A cursed mark

 The curtains were slightly open while faint sunlight flickered in through the bind. The subtle sounds of the crackling of flames continued to echo in the room occupied by just 3. 

 Abrielle, who was lying motionless on the bed, and Cedric, who had an unusually soft gaze that even if he was looking at himself he would not believe it. It would be ridiculous if he was staring at her that way. He didn't even know when he started to carry her in such a tender gaze either. 

 Zoltana walked slowly towards them. She didn't want to ruin their moment, but she wanted to save her mistress, who she owed her life to. Leaving as a maid in the castle was way more comfortable than swindling people on the streets. 

 Her lips parted, she was hesitant to talk just looking at the way Cedric's thumb was rubbing Abrielle's cheeks. "What do you want to say?" His voice was harsh, but he reduced the tone strangely like he was considering Abrielle.