"You should get some sleep. The hour has grown late," Hanon said to Aeloria as he pushed back his chair and rose from the table. The remnants of their simple meal lay scattered between them—empty bowls, a half-eaten wheat cake, and a few scattered pieces of meat.
A quiet realization settled over her. She glanced toward the corner of the room where the lone bed stood. She had been here for many nights now, recovering beneath his watchful care. Yet only one bed occupied the chamber. Where, then, had he been sleeping all this while?
"Hey, Hanon," she called softly, rising from her seat. She crossed the creaking floorboards and lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, the mattress yielding with a faint rustle beneath her weight. She smoothed the blanket absently with her fingers, her eyes fixed on him.
"Yes?" He turned from the table, pausing in his task. "Is something troubling you?"
His hands moved with quiet precision as he gathered the evening's dishes. He scraped the leftover scraps onto a single plate, placing it aside, he stacked the others atop one another in a neat, balanced tower.
"Where have you been sleeping all this while?" she asked, tilting her head as she watched the careful way he worked, as though every motion was measured and deliberate.
Hanon paused for the briefest moment, then offered a gentle, reassuring smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "You need not concern yourself with me. I sleep well enough each night. You should focus on getting your strength back, now that your wounds have all healed."
He lifted the stack of plates carefully, cradling them against his chest as he moved toward the door.
"I will be out for a short while," he said, his fingers already on the door handle. "Make yourself comfortable and rest."
Aeloria leaned forward slightly. "Where are you going at this hour?" unbidden curiosity colored her tone. For a man so cautious, so guarded in his words and movements, he vanished into the night far more often than she expected.
"There is a small matter I need to attend to," he replied evenly. "I will return before long."
He opened the door just wide enough to slip through, then pulled it shut behind him with a soft, deliberate click.
Aeloria stared at the closed door for a long while, listening as his footsteps receded down the corridor and faded entirely. The inn settled around her—the distant murmur of voices from the room below, the occasional groan of old timber, the faint patter of lingering rain against the roof.
At last she turned away. She fluffed the pillow with a few firm pats, then lay back on the bed, drawing the blanket high beneath her chin. A cool breeze slipped through the opened window, carrying the clean, earthy scent of the world washed anew by rain. The candle on the bedside table glowed low, casting wavering shadows across the walls. Her eyelids grew heavy, and without marking the moment, she drifted into sleep.
…
Aeloria stirred slowly sometime later, a languid stretch rippling through her limbs. Moonlight poured through the window in a broad silver stream, bathing the chamber in pale luminescence. She pushed herself upright, rubbing her eyes, and gazed outward. A full moon hung low and brilliant in the sky, its light sharp enough to etch the edges of drifting clouds.
Her gaze shifted downward.
Hanon lay on the bare floorboards near the foot of the bed, curled on his side beneath a single threadbare blanket that scarcely covered him. He had his left arm tucked beneath his head for a pillow.
The sight struck her like a quiet blow. 'Had he been sleeping on the cold floor every night?' The room carried a deep chill from the cold breeze. Gooseflesh rose on her arms even beneath the covers.
Only then did she notice the extra blanket folded carefully around her own shoulders—tucked with gentle precision at the edges, layered atop the first to keep the cold at bay.
A soft ache filled her chest. She slipped from the bed, peeling the upper blanket from herself and knelt beside him. With careful movements she spread it over his sleeping form, tucking it gently around his shoulders.
Then she reached for one of the two pillows she had been using. Lifting it softly, she leaned forward to put it under his head.
Hanon stirred at once. His eyes opened, gleaming faintly in the moonlight as they found hers—those strange, vertical slits that marked the hunger she carried within, those purple eyes that defined the cannibal.
"You are awake already?" he murmured, his voice roughened by sleep.
"You should cover yourself well," she answered quietly, her breath stirring the air between them. "The floor is far too cold. You will catch a cold."
She extended the pillow toward him again. "Take this."
He hesitated, his gaze lingering on her face.
"Take it, or I'll be forced to reconsider my diet. I'm beginning to starve, after all."
He reached out and accepted the pillow swiftly, pulling it beneath his head with a murmur, "Thank you."
Aeloria rose and returned to the bed. She lay down once more but couldn't sleep. She stared upward at the ceiling.
For the first time since she opened her eyes in the inn, she thought of the man in black.
Thoughts kept swirling through Aeloria's mind the rest of the night, chasing away any chance of sleep.
'Just who is he? How can one ordinary-looking man be that strong? And why did it take my body so long to heal this time? The sharp pain is finally gone, but something still feels off—like I haven't fully gotten my strength back. More than that, what am I supposed to do now? I can't keep staying here forever. Should I try going back home? Or maybe pick a completely different kingdom and start over?
