CHAPTER 33: 30: PANIC.

It was evening by the time they got back home.

Edward let out a small yawn as he finally saw the silhouette of the Myrvale manor come in to view on the horizon.

"Finally..." He mumbled, his blinking away the moisture in his eyes.

He leaned back on his seat, processing what had just happened to him.

They had gotten ambushed.

And Calen had probably... killed them all.

Now for some reason he had decided to be his driver.

Well, Edward knew the reason why. He was still a little puzzled about why he couldn’t have found anyone else in a nearby town.

By the time they reached the estate, the sun was already dipping into the earth, and darkness was taking over the sky, the midnight blue reminding Edward a little of Selene.

"Son!"

The duke was already waiting by the main entrance when the carriage came to a halt.

He helped Edward get off, and then suddenly looked at Calen and his bloodied armour, his expression a little confused.

"What happened to the driver?"

Calen hesitated, getting off the carriage before speaking.

"Its my fault your grace, I should have been more careful." He bowed deeply not daring to look at the duke.

The duke gave him a puzzled stare, then looked back at Edward.

It was only then that his gaze fell onto the covered wound in his legs.

His expression twisted into something resembling terror, and he knelt on the ground holding Edward close.

"Are you alright...?" The poor man looked like he had just been punched in the gut.

Edward didn’t really know how to respond to his shock, so he just meekly gave him a nod.

After staring at him for another moment, the duke suddenly gathered him into a tight embrace.

"Are you alright...?" The poor man looked like he’d just been punched in the gut. His arms trembled as they wrapped around Edward, clutching him as if he might disappear again.

Edward stiffened. "I-I’m fine, Father, really."

The duke didn’t seem convinced. He pulled back slightly, scanning him up and down, his hands hovering over Edward’s shoulders and arms like he expected something to break under his touch. ]

"Does it hurt anywhere else? Your hands? Your back? Calen, what happened?" He turned to Calen.

Calen straightened at once, his expression composed but voice low. "We were ambushed, Your Grace. A small group. Bandits, most likely—though their equipment was too clean for simple thieves."

The duke’s gaze sharpened immediately. "Bandits?"

"Yes. They struck near the western ridge, just before we crossed into the valley. They were dealt with swiftly, but the young master’s leg was grazed during the skirmish. My failure entirely."

Edward winced at how rigid Calen’s tone was—not defensive, not afraid, just filled with quiet shame.

"It’s not as bad as it sounds," Edward said quickly, waving his hands. "Really, it’s barely a scratch. Calen handled them before I could even blink."

The duke turned toward him, horror flickering in his expression. "You were attacked, and you call it a scratch

?"

Edward hesitated. "Well... yes?"

The silence that followed was so thick he could practically hear his own heartbeat.

"Your Grace," Calen said again, bowing deeply, "I accept full responsibility-"

"Oh, stop that," the duke interrupted, exasperation bleeding through his relief. "You saved his life, I’m sure. But gods above, you might’ve mentioned you were attacked before strolling in like nothing happened!"

Before either could respond, another voice drifted down the corridor.

"If panic could heal wounds, Your Grace, I’d advise keeping at it."

Elias Rowan Aldric appeared at the end of the hall, his plain robe whispering against the polished stone. His grey eyes flickered faintly in the dimming light, sharp and knowing.

The duke shot him a look. "Don’t start, Elias."

"I’m not starting," Elias said mildly, already striding over to Edward. "I’m finishing before you faint from worry."

Edward blinked as Elias crouched beside him, examining the bandaged leg with calm detachment. His fingers brushed lightly over the edge of the wound, and a faint hum filled the air—subtle, almost like the low note of a harp string.

After a moment, Elias exhaled through his nose. "A surface cut. Clean, not poisoned. Nothing a day’s rest won’t mend."

The duke let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging with visible relief. "Thank the gods."

Elias smiled faintly. "Indeed. Though I imagine the gods had little to do with it, your knight here seems capable enough."

Calen didn’t move, his expression unreadable.

Edward stepped in, hoping to lighten the mood. "He’s good at scaring people too."

That earned the faintest twitch of amusement from Elias and a very tired look from his father.

"Enough," the duke muttered, rubbing his temple. "You are to rest for the evening, no arguments. I’ll have dinner brought to your room."

Edward nodded, relieved that the storm seemed to be passing. "Alright."

Calen, still standing a few paces behind, bowed once more. "If you’ll allow it, I’ll keep watch outside the young master’s room tonight."

The duke hesitated, then gave him a look that said he understood more than he let on. "Very well. See to it he gets there safely."

When they finally started toward the main hall, the weight of the day seemed to settle in Edward’s limbs. His father’s footsteps faded behind him, Elias’s robe whispered away in another direction, and soon it was just him and Calen in the quiet corridor.

Neither spoke. The light from the sconces cast long shadows along the walls, flickering gold against the stone.

Edward sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "You didn’t have to take the blame, you know."

Calen’s expression didn’t change. "I am responsible for your safety, young master."

"Still," Edward muttered, "I don’t want people getting scolded because of me."

"You misunderstand," Calen said simply, opening the door to Edward’s chambers. "It’s not about blame. It’s duty."

The words lingered in the air even after he stepped back and bowed.

Edward watched him for a moment before quietly entering the room and closing the door behind him.

He leaned against the wood and exhaled, eyes falling shut.

Everything felt too heavy again. The ambush, the trip to Verdigris, Selene, his father’s worry—it all blurred together into a tangled mess he didn’t have the energy to sort through.

He kicked off his boots and sank onto the bed, staring at the ceiling for a long while.

And then-

[ Bond Progress: 3% (Selene Verdigris) ]

Edward groaned, dragging a pillow over his face. "Oh, screw off."

The faint hum of the system faded, leaving him alone with the silence and the ghost of Selene’s midnight eyes lingering stubbornly in his mind.