Sunny quickly turned the last corner, where he sensed the service hall would be, but what he encountered made him stop dead in his tracks. There was a crowd, dozens of people, walking away with their heads bowed, some looking indifferent, and others with expressions of visible relief. His heart tightened, and a bitter taste filled his mouth.
'Am I late? The guard told me there was still time!'
Sunny clenched his jaw and looked at the crowd, frantic. Swallowing his nervousness for the moment, he approached an older-looking woman, in her forties, he reckoned. In his haste and the pressure of the moment, he grabbed her shoulder abruptly. The woman turned to look at him, confused and somewhat startled, but Sunny didn't give her a chance to recoil.
"Excuse me, ma'am, is the place closed? Wasn't there supposed to be more time for service?" he asked rapidly.
The woman blinked a few times at his brusqueness. After a few seconds, she regained her composure and nodded.
"That's right, it's been postponed because an incident occurred..." she replied, lowering her voice at the end with an anguished expression. "It was a scandal, so much blood. Ah, it was only a few minutes ago, but I don't want to remember it, it breaks my heart. I'm a mother too, you know? If that had been my little girl... Excuse me, but please ask someone else."
The distraught woman hurried away without looking back.
Sunny could only arch his eyebrows at how emotional the woman had become. Though she had answered him, she left him with more questions than answers. Despite his growing doubts, he felt a wave of relief.
'It's only been postponed... I almost had a nervous breakdown. Getting stuck in an interrogation would be terrible for my plans... But postponed until when?'
Driven by the lack of answers, he peered through the retreating crowd and began to push his way through.
"Excuse me... Sorry... Pardon me," Sunny apologized, moving against the tide of people.
He slipped through the throng; at one point, he got wedged between two burly men, nearly falling over when he finally squeezed past. He kept moving until he finally broke free from the main cluster. Now able to move more easily, Sunny walked through the wider spaces, getting closer to the end of the sea of people. Along the way, he inadvertently overheard whispers from those nearby.
"I swear on my sainted mother's grave, I saw her bite the girl! With my own eyes!" a man said, quickly disappearing into the crowd behind him.
That brief statement, combined with the woman's words, sparked a flicker of curiosity. It wasn't his business to pay attention to trifles, yet he felt particularly intrigued. That intrigue only deepened when he spotted a pool of blood near the reception desk.
Dodging the last person in his path, Sunny left the wave of people behind. He took a quick glance at the architecture before focusing on two guards standing parallel to the great door. He walked toward them, catching their attention.
"Hey! You, you must leave. We are closing," the guard barked, staring at him.
Sunny nodded and, now calmer, allowed himself to show more courtesy. He gave a quick bow of respect.
"My apologies, but I'm confused and hope you can help. I've just arrived, and everyone is leaving early. Is it true the service day has been postponed?"
"Yes, it will be held on another day," the guard replied curtly.
At the confirmation, Sunny's heart finally settled, and he let out a sigh.
'I'll be here first thing tomorrow. No, I'll sleep here and be the first one seen,' he decided.
Having obtained the necessary information, he had no reason to keep bothering them. Sunny was about to turn around and follow the man's orders, but his eyes drifted once more to the bloody floor; curiosity stung too much.
"One last thing... what's with that blood?"
The guard remained silent, hesitating. Behind him, another guard, his partner, grabbed his shoulder. When the first guard looked at him, his partner shook his head with a complicated expression. The guard attending Sunny looked back with an apologetic gaze.
"I can't share the details, but there was a scene that forced us to postpone the day. Now, I must ask you to lea—" The man's voice died in his throat. His eyes widened, and he froze.
Sunny tilted his head and looked at the other guard, who looked even worse.
"Master Sunless?" a woman's voice drifted from behind him, weak, familiar, yet unrecognizable all at once.
He turned, but stopped halfway, shocked when he saw who was standing there, or more specifically, the state she was in. Her alabaster hair was disheveled, her gaze lost and devoid of light. Her expression was anything but well. But all of that paled in comparison to the blood staining her face; it started from her lips and trailed down her neck in streaks of dried crimson. For a moment, his mind went blank.
Morgan stared at him fixedly; it was almost imperceptible, but a tiny spark of light returned to her eyes.
"Princess Morgan?" Sunny blurted out.
Morgan narrowed her eyes while continuing to pierce him with her gaze. Her dejected expression shifted subtly into one of surprise. She covered her mouth with a hand and coughed.
"I mean... are you Master Sunless? From the famous coffee shop?" she reformulated clumsily.
"Yes... that's right, it's me." Sunny couldn't hide the bewilderment in his voice; he used a reserved tone, and his posture made him look intimidated.
