Chapter 4 – Embers of Trust

“Again?” Draven raised an eyebrow as Sepharine entered with the tea tray.

“It’s not poison,” she said dryly, setting it down.

“I didn’t say it was.”

“You looked like you thought it.”

“I just didn’t expect you to come back after yesterday.”

Sepharine shrugged. “You bled on the good rug. Someone has to keep things civilized.”

A corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.

She rolled the tray beside his chair. “Try the new blend. I added frostroot. It eases nerve inflammation.”

He didn’t move.

“I’ll take your silence as suspicious approval,” she added.

He took the cup and sipped. His fingers trembled slightly, but he didn’t spill.

Outside, snow melted from the eaves. Sunlight filtered through sheer curtains.

Sepharine knelt beside his legs, glancing up. “May I?”

He hesitated—then nodded.

She began massaging gently. He flinched.

“Too much?”

“No.” His voice was hoarse. “Just… different.”

Moments passed. Then—