Julian's POV
Relief washed over me when Dr. Thorne confirmed my grandmother would survive. The worst had passed, but her recovery would be long and uncertain. I watched as Aurelia sat vigilantly at the Matriarch's bedside, her slender fingers arranging healing crystals around the hospital bed with practiced precision.
"You should get some rest," I suggested, reaching to touch her shoulder.
She flinched away from my touch, her emerald eyes cold as she glanced up at me. "I'm fine where I am."
The rejection stung, though I knew I deserved far worse. I lingered awkwardly for several minutes, watching the steady rise and fall of my grandmother's chest, feeling utterly useless.
"I could bring you something to eat," I offered.
"I'm not hungry."
Her voice was flat, devoid of the hatred I'd seen earlier but equally devoid of warmth. It was as if I'd become nothing to her—not worth loving, not even worth hating. Just...nothing.
