I walked back into the kitchen, my head spinning but my heart heavier. I was still trembling, still trying to process everything. The breakfast had already been cleared away, and the other maids were back to their chores like nothing had happened.
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do anymore. I kept my head down, moving slowly to the sink to wash some bowls. The room spun for a second, but I blinked it away. Maybe I just needed water. Or rest. Or maybe I needed to cry, but I was too tired to even do that.
I gripped the sink a little tighter. The voices around me sounded far away. My vision began to blur. My hands felt cold. My knees gave out.
Everything around me started to go dark.
But before I hit the floor, someone caught me.
Warm hands. Strong arms. A scent I recognized.
The last thing I saw before everything went black was his face hovering above mine, worry clouding his usually hard eyes.
I woke up slowly, my eyelids heavy. The soft feel of a blanket over my body, the quiet hush of a room... it felt unfamiliar, too peaceful.
"Grumps?" a voice said softly.
I blinked and turned my head.
Sitting by the edge of my bed, arms crossed, brows furrowed, but not in anger. He looked... concerned?
I licked my lips, my throat dry. "Water..."
He stood immediately, grabbed a bottle from the table, and helped me drink. I sipped slowly, never breaking eye contact with him. I couldn’t lie, it was strange seeing this side of him.
"Thanks," I murmured.
"You fainted in the kitchen," he said, sitting again. "Scared the hell out of me."
"Yeah. I was walking by. Saw you wobbling like a drunk goat."
I snorted. "That’s your way of showing you care?"
He smirked a little. "Maybe. You’re still annoying, though."
"And you’re still a jerk."
"Grumps," he said again, this time with a softer tone.
"Stop calling me that."
"I don’t like anything about you right now."
I stared up at the ceiling. The silence stretched too long, too uncomfortably.
"Why are you here, Damon?" I asked finally.
He looked at me for a moment before answering. "I don’t know. I guess... I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"You all abused me," I whispered. "You made my life hell. And now you’re sitting here like you care?"
He looked down, fidgeting with his fingers. "I know."
"You know?" I snapped. "Is that all you have to say?"
"I’m not good with words, Lisa."
"Well, try. Because I deserve more than silence."
"Shut up," he said sharply. "The royal physician said you passed out from stress. You need rest. Stop talking."
I blinked at him. "Don’t tell me to shut up..."
"I said stop talking!" Damon snapped. "Just... stay still and rest."
I looked away, swallowing the pain and humiliation. I hated being in front of him. Weak. Vulnerable. Just then, the door creaked open and Naomi walked in, holding a tray with a kettle, a teacup, a small bowl of hot water, and a neatly folded towel.
She paused as her eyes met mine.
That look... disgust. Pure disgust.
She didn’t say a word. Just walked in like I was nothing but dirt under her shoe. She placed the tray on the table beside my bed, her lips pressed into a tight line.
She turned and left, her silence louder than any insult.
I felt a sting in my chest. A sharp one. Like someone had taken a pin and jabbed it into the softest part of me.
I knew people in this place hated me. I knew. It wasn’t new. But still... it hurt. Every single time.
"She hates me," I whispered, barely able to keep my voice steady. My eyes stayed on the door Naomi had just walked through. The tray she dropped sat quietly on the bedside table, steam curling up from the tea like it was mocking me.
"She’s not important," Damon replied flatly, not even looking up. "Now drink the tea. You need it before you can take your meds."
I stared at the cup. The steam, the scent of herbs, the stupid fancy teacup. Everything about it made my stomach twist.
"I don’t want it," I said.
He looked at me, his jaw tightening. "Lisa."
"I said I don’t want it."
He leaned forward slowly, eyes narrowing like I’d just challenged him to a fight. "Are you trying to be difficult, or are you just naturally stubborn?"
That pushed something in me. Something bitter and broken.
"I don’t want anything from you," I snapped, yanking the covers off me. My legs felt shaky, but I didn’t care. "I can get up. I’m fine."
"No, you’re not." His hand reached out, pressing gently but firmly against my shoulder, pushing me back into the bed. I struggled for a second, but my body betrayed me, weak and tired and aching.
"The physician said your body’s exhausted," Damon continued, his voice sharp. "You were on your feet since 4 a.m., and you haven’t been eating properly. You fainted, Lisa. You fainted in front of everyone."
"I don’t care," I murmured, turning my face to the wall, feeling heat rise in my throat. "Let them see. Let them laugh. I don’t care anymore."
Then I heard him sigh, and his voice came again. Softer this time.
I wasn’t sure I heard him right.
Slowly, I turned my head to face him. He was staring at me, really staring, not with the usual cold look he wore like armor, but something gentler. Still firm, still guarded, but different. His brows were slightly furrowed, his lips set in a straight line, and his eyes... they looked tired. Concerned.
My throat tightened. "Why?"
He didn’t answer right away.
"I don’t know," he admitted quietly. "But when I saw you fall..."
He stopped, shook his head like the memory pissed him off.
"I didn’t like it," he said. "I didn’t like the way my chest felt. Or the way everything just... froze."
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my breathing calm, but it wasn’t working.
"You’re not supposed to care," I whispered. "None of you are. You made that clear from day one."
His jaw clenched again, and he leaned back, rubbing a hand down his face.
I stared at him. Not saying a word.
Then he nodded toward the tea. "Please. Just drink it. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone right now. Just... rest."
I looked at the cup again. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want anything from him. But I also didn’t want to feel this dizzy anymore. I didn’t want to faint again.
Slowly, I reached out and took the cup in my hands. Damon didn’t move or say anything. He just watched.