more painful than tears.

Caelith bit down hard on her lip before hurrying away without daring to look back again.

***

That night, by the time Rhaegar returned, Caelith was already lying in bed.

He did not light the lamps. The chamber remained cloaked in darkness as he walked silently to the bedside and lay down behind her, slipping an arm around her waist.

Caelith did not move, yet he could feel it clearly––she was trembling.

"Caelith?"

She said nothing.

Rhaegar frowned slightly before turning her gently in his arms so she faced him. Moonlight filtered through the narrow cracks in the lattice window, spilling silver across her delicate face.

There were tear stains upon her cheeks.

His eyes narrowed at once. "What happened?"

Caelith lowered her gaze and shook her head. "I had a nightmare."

Rhaegar studied her carefully, a glint of doubt flashing through his gaze. "What nightmare?"

She fell silent for a brief moment. Then, in a quiet voice, she whispered, "I dreamed... that someone I cherished... died."

Rhaegar pulled her closer against his chest, sighing softly. "Dreams are always the opposite of reality."

Caelith buried her face against him, his warmth seeping straight into her heart. "...Mm."

He did not question her further. He merely tightened his embrace, as though wishing to shield her completely within his arms.

Caelith kept her eyes closed, her face pressed against Rhaegar’s chest, but no matter how hard she tried, sleep would not come.

Her thoughts churned endlessly like storm-tossed waters beneath the darkness. Restlessly, she shifted slightly.

A muffled groan escaped Rhaegar’s throat. Caelith froze for a moment before lifting her head.

Under the pale wash of moonlight, Rhaegar’s brows were faintly drawn together, as though he were enduring some hidden pain in silence.

"What’s wrong?"

Rhaegar shook his head lightly. "Nothing."

Caelith looked at him carefully, trying to see through his pretence. Something was not right.

She reached toward his waist instinctively. The moment her fingers brushed against him, he caught her wrist.

"Don’t."

Caelith froze. "Let go."

He did not move.

Her gaze sharpened as she spoke each word slowly and clearly. "Rhaegar. Let go of me."

Silence lingered between them for a brief second. Then, at last, his fingers loosened.

Caelith immediately threw back the covers and lit the lamp beside the bed. The wick flickered to life, casting a dim golden glow across the chamber.

And across Rhaegar’s body.

Wide bandages were wrapped tightly around his waist. They had already been soaked through with blood, a dark crimson stain spreading across the white cloth like spilled ink upon snow.

Caelith’s breathing halted for a moment. She gasped, covering her lips to suppress the surge of wild emotions.

Slowly, carefully, she reached out and touched the bloodied bandage.

Rhaegar inhaled sharply.

"Does it hurt?"

Rhaegar shook his head. "It doesn’t."

Caelith glared at him, anger and panic blazing together in her eyes. She immediately climbed out of bed and hurried to fetch the medicine chest.

When she returned, he was leaning silently against the headboard, watching her every movement.

She placed the medicine chest beside the bed and sat down.

"Take off your clothes."

Rhaegar looked at her helplessly. "It’s really nothing serious."

"Take them off." Her eyes burned like fire as she stared at him.

He fell silent for a moment. Then, without another word, he slowly raised his hand and loosened his robes.

The bandages had been wrapped tightly, yet blood had still seeped through the layers of cloth.

Caelith carefully unwound them little by little. When the wound beneath was finally revealed, her breath caught softly in her throat.

The cut was neither shallow nor fatal, but clean and precise, its edges sharp enough to show it had been inflicted by a blade.

Her eyes reddened instantly.

"How did this happen?"

Rhaegar tried to shrug, but only winced from pain once more. "While capturing someone."

Caelith picked up the medicinal powder and gently sprinkled it across the wound with trembling fingers.

"Does it really not hurt?"

"It doesn’t."

She lifted her eyes to truly look at him. "You’re lying."

Rhaegar smiled faintly. It was a soft, fleeting smile, yet the light in his eyes seemed warmer than the candle flame beside them.

"When you’re beside me," he murmured, "it doesn’t hurt anymore."

Caelith froze. A flush slowly crept across her cheeks.

She lowered her head at once and continued wrapping the fresh bandages around his waist, avoiding his gaze as though afraid he would see too much written upon her face.

"Honey-tongued devil, you..."

When she finally finished, she looked up again.

"All done."

Rhaegar did not speak immediately. He simply gazed at her, his eyes lazily roaming over her features.

"Caelith."

"Mm?"

"Could you help distract me for a while?"

She blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"