Aria woke in darkness, a dull ache tormenting every muscle. She tried to move, but her entire body was numb. The strong smell of herbs filled her nostrils, and she realized she was lying on a soft bed, not the rough straw in her tent.
"You're awake?"
Dante's deep voice resonated right beside her. Aria slowly opened her eyes, seeing his face close to hers. The faint candlelight illuminated his weary, anxious expression. He was still in his armor, but his helmet was off, his dark hair disheveled, and his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
"Dante..." Aria whispered, her throat parched.
He immediately helped her up, bringing a cup of water to her lips. "Drink. You've been unconscious for three days."
Aria swallowed each sip, feeling life slowly return to her. She looked into Dante's eyes. "The poison...?"
"Difficult," he admitted, his voice filled with relief but also not hiding the fear he had endured. "I had to send men everywhere to find healers and rare herbs. Fortunately, you pulled through." He reached out, gently caressing her hair, then squeezed her hand tightly. "I thought... I would lose you."
Dante's words were surprisingly sincere, making Aria's heart skip a beat. A stone-cold, tyrannical general could utter such words. It proved she was truly important to him, more than just an advisor or a possession.
"How was the battlefield?" Aria asked, trying to change the subject.
Dante's face immediately returned to its cold demeanor. "The enemy retreated. We pursued, but they vanished too quickly. They are not ordinary rebels." He looked at Aria, his eyes sharp. "Who do you think they are? And that poisoned arrow..."
Aria closed her eyes, trying to recall the last details before she fainted. "That arrow wasn't shot by the main army. It was from a hidden marksman. And their attire... I've never seen such armor and weapons here."
Dante nodded, his face thoughtful. "I thought so too. It seems we are facing a new enemy, more mysterious and dangerous." He squeezed Aria's hand tighter. "But for now, you must rest. I'll take care of everything else."
Aria felt the warmth from his hand, and a strange sense of security enveloped her. She had once been strong and independent, but now, she found herself relying on Dante more than she thought.
That night, Dante didn't leave. He sat beside her bed, his eyes never leaving her. Although he didn't touch her, his presence filled the tent, bringing a sense of peace Aria had never experienced in this world. She drifted into sleep, feeling truly safe for the first time in days.
As she drifted off, Dante leaned down slightly, placing a kiss on her forehead. "You are not just my advisor, Aria," he whispered, "you are my hope. And I will not let anyone take that hope from me." His eyes looked out of the tent, where darkness enveloped the camp, a determined and defiant look on his face.