The prince left with the head physician, his silhouette cutting a sharp, solitary figure against the grim backdrop of the quarantine estate. His back was tall and straight, yet it seemed to carry the weight of a thousand unseen burdens—the authority of his station, the lives of everyone within these walls. It was a heaviness Leena felt she could almost touch.
Her eyes lingered on him as she remembered everything that had happened that morning and the night before, her cheeks turning crimson. Until Maya, ever practical, tugged insistently at her sleeve, breaking the spell.
"Come, madam. I'll show you to your chamber. You need to rest after... everything."
Leena let out a soft, reluctant sigh. The pull to follow him was a physical ache, but duty and decorum called. She forced her feet to move, following Maya deeper into the labyrinthine estate.
Behind them, lost in his own world, Chen Yu finally noticed their departure.
"Wait! I'm coming too!" he called out, his voice a bright, cheerful anomaly in the somber atmosphere. He chased after them with small, quick, almost skipping steps, like an excited child following a parade.
But just as he was about to catch up, a shadow fell over him.
A heavy, unyielding hand clamped onto his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks.
Chen Yu spun around, coming face-to-face with Bao Wen. The man's grip was like being chained to a mountain—solid, immovable, and utterly silent.
"Let go!" Chen Yu hissed, his cheerful facade crumbling into irritation.
Bao Wen didn't move a muscle. His eyes, dark and depthless, met Chen Yu's, conveying a silent warning that was more effective than any shout.
Chen Yu tugged, twisted, and tried to pry the man's iron fingers from his arm. It was like trying to bend stone. Nothing worked. They stood locked in a silent battle of wills in the corridor—Chen Yu's glare sharp and frustrated, Bao Wen's expression as unreadable as ever.
Meanwhile, Leena and Maya entered a small, spartan chamber at the end of a quiet hall. The door slid shut, muffling the distant sounds of the estate.
Maya immediately lowered her head, her voice thick with apology. "I'm so sorry, madam… I argued, but all the better rooms were taken by the nobles fleeing the palace. This… this was the only one left."
Leena glanced around. It was humble, to be sure. A narrow bed with a thin mattress. A single, unadorned wooden chest. A lone candle on a stand, its flickering light doing little to push back the shadows. Yet, after the terror of the cave and the intensity of the inn, its very simplicity felt like a sanctuary.
She smiled softly, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "It's more than fine, Maya. It's safe. As long as we can help ensure everyone leaves this place alive and safe, I don't care if I sleep on the floor."
Maya blinked, studying her mistress's face. "Madam… did something happen? You look… different."
Leena tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Different? How?"
But her mind betrayed her, flashing back in a dizzying reel. The pressure of his hand holding hers. The low rumble of his voice against her ear. The solid, safe warmth of his chest as he held her. The look in his eyes when her voice returned.
Her cheeks, ever traitorous, flushed a warm, rosy pink.
Maya gasped, pointing a finger. "Y-your face! It's turning red! Just like a maiden in one of those romantic plays!"
Leena touched her own cheek, startled by the heat. "It is?" she whispered, her denial utterly useless.
Knock. Knock.
The sound was firm, authoritative, and sent Leena's heart leaping into her throat. A calm, familiar voice followed from the other side of the door.
"Leena."
Her heart didn't just stop; it seemed to freeze solid before restarting at a frantic, wild gallop.
The prince.
Maya froze beside her, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. She leaned in so close her whisper was a mere breath against Leena's ear.
"Why is His Highness calling for you directly?! At your chamber door?!"
But Leena was no longer listening. She was a whirlwind of sudden, nervous action. She rushed to the small, polished metal mirror hanging on the wall, frantically smoothing down stray strands of her hair, patting the folds of her simple robe into place. Her movements were too graceful, almost theatrically precise, as she hurried back to the door.
She took a steadying breath and slid it open. "Your Highness…" she said, her voice a blend of reverence and something softer, more personal.
