Hector didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually, the doors at the far end of the hall swung open, and a figure stepped through.
He quickly looked over and stood up immediately as recognition crossed his features. He pressed a fist to his chest as he bowed his head. "Lady Herald."
The woman who entered moved with a grace that made the starlight itself seem to follow her. Her hair flowed white as fresh snow, cascading past her shoulders in soft waves. A cloth of pale silk covered her eyes, wrapped gently around her head, yet she navigated the hall without the slightest hesitation. Her presence carried a purity that filled the chamber like the first breath of winter air.
She inclined her head as she approached. "Warden Hector. Forgive me for making you wait. The threads of fate do not always weave themselves into convenient patterns."
"It is no trouble at all. I would have waited longer if needed."
A faint smile touched her lips. With a single step, she crossed the length of the hall and appeared at the seat opposite his. She gestured gracefully toward his chair. "Please. Sit."
Hector nodded and lowered himself back into his seat. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "Lady Herald, if I may ask... has the Lord Arbiter been free lately? Is there a chance I might meet with him?"
The Herald’s smile remained gentle, but there was a knowing quality to it. "Unfortunately, the Lord Arbiter is occupied with matters of great importance and cannot be disturbed. However..." She tilted her head slightly. "I should be able to answer whatever questions you carry."
"Then I’ll get straight to the point." Hector nodded, a faint smile crossing his weathered face. "I want to know why Warden Ethea was expelled from our ranks, and more importantly, why no one stepped forward to offer her support afterward."
The Herald was silent for a moment. Then she spoke, her voice softer than before.
"There was a reason for that. A rather important one. However... it is not something I can share with you, Warden Hector."
Hector’s brow furrowed. "...Is it related to the curse she bears?"
The Herald nodded slowly. "That is part of it."
"Then can we at least help her with that?" Hector leaned forward, his voice tightening. "She has been suffering for months. Surely we have resources that could-"
"Warden Hector." The Herald’s voice was gentle, but it cut through his words like a blade through silk. "I can only tell you one thing... The curse is the reason she has survived this long. To interfere with it now would be to take away the very thing that has kept her alive."
Hector looked at her with a frown, puzzled by her cryptic words.
"We should not intervene," she continued. "Because that is the only path through which she can endure what is to come."
She paused, and a faint smile returned to her lips.
"Besides... she already has the greatest helper she could ever hope for by her side."
Hector’s eyes widened. "You mean... her husband? Soren?"
The Herald’s smile remained, offering neither confirmation nor denial.
"...I understand. But... Is there really no way we can help them?"
"...Aren’t you already helping them?" The Herald replied. "You saved their life and are now helping them prepare for the future. And... While ’we’ can’t help them, it’s different for you."
"...I see," Hector whispered, seeming to understand something from the Herald’s words. "Then I will take my leave. Take care, Lady Herald."
Lady Herald nodded and watched as Hector’s body disintegrated into particles of light.
She remained seated long after he had gone, the starlight shifting slowly across the empty hall. Her fingers traced the armrest of her chair, and a sigh escaped her lips.
"...This is their fate. We can only hope for the best. As our fate is deeply tied to theirs..."
───────
"..."
"..."
"...Done," Soren whispered as he pulled the soft hem of the tunic down, finishing dressing Ethea. He gently adjusted her position, leaning her back against the cushions until she was comfortable. "And the next is..."
He reached out and picked up the towel he had already prepared. He draped it lightly over her damp hair and began patting it dry, working slowly from the top of her head down to the ends. Once most of the moisture had been absorbed, he traded the towel for a comb and started working through the strands, beginning at the tips and gradually moving upward to avoid pulling.
Ethea kept her eyes shut the whole time, her cheeks still warm from the embarrassment of being dressed by him, yet she could not deny how much she enjoyed being taken care of by him.
It was strange, really.
When Aunt Clara or others helped her, she didn’t feel anything in particular. But when Soren did it, she became acutely aware of every little touch. The way his fingers brushed against her scalp as he dried her hair. The gentle tug of the comb as he worked through the strands. The warmth of his presence so close to her. It all made her heart beat a little faster, and she had no idea how to explain it.
...No.
She... She did know.
Deep down, she had known for a while now. But admitting it meant opening a door she wasn’t sure she was ready to walk through. Perhaps because she was afraid of what would change between them. Perhaps because it didn’t feel like the right time, not with everything hanging over their heads. Or perhaps she simply hadn’t found the courage to put those feelings into words.
So she kept them locked away, letting moments like this speak in her place. A slight tilt of her head when his fingers brushed her neck. The way she stopped holding her breath whenever he stepped into the room. Little things that she hoped he noticed without her having to explain them.
"There." Soren set the comb aside and ran his fingers through her hair one last time, smoothing it down her back. "All done."
Ethea opened her eyes and looked up at him. "...Thank you."
"Don’t mention it." Soren chuckled. "Anyway, shall we go out now? Auntie must be tired of waiting by now."
"Mm..."
"Alright, let’s go then." Soren gently lifted her, placed her into the wheelchair, and rolled her outside. ’...I hope I passed the test.’