Rory was still fighting to steady her breathing when the storm inside Yuel abruptly fractured.
Clarity struck him like a blade of cold light cutting through fog. The wild intensity that had seized him moments earlier shattered, replaced by sharp, immediate fear.
His expression shifted, panic flickering openly across his usually composed features as he reached for Rory's wrist. His fingers trembled as they pressed lightly against her skin, searching desperately for confirmation—searching for life.
The moment he felt it—the steady, unmistakable pulse beneath her veins—his shoulders sagged.
A long, uneven breath escaped him, relief washing through his body in a slow, cleansing tide, as though the chaos clawing at his mind had finally loosened its grip.
"I'm so sorry… Female Master," Yuel whispered. His voice was low, raw with regret, stripped of its earlier confidence. "I shouldn't have… I lost myself for a moment."
