"Say the name."
Killian's voice remained low. It did not rise. It was not angry. But that was exactly what made Josselyn's chest feel tight.
She stared at the shards of glass scattered across the floor.
"I… don't remember, Your Highness."
Josselyn swallowed hard. She remembered it clearly. The way they called her name in sharp, hurried tones. And the moment she appeared, objects would always come flying at her.
Her cheeks bruised.
Her stomach turned blue.
There was even a day she woke from her sleep because her hair was yanked violently by Viscountess Arabella, her uncle's wife. The woman dragged her down from the second floor, pulling her across the stairs.
The sharp edges of each step struck her ribs again and again. By the time they reached the last step, Aunt Arabella shoved her into the wall with a loud crash.
Was that the end? No.
Without warning, Uncle Edmund lifted a wooden chair high into the air. She remembered his expression clearly. Burning with fury, with a faint curl at the corner of his lips.
Then he slammed it down toward her thigh. The legs of the chair snapped apart, the splinters cutting deep into her skin.
Josselyn flinched, as if she could still feel the explosion of pain across her body.
"Useless girl! What do you have besides that traitor's blood in your veins, huh?! You should have gone to hell with your parents!"
Her uncle's words still echoed vividly. Josselyn drew a long breath, her tears threatening to fall.
"You remember."
Killian's voice pulled her back to the present.
Josselyn slowly lifted her face. "Your Highness asked me to come here, didn't you?"
Killian frowned slightly. "That does not answer my question."
"No." She stepped past the overturned table. "But this room is a mess. I cannot feel comfortable in a place like this."
"The servants can clean it."
"But you asked me to come."
Silence.
A winter breeze slipped through the tall window, making the curtains sway gently.
Josselyn met his gaze. "If I have to stay here for seven days, then allow me to make this room livable."
"News travels fast."
"You know better than anyone how the palace walls have too many ears and eyes," Josselyn said as she walked toward the broken vase and knelt down. "So perhaps you should not get drunk just anywhere."
"Leave it," Killian said sharply.
"If I cut my hand, you can call a servant," Josselyn replied, glancing briefly at him, still standing a few steps away.
She wanted to see his reaction after mentioning that drunken kiss.
A few seconds passed.
Then heavy footsteps approached.
Josselyn had just looked up when suddenly her chin was seized. A rough kiss followed, crushing against her lips.
Her body froze for a moment.
"This is my palace. Whatever I do is my choice."
When Killian bit down on her lower lip with brutal force, Josselyn reacted instinctively, shoving his chest hard enough that she heard the impact against the marble floor.
"Your Highness…"
Josselyn was ready to release her anger, but her eyes caught the red liquid on Killian's hand first.
"Y-your hand…" she stammered, realizing she had pushed him too hard and he had fallen among the shattered vase.
"Hah… I really need to eat to restore my strength," he said with a crooked smile, as if nothing had happened.
Then he rose and knelt across from her. Without a word, he began picking up the larger shards one by one.
Josselyn held her breath, panic rising.
"You don't have to… your hand should be treated first…"
"You want the room cleaned," Killian cut in without looking at her. "Then we clean it."
We.
The word lingered between them.
They worked in silence. Only the sound of glass scraping, wood shifting, and fabric being pulled filled the room.
Once everything was back in place, Josselyn stood upright and let out a long breath.
"Thank you."
She said it half-heartedly. She still could not release her anger.
He simply looked at her.
"I will treat your wound first, before it scars."
Josselyn scanned the room, then quickly stood when she spotted a wooden box on the table.
She remembered Yorick saying, "In this palace, every royal chamber is equipped with a special case containing medicine and treatment tools."
And it was true. When she opened the box, there were several bottles of dried remedies and clean cloth.
Josselyn took what she needed, along with a bottle of wine beside it, then returned to sit in the chair near the fireplace, across from Killian.
She held the wine bottle and prepared to open it.
"Hey, what are you planning to do with my wine?"
"To clean your wound."
The bottle opened with a soft pop.
"Do you even know how much that costs?"
"Your Highness, your hand is more important," Josselyn replied firmly. Without waiting, she poured it slowly over his wound.
"It will sting a little," she added.
"Too late," Killian muttered, wincing.
After that, he did not complain much. He simply let her wrap his hand.
"The servants prepared warm soup, wheat bread, and bitter tea for you."
Killian stared at his neatly bandaged hand.
"And you plan to leave me again after this?"
"I thought Your Highness would want to rest."
Killian did not answer. Instead, he grabbed the remaining wine bottle and drank it down in one go.
"Your Highness, your stomach is empty…"
Josselyn tried to stop him.
But Killian only let the empty bottle roll away. A cynical smile curved his handsome face.
"Ah… now my stomach feels sick…" he muttered.
Josselyn rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.
"Why don't you ever stop causing trouble," she said without thinking.
Killian leaned closer to her.
"So now you have a reason to stay with me tonight."
He leaned back into the large chair.
"You wouldn't leave me feeling sick all night, would you? And this," he lifted his bandaged hand, "you have to take responsibility for it."
~
"Does my mother really need additional blankets?"
The question came unexpectedly. Just moments ago, this room had witnessed Killian insisting Josselyn feed him, claiming his hand hurt too much to use.
But now, the expression of the twenty-eight-year-old man had changed.
Josselyn set down the spoon and nodded. "This year's winter in Valenroth is harsher. Winds from the north carry moisture. It is bad for the lungs."
"How bad?"
"If her body is weak, it could be dangerous."
Killian's hand paused as he reached for a glass of water.
"Is there another way?"
"Southern trade," Josselyn replied softly. "Wool from there is thicker. Warmer."
Killian fell silent.
His silence made Josselyn's heart pound. She had not said it to provoke him. It was simply the truth.
The fire crackled in the hearth.
"You're thinking about something," Josselyn murmured.
"I never stop thinking."
She hesitated. "About apologizing?"
Killian lifted his head. His gaze sharpened.
"You think I should?"
"I think a son would do anything for his mother."
It was bold. Too bold. Josselyn knew very well that all of this had started because of her.
Because Killian had defended her from Duke Corven's insult.
But Killian did not get angry. He simply stared at the fire a little longer.
~
Morning came with a biting chill.
Josselyn stretched her sore body.
Last night, she had managed to return to her room, though it was very late. The alcohol had made Killian fall asleep sooner.
She winced as she stood.
"Seems like a tiring night."
She turned toward the voice.
Yorick stood at the doorway of the herbal room.
"You startled me."
He stepped closer, studying her face. "You look sleep-deprived."
"I'm fine."
"You're walking stiffly."
Josselyn sighed. "His Highness threw a table."
Yorick raised a brow. "And you cleaned it up?"
"With him."
"With him?" Yorick's tone shifted slightly.
Josselyn nodded, yawning at the same time.
Yorick smiled faintly. He picked up a kettle and poured a warm liquid into a cup. "Drink this."
He handed it to her.
"What is it?"
"A mixture of ginger root, mint leaves, and a little wild honey. For stamina."
"No side effects?"
"None, unless you are allergic to a more comfortable life."
Josselyn smiled faintly and lifted the cup to drink.
She frowned slightly. For a moment, the strange scent of the mixture tickled her nose.
But she did not think much of it and took a few sips.
Warmth slowly spread through her body.
"This seems… effective," Josselyn said with a light smile. Her body did feel lighter.
But unnoticed by her, Yorick smiled mysteriously.
"Of course."