CHAPTER 266: PERSONAL SPACE

Not entirely...

He still had on his pants, but his shirt, boots, and whatever dignity he had left was gone.

Leonardo felt like he was losing his mind.

Memories from the night before hit him in pieces; the fire dying out, Cora’s matter-of-fact lecture about body heat, and him– fainting like some fragile, overheated idiot at the end of it.

He winced.

Oh, perfect. Very dignified

Carefully, as if defusing a trap, he tried to ease himself away without waking her. But the movement made her stir. Her eyes fluttered open just as he was halfway through an internal meltdown.

Their gazes met.

"Morning," she greeted first, her voice low and rough from sleep. "Feeling better?"

Leonardo’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, like a fish caught in air. But he found his voice quickly. "Where are my clothes? You– you really undressed me?"

"Cause you fainted," she replied, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "I didn’t exactly have a choice. Relax, I didn’t look."

She paused before adding:

"Much."

Leonardo gasped, but it sounded like a plea for divine intervention. He checked his belt just to be sure it hadn’t been tampered with. He felt heat flood his face, blooming red enough to shame the dawn.

As Cora got out of bed, stretching languidly, she looked utterly unbothered, like the whole thing had been nothing more than a casual morning routine.

Leonardo let out a shaky breath.

He wasn’t sure which stung more: the mortification, or the maddening fact that she looked so composed while he felt like his soul had fled his body. It made his own panic feel— excessive. But he was a man raised on discipline and moral restraint after all. His reaction was perfectly reasonable– or so he believed.

"You should be thanking me," Cora proceeded to say, her tone light but pointing. "Not gaping like a fish. You’d have frozen stiff otherwise."

"I think I did freeze stiff," he muttered under his breath, sounding personally wronged by the universe.

Cora either didn’t hear him or chose not to. She brushed her hair back, glancing toward the shuttered window. "We need to get ready."

As she walked away to prepare, Leonardo collapsed back onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling as if it might offer absolution. He then let out a long defeated sigh.

**********

The air felt crisp, carrying the promise of the coming winter. It wasn’t here yet, but it lingered close– close enough you could almost taste it in the wind.

Cora led the way through the thinning trees, her cloak drawn tight against the chill. She kept her eyes on the winding path ahead, on anything but the memories of last night.

She shouldn’t have cared. She shouldn’t have felt anything about it either. She’d only done what was necessary, that was all. Logic. Survival. And yet every time she glanced back and caught sight of Leonardo trailing behind her, she felt a twinge she couldn’t explain.

He wasn’t saying much. His usual easy confidence that somehow made danger feel even lighter was nowhere to be found. And maybe that was what unsettled her most– seeing him, of all people, flustered and red-faced and stammering like a rookie.

Cora pressed her lips together, shaking the thought away. It was absurd.

Leonardo was charming, yes— disarmingly so. Too pretty for his own good, with that infuriating blend of sharp and soft that made it hard to decide if he was more beautiful than handsome. The curve of his mouth, the long lashes, the quiet poise that could tilt between masculinity and delicateness in the same breath– it all felt unfair somehow.

Her face warmed as her mind betrayed her, recalling the faint lines of muscle under pale skin, the way his shoulders looked in the morning light as he dressed up earlier. It was ridiculous, really. All that sudden, traitorous attraction directed at a man who could barely look at a woman in her half garment without either screaming or fainting from sheer mortification.

Is he even aware he’d be the one to top a woman someday?

Cora quickened her pace, hoping the cold wind would cool her cheeks before he noticed.

Behind her, Leonardo let out a soft sigh, tugging his cloak tighter around him.

"Are you feeling okay?" Cora asked without looking back. "Still thinking about how I saved your life?"

"Still trying to forget it, actually," he replied flatly.

When the teasing faded, Cora unfolded the worn map from her satchel. The parchment fluttered in the cold breeze, the edges frayed from constant handling. She traced a finger along the faded ink, stopping near a cluster of ridges marked with crimson symbols.

"The witches’ hideout should be somewhere near the eastern ridges. Look, if we keep to the old logging trail, we can make it before nightfall. Sounds about right, am I right?"

Leonardo leaned in to see. "How did Don even draw this? We haven’t even been here for him to capture the layout so accurately. It’s quite alarming."

"A source, maybe?" Cora shrugged.

But even if they located the hideout, what would they do from there?

As they continued to walk, Cora couldn’t help but notice how the morning light caught his hair, turning its soft strands into liquid gold.

Last night meant nothing, so why did it feel like the air between them had shifted, fragile, uncertain and quietly warm?

Cora froze when she spotted a movement ahead. A cluster of guards were patrolling the trail, their armors catching glints of light through the trees.

Her heart lurched.

They were still searching for them.

"Oh no. Hide, hide, hide."

She glanced around frantically, but before she could act, Leonardo grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward a nearby fallen tree covered in moss and hanging vines. The trunk was wide enough to hide them both if they stayed close.

He pressed her against the rough bark, stepping in just enough to keep them both out of sight. The space between them vanished entirely, his arms braced beside her, his breath ghosting her cheek.

Cora dared not move.

The guard’s footsteps and their conversations drew nearer, tightening the air around them. Her pulse thundered in her ears, not just from fear, but from how impossibly close he was– close enough that she could see the sunlight still caught in his lashes. One wrong move, and she might accidentally kiss him- likely giving the poor man a stroke in the process.