Rain fell softly through the night. It whispered against the windows and made the firelight flicker across the stone walls. Evelyn sat in the guardroom, her chin resting on her hand, staring at the quiet man tied to a chair in the middle of the room.
He was young and pale with short dark hair. His wrists were bound and his expression never changed. He looked calm, but there was something sharp behind his stillness, like a knife wrapped in cloth.
Evelyn sighed loudly. "You could at least say something," she told him. "A good evening would be nice. Even a cough would help."
He said nothing.
She crossed her arms. "All right. You win. The silent treatment it is."
The candle beside her sputtered. She pulled her cloak tighter. The rain outside was turning heavier. She glanced again at the prisoner. His eyes were fixed on the floor. She could not tell if he was thinking or simply waiting for something.
The door opened quietly. The Duke entered the room. His coat was damp from the rain and his dark hair looked slightly tousled. Even tired, he still looked like someone born to make other people straighten their backs and hold their breath.
"Guard Ash," he said. "How is our guest?"
"Completely charming," she replied. "He has said nothing, stared at me for an hour, and refused to blink more than twice."
The Duke's eyes moved to the prisoner. "He is trained to stay silent. That means whoever sent him is careful."
Evelyn tilted her head. "Do you think he works for the same people as Lord Harven?"
"Most likely," the Duke answered. "He carries the same kind of blade. The craftsmanship is foreign."
She frowned. "You notice details I never would."
"That is why I lead and you talk," he said calmly.
"I am good at both," she said proudly.
He gave her a quiet look that almost counted as amusement. "You will stay here and guard him until dawn. Captain Wren will question him again in the morning."
Evelyn nodded. "Yes, Your Grace."
He turned to leave, but she spoke again. "Your Grace, may I ask something?"
He paused by the door. "What is it?"
She hesitated for a moment. "Do you ever get tired of all this? The council, the danger, the pretending that everything is fine when it is not?"
His expression softened slightly. "Everyone gets tired. The difference is what they do with it."
Evelyn smiled faintly. "You make exhaustion sound poetic."
"I make it sound necessary," he said before stepping out of the room.
When the door closed, the guardroom fell quiet again.
Evelyn leaned back in her chair. The prisoner's gaze shifted toward her, then back to the floor. The silence was too heavy for her liking.
She started talking again just to fill the space. "I once met a thief who tried to rob a bakery," she said conversationally. "He slipped on butter and broke his ankle. The baker felt sorry for him and gave him free bread. That thief retired early. You could learn from him."
The prisoner's lips moved slightly. For a second, Evelyn thought she imagined it, but then he actually spoke.
"You talk too much," he muttered.
Her mouth fell open. "Did you just speak? Finally!"
He ignored her reaction and stared at the candle flame.
"You have no idea how proud I am right now," she said. "This is real progress. We could be friends by sunrise."
He sighed quietly. "You are strange."
"Thank you," she replied brightly. "I take that as a compliment."
For a brief moment, she thought she saw the corner of his mouth lift, but it disappeared before she could be sure.
Time passed. The rain softened into a drizzle. Evelyn stretched her legs and stood to pour herself water. Just as she raised the cup, she heard a faint noise outside the door.
She froze.
The sound came again, soft and quick. Footsteps.
She glanced at the prisoner. He was watching her now, silent but alert. Evelyn set the cup down and moved toward the door. "Stay where you are," she said quietly.
She opened the door and stepped into the corridor. The hallway was dimly lit. Shadows moved where the torches flickered. She followed the faint sound of footsteps until she turned the corner—
And bumped directly into someone solid.
Strong hands caught her shoulders before she could fall. She looked up and saw familiar gray eyes staring down at her.
The Duke.
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you always run toward noises in the dark?"
"I was protecting your house," she said quickly. "You should be proud."
He looked unimpressed. "Next time, try not to attack your employer while doing it."
"I was not attacking you," she said. "You were in the way."
He sighed. "You are exhausting."
She smiled. "You said that like it is a compliment."
He shook his head and glanced down the hall. "Captain Wren is checking the outer walls. There is no danger here."
"In that case," she said, "I will go back to talking to my very cheerful prisoner."
"Do that," he replied. "And Guard Ash, try not to start a conversation with anyone suspicious before dawn."
She grinned. "I cannot promise that."
He gave her a long look before walking away, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
Evelyn returned to the guardroom and sat down again. The prisoner was still there, quiet but clearly awake.
He spoke after a moment. "You ran out there without a weapon."
"I had one," she said, holding up her brass whistle. "It is very loud and effective."
He shook his head. "You are either fearless or foolish."
"Both," she said cheerfully. "It is a special talent."
He looked at her curiously. "Why are you even a guard? You do not act like one."
Evelyn paused, then smiled softly. "Because I wanted to protect something good. Even if I am bad at it sometimes."
The prisoner lowered his gaze. "That sounds lonely."
"Not anymore," she said quietly.
The rain faded until it became a soft hum outside the window. Evelyn felt her eyes grow heavy. She forced herself to stay awake, thinking about the Duke and the strange peace she felt whenever he was near.
When morning came, Captain Wren entered to relieve her. The prisoner remained silent again. Evelyn stood and stretched her arms, yawning.
"Did he say anything?" the Duke asked when she met him in the courtyard.
"Yes," she said proudly. "He told me I talk too much."
The Duke's lips curved faintly. "That might be the most accurate information we have received so far."
She smiled. "Do I get a reward?"
"Your reward is breakfast," he said.
"That is an excellent reward."
He started walking toward the mansion. "Come then. Before you find another reason to chase someone."
She followed beside him, the morning sun touching the wet cobblestones with gold. And even though she tried to look serious, her heart felt light. Somehow, walking beside him always made the world seem quieter and warmer at the same time.