The same questions looped over and over, refusing to let her rest. She turned onto her side, stared at the wall for a while, then rolled onto her back and watched faint moonlight shift across the ceiling. Hours passed like that until the first hint of morning light finally showed through the window.
…
Another month went by faster than she expected. One more ordinary morning arrived.
Aeloria woke up and looked around the quiet room. As usual, Hanon was already gone. The thin blanket was neatly folded and stacked on top of the pillow at the spot where he always slept. No sign he'd even been there except for the faint warmth still lingering in the air.
She had been living with him for a little over two months now. He always treated her well—brought her meals, asked how she was feeling, made sure the room stayed warm enough at night. But he left the inn a lot during the day, sometimes for hours. Most of the time she just sat by the window or paced the small space, bored out of her mind with nothing to do except think.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching her arms high above her head. Her muscles felt good—no more tightness or aches. She rolled her shoulders, bent side to side, testing everything. Finally, completely healed.
The door opened with its familiar creak, and Hanon walked in carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle that smelled like fresh bread and warm meat. He kicked the door shut behind him with his heel and gave her a quick smile.
"Good morning, Aeloria. Sleep okay?"
"Morning," she answered, dropping her arms. "Yeah, fine. And I'm good—really good. I'm completely healed now."
His face brightened. "That's great to hear." He crossed the room and set the food on the small table, then pulled out the chair and sat down across from her usual spot. "Really glad about that."
She moved to the table and sat as well, watching him unwrap the bread. Steam rose from it, making her stomach rumble quietly.
He tore off a piece for himself but didn't eat right away. Instead, he looked at her seriously. "There's something I need to talk to you about."
Aeloria paused with her hand halfway to the bread. "Okay. What is it?"
He took a slow breath. "I've liked having you around these past months—more than I thought I would. But now that you're better… what are your plans? What do you want to do next?"
There it is. The question she had been avoiding. She lowered her hand and stared at the table for a moment. 'He's right—I can't stay here forever. I already know he delayed leaving this inn because of me. He probably would have moved on weeks ago if I hadn't needed help. Now it's time I figure things out.'
Hanon watched her quietly, then went on. "I'm only asking because I'm leaving this place in a week. The room's paid up until then, but after that I'll be moving on." He paused, then added more softly, "There's something else I've been curious about. Why did your people leave you behind after that fight? Did they really betray you?"
Aeloria shook her head. "They didn't betray me. They didn't leave me on purpose."
She started talking—slowly at first, then steadier. She told him everything she remembered: how the man in black had shown up on the battlefield, how he moved faster and hit harder than anyone she'd ever faced, how he had toyed with her like it was a game, breaking her bones while smiling the whole time.
Hanon listened without moving, his piece of bread forgotten in his hand. When she finished, the color had drained from his face. Hanon's hand trembled, the bread falling onto the table. For the first time since she'd known him, he looked genuinely scared.
"There's… there's only one person who fits what you described," he whispered. "The only king who travels by himself, escorted by a single man, Blank. He always fights on the front lines. Lucius L. Draven is his name."
He leaned back in the chair, still staring at her like he was seeing her differently. "I don't even know what to think right now—should I be more scared of him… or of the woman who walked away with her life from a fight with him?"
Aeloria frowned. "Lucius L. Draven. I've heard that name before."
"Of course you would have." Hanon rubbed a hand over his face, trying to shake off the shock. "The stories about that monster make cannibal rumors sound almost good to the ear. At least the cannibal kills to eat. He fights because he enjoys the sound of things breaking."
Aeloria stayed quiet for a moment, letting that sink in. "So that's who he was."
Hanon nodded. Then his expression softened, turning a little sad. "That aside, since your people didn't abandon you… are you going back to your kingdom?"
"No." The word came out firm. "I'm going somewhere else."
"I see." He studied her face and clearly heard the uncertainty she hadn't managed to hide. But he didn't push. "Which kingdom would you go to, then?"
She shrugged. "I haven't decided yet."
Hanon picked at the bread for a few seconds, thinking. Then he looked up again. "Say… why don't you come with me? I travel around anyway—never stay in one place too long. You could see more of the world, get a better feel for what's out there. After that, you'll probably know what you want to do next. Who knows, you might even change your mind about going home."
Aeloria felt her eyes widen. A slow warmth spread through her chest. "You really wouldn't mind?"
He smiled—small, but real. "Not even a little. Truth is, I've liked having you around. A lot more than I expected."
She couldn't help it; a matching smile tugged at her lips. For the first time in months, something felt almost easy.
"Yeah," she said quietly. "I think I would like that."