Auren stood frozen in front of the lady. He wasn't sure how to respond—what to respond.
What did she mean by Defiled?
What did she mean by saying he wasn't supposed to be here?
What exactly was going on with this trial?
He hadn't even intended to open the stone coffin, yet something had kept beckoning him.
How could he possibly explain that to her without sounding like a liar—or worse, delusional?
Auren gulped and steadied his crumbling expression, locking eyes with the lady. A resolute crimson light burned behind his gaze.
"I don't know what a Defiled is… but I know something called me here. The doors opened with just the touch of my hand. And I found myself standing in front of… this."
He turned to the stone coffin, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Not to mention, this strange symbol—it unsettles me. Even though I've never seen it before in my life."
He shifted his gaze back to the woman. She studied him with eyes sharp as razors, picking apart every twitch in his face.
Auren held firm beneath her scrutiny, clenching his fist to stop his body from trembling.
She moved slightly. Her brow creased as she cast one more wary glance over him—from head to toe—before finally exhaling.
The pressure she'd been exerting vanished with that breath.
"Get out."
Her words were firm, final.
Auren frowned and stepped back, unsure.
"I… can't."
She turned, already walking away when she suddenly stopped mid-step and snapped her head toward him, eyes narrowed with fury.
"What did you say?"
Auren flinched—but didn't falter. He met her glare with his own and spoke again, firmer this time.
"I said, I can't. I'm sorry, truly… but I believe there's a reason I'm here. I won't just walk away from that—whatever it is—just because you told me to."
'Reason? Reason? Hell naaah. I don't even know what it could be.'
'But I finally found shelter. I'm not giving that up just because I'm unwanted.'
Besides, the Paladin was still out there. If he found Auren… he might not die, but his state would make him wish he had.
Auren was sure of it.
Right now, he couldn't afford to be found.
And so, he had to convince this strange woman to let him stay.
The lady placed one slender hand on the hilt of her sword and began to walk toward Auren, hips swaying, her black dress rippling with every step like it was stitched from shadow.
Auren gulped as she approached. His brain was scrambling—spinning gears and drawing blanks. He could find no excuse, no lie, no clever words to save himself.
He had never been much of a talker to begin with.
She stopped just in front of him. Too close. Her chest bounced slightly, catching his eyes before he averted them, lifting his gaze to meet her face instead, frowning with all the resolve he could summon.
She looked down at him, stern. Yet, in the glow of her amber eyes, Auren glimpsed it—a flicker of amusement, subtle but unmistakable.
Her voice was low. Silken. The kind that wrapped around nerves like wire.
"…You've got a spine. I'll give you that. But spine doesn't mean sense."
She leaned in slightly. Close enough for Auren to catch the faint scent of steel and night jasmine.
Her next words came soft, but struck like thunder.
"You walk into a temple you weren't meant to find. You almost opened what could've very well doomed us all. And now you want to stay?"
She smirked. It wasn't friendly.
"You're either suicidal… or very interesting."
She tapped her finger—once, lightly—on the hilt of her sword.
"And I don't like interesting things I don't understand."
Then she straightened. Whatever amusement she'd shown vanished, replaced by something cold.
"You want shelter? Earn it. Otherwise, I'll carve your reason out of your chest and toss it back to the Paladin."
Auren shivered.
'Of course… What was I expecting?'
He'd basically told her he was running from the Paladin, and she wasn't stupid. She'd figured it out. He wasn't just desperate—he was hunted.
Still, he clenched his fist tighter, grounding himself, and met her cold gaze with one of his own.
"…How do I do that?"
She folded her arms and looked down at him, slowly letting her lips stretch into a wider smile.
And then Auren felt it.
Wrong.
Something felt very, very wrong.
"Oh, you're willing to earn it?"
She said, voice honeyed.
"Then I'll give you shelter. A warm bath. Clean clothes. Can you imagine? Isn't that just delightful? I'm incredibly hospitable, you know."
Yeah… no.
Something had definitely shifted.
Her earlier caution had evaporated. The pressure was gone. Now she was smiling.
'This is a trap,' his gut whispered.
But still… Auren chuckled sheepishly, playing along.
She wrapped an arm around his neck and began dragging him toward the staircase on the left, her steps slow and unbothered. She kept talking as they climbed—about baths and hospitality and how lucky he was.
They reached the third floor from the bottom before she stopped.
She pointed lazily at a room down the hall.
"This room's yours. The library is on the second floor. First floor's just junk…storage. Don't come up past this level unless I summon you. I'm working on a very, very sociopathic guy. He might not be as hospitable as I am."
Auren blinked.
He didn't know what that meant… but he wasn't planning to find out. Her advice—whatever twisted logic it followed—he would take.
Right now, he just needed a place to crash.
A few hours of sleep.
Then maybe, just maybe, he'd figure out what the hell he was supposed to do next.