Maya's jaw dropped. She hardly recognized her mistress—this flustered, radiant woman was a far cry from the pragmatic healer she had served for years.
Then she saw the prince standing in the doorway.
And she froze all over again.
Li Wei… was smiling. Not the cold, politic mask he usually wore. This was a real smile, subtle but undeniable, that reached his eyes and softened the hard lines of his face.
What in heaven's name is happening…? Maya thought, her mind reeling.
Li Wei seemed to remember himself. He cleared his throat, straightening his back until his posture was once again the picture of princely authority and confidence.
"Here she is," he announced, his voice regaining its formal timbre. "Leena will be your assistant from now on. Treat her as you would any junior physician."
An old man with a kind, weary face stepped out from behind the prince—the head physician. He bowed to her.
A flicker of cold fear shot through Leena's excitement.
What if this physician is like the last one? What if this is another trap?
But she pushed the thought down, bowing deeply in return, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Your Highness," the physician said, "with your permission, I must return to my patients. Leena, join me at the main infirmary tomorrow at the tenth bell. Do not be late."
Leena bowed even deeper. "Yes. Thank you for this opportunity. I am honored."
He offered a final, respectful bow to the prince and then left, his robes whispering against the floor as he disappeared down the hall.
The space outside her door grew quiet once more, charged with an unspoken current.
Leena and Li Wei looked at each other. A dozen conversations seemed to pass between them in the silence. The air was thick with all the things they couldn't say.
"Well…" Leena murmured, suddenly feeling shy.
"Well…" Li Wei echoed, his voice a low rumble.
Maya, having recovered her senses and her protective instincts, suddenly stepped forward, planting herself firmly between them and crossing her arms.
"Do you need anything else, Your Highness?" Her tone was polite but carried a clear, unspoken message: The audience is over.
Li Wei glanced at her, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. "No. I'm fine."
He turned, took one decisive step into the hall—then stopped. As if pulled by an invisible string, he turned back. His intense gaze found Leena's once more. "If you need anything… anything at all… tell me."
His tone was firm, a prince's command. Yet, underneath it was a layer of softness, a protective, almost boyish concern that was entirely new. It was, she thought with a secret thrill, almost… cute.
Leena's lips curved into a radiant, unreserved smile. She bowed lightly. "Thank you, Your Highness."
This time, he left for real, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
The door slid shut with a soft click.
Leena leaned back against the solid wood, a wide, foolish grin spreading across her face. Her heart refused to calm its joyful, frantic rhythm.
When she turned around, she found Maya standing right in front of her, arms still crossed, her face a mask of deep suspicion, her eyes sharp as daggers.
"Tell me," she demanded, her voice leaving no room for evasion. "What is going on between you two?"
Leena coughed, looking anywhere but at her maid. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened." The tone was far too airy, far too innocent to be believed.
Maya narrowed her eyes to slits. "It doesn't look like 'nothing'. Something is… wrong with the prince."
Leena blinked, her medical instincts instantly overriding her romantic daze. "Wrong?" A cold dread washed over her. "Is he ill? Did you see a symptom? Pallor? Shortness of breath?"
Her hands flew to her mouth in horror, her eyes widening. "You think—His Highness might be sick?! And he's hiding it!"
Before Maya could stop her, Leena was already lunging for her medicine box, her mind racing with diagnoses.
"Wait—no—that's not what I meant!" Maya cried out, realizing her poor choice of words.
It was too late.
Leena rushed to the door, medical kit in hand, a healer on a mission. "I have to go check on him immediately! It could be a delayed reaction to the poison, or a fever—"
"Madam, no!" Maya tried to grab her sleeve, but Leena, fueled by a potent mix of professional duty and personal terror, slipped free.
She yanked the door open, ready to sprint into the hall.
And froze.
Because someone was standing right there, having just been about to knock.
So close. Too close.
⋆˚࿔ To be continued...𝜗𝜚˚⋆