The silence between them crackled like fire in a dry forest.
Zane's eyes flicked to the book half-hidden behind Evelyne's back. "You're not just studying old noble crests for fun, are you?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, Evelyne turned slightly, placing the book on a nearby shelf with calm precision. "You're following me."
Zane's voice dropped. "You've been acting strange ever since that letter."
"I don't owe you an explanation."
"No," he said, stepping closer, "but you might need someone you can trust."
His gaze wasn't accusing. It was protective. Too protective.
And that scared her more than any ghost from her past.
---
"You shouldn't be here," Evelyne said, voice low.
"I could say the same to you," Zane countered. "But I'm not here to lecture you. I'm here because something's wrong. And because…"
He trailed off, jaw tightening.
"Because I care," he finally said.
Her breath hitched, just for a second.
Zane stepped closer, and for a moment, she thought he might reach out—but he stopped himself. "If someone is threatening you, I want to help. I will help."
Evelyne's eyes darted away. Her heart pounded, but not for the reason he thought.
She couldn't let him in. Not yet.
Not when the past was clawing its way back through ash and blood.
---
Behind them, the candle flickered—then dimmed.
From deep within the archive, something shifted.
Evelyne's body tensed.
Zane's hand instinctively went to his sword.
Someone else had entered the archive.
---
To be continued…