At dawn the next morning, as the first hints of sunlight spilled gold across the hospital window, Livia slowly stirred awake in Marcellus's arms.
His chest was warm and solid, his breathing steady—like a deep, ancient well of calm. Pressed against him, she felt as though she were sleeping in a world that knew no danger. She nuzzled closer, her movements languid with the contentment of sleep, stretching in his embrace like a cat reluctant to leave the warmth.
Another peaceful night, she thought, the corners of her lips lifting with a faint smile.
Marcellus opened his eyes and met her gaze. The faint smile at the edge of his lips carried a gentle warmth, as restrained as always, yet deep enough to reach the heart.
During their morning routine, Livia moved with practiced ease—wiping his cheeks, fastening his hospital gown. The light touched the side of his face, softening the tired but still-sharp lines into something almost faded and tender.
As she carefully wiped his fingers, Marcellus's brows drew together, a subtle crease of thought.
"By the way," his voice dropped, as though not wanting to disturb something fragile, "we still have no lead on the third force we discussed. I keep thinking—we can't afford to focus only on Eryx. If we overlook that hidden player, we might be setting ourselves up for disaster."
Livia's hand paused briefly, then she nodded, a sharper edge glinting in her eyes.
"You're right. I've decided to entrust Elias with full authority over monitoring and analyzing the third faction." She straightened, her voice resolute. "After all, if we fail to find the Grail, it's only you and Edgar who'll be disappointed at most."
But then her tone shifted. A shadow passed through her gaze.
"But if that third party strikes the moment we do find it… that would be the real blow. One we might not recover from."
After speaking, she fell silent, her gaze dropping to the towel in her hands, eventually landing on the bandage wrapped around Marcellus's wrist.
She had been waiting—waiting for an answer he always avoided. Why did he care so much about the Grail? What did that relic truly mean to him?
But he never said.
A quiet ache rose within her. She couldn't bring herself to ask aloud. Instead, she simply handed him a water cup and turned her face away, trying to hide the emotions brewing behind her eyes.
Marcellus saw it all.
His eyes lowered, caught between thought and struggle.
At last, he spoke, his voice heavy, as though pressing against some unseen wall.
"…I'm sorry I never explained why. It's not that I didn't want to," he said slowly, the weight in his tone like something unshakable, "but rather… I feel like there's a force that won't allow me to say it."
Livia's head snapped up, shock flooding her face.
"A force?" Her voice trembled.
"Yeah." Marcellus closed his eyes briefly, his words rising like a tide from some submerged place. "There were times I couldn't even say the words 'I can't say.' It's like something blocked the thought before it ever reached my lips. But today… for some reason, I was finally able to say this much."
The air seemed to freeze.
Livia's lips parted, but no sound came. She stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. And yet… in the obsidian depth of his gaze, her instinct caught something true.
"…As much as I want to say you're lying," she whispered, her expression tangled with doubt and pain, "something tells me… you're not."
Her voice carried a quiet defiance, tinged with sorrow—and a thread of trust she couldn't sever.
"I'll believe you. For now." She smiled faintly, as if holding together something fragile. "If what you say is real, then maybe… someday, you'll be able to tell me everything."
Marcellus nodded, guilt and pain flickering in his eyes—along with a tenderness so fragile, it felt like hope on the verge of breaking.
"I hope that day comes soon."
He said it quietly, as if to her, but also to himself.
Then he drew a steady breath and shifted his tone, smoothing it out like folding away a secret.
"So… where are you going today?"
Livia gradually emerged from the cloud of emotion, her voice regaining its composure.
"I'll head back to the castle to rest for a bit," she said. "Then I'll check in with Elias again—remind him to watch for signs from that third force." She paused, looking him in the eye. "As for you, stay here and rest. No matter what… I want you to get better. When you're healed, we'll finish this. Together."
Her voice wasn't fiery—but steady. Full of hope, anchored in quiet strength.
Marcellus watched her. His throat moved slightly, but in the end, he said nothing more.
He simply nodded.
"…I'm looking forward to that day too—when I can tell you everything."
His voice was soft, but in it echoed a promise—one that reached beyond shadows and silence, into something eternal.