"A pleasure, then," Morgan smiled. She didn't realize it, but she looked macabre with all that blood covering her face. The guards behind her winced and swallowed audibly.
Sunny, however, didn't look away; he looked her straight in the eyes. A silence formed, as tense as it was awkward. Morgan looked at Sunny with a hollowness, yet faint traces of emotion escaped through subtle gestures, like the way her posture inclined toward him.
Sunny didn't dare move a muscle for reasons he didn't quite understand; he was rigid.
"Tell me... could you follow me for a moment?"
After asking the question, Morgan took a few steps toward him. Sunny was about to turn, but without even letting him respond, she abruptly grabbed his hand and pulled him, forcing him to walk in her direction. At the first tug, he nearly tripped.
"Hey! Of course I could, bu—" He cut himself off as he stumbled again.
Sunny wanted to protest, but seeing her advancing implacably, he realized he would be completely ignored. But that wasn't the only reason he stayed silent. He swallowed his complaints; in retrospect, the situation he had just walked into could be the worst of all. He had to watch his words.
He was no longer just in danger from Morgan, but from the entire clan. His only relief was that if they truly wanted him dead, Sunny would already be fighting for his life by now. He still distrusted her, of course, but ruling out imminent death, he opted to maintain his strategy of laying low—or at least trying to salvage the remains of that plan. He had to stay on the sidelines. The two guards watched the scene perplexed, with pity. The last thing he heard from the guard who had served him was a word of sympathy.
"May the Force be with you..."
Morgan kept her eyes fixed forward. The wounds on her limbs were punished by the brusqueness of her movements. Thanks to her Saint body, the wounds were already closing and had stopped bleeding, but they tore open again. She kept moving without paying much attention.
Blood trickled down her armor; a few drops escaped through a gap between the plates.
Morgan felt nothing; she felt like she was in the clouds, floating in space. Everything was spinning, and she was merely a witness to the world moving around her. The thundering feelings that had made her collapse had vanished in an instant; a part of her lay dormant in her chest, she felt it as a persistent void, but in her state, this clear sign that something was wrong was buried by indifference.
Even meeting Master Sunless didn't change this significantly, but of all the gazes she had received today, his was by far the most comfortable. Morgan let herself be carried away. The idea of tormenting him a little, even in her current state, seemed promisingly fun.
She fantasized about the entertainment his company had provided that afternoon a month ago when she had drowned her sorrows. The hand she held was constantly jerked as the man it belonged to tripped due to the speed at which she was walking, never quite managing to match her pace.
After walking through the labyrinthine corridors of the castle for a while, Morgan suddenly turned toward a door, turned the handle, and entered hastily. Pulling Master Sunless inside, she immediately closed the door. Morgan turned around and offered him a formal smile—the one she had practiced for years—but this time, it wasn't particularly convincing.
"Please, make yourself comfortable. Sit wherever you like." Morgan gestured with her hand toward the sofas in the room.
The space they had entered had a subtle, homey appearance, naturally because it was conceived as a place where guards and castle staff could find a moment of rest. There were a few sofas, a table with chairs, and a perpetually lit chandelier that bathed the room in warm light. Rooms like this were scattered throughout the castle.
Sunny found himself speechless. He scanned the space he had been abruptly brought into. After orienting himself, he gave Morgan an uncertain look.
"Is something wrong, Master Sunless? Please, sit down, let's chat for a bit," she smiled, trying to sound hospitable.
"I'm surprised, this is all very sudden. Why do you wish to speak with me specifically?" Sunny's voice sounded cautious; he visibly shrank back, taking a step away.
Morgan took two elegant steps toward him, threatening to invade his personal space.
"Ah... Well, that's because..." Her eyes wandered to one side and then the other as if she were searching for something; she straightened up subtly before looking back at Master Sunless.
"...I've heard that you are a funny man and... besides, I would like to do some business with you."
Their gazes met.
Sunny watched her with guarded intensity, while Morgan, strangely, reflected nothing in hers—they were devoid of emotion.
"Forgive me if I sound bold, Princess Morgan, but couldn't we have this chat at another time?"
Morgan's smile vanished for a moment, and for an instant, he could see she was bewildered; she hadn't even considered the possibility of a negative response. She had to improvise.
"First of all, tell me, what brings you here, Master Sunless?"
"I came to pay my taxes, although apparently something happened shortly before I arrived and they were postponed until tomorrow." His uncomfortable expression did not relax for a single second.
Morgan tensed when she heard him; she couldn't hide it effectively. Still, she pressed on with her improvised plan.
"It seems you were running a bit late, how careless... So I have a proposal: how about you stay and talk with me for a while, and in exchange, your taxes are waived?"
Sunny's eyes widened slightly. He didn't have to consider the idea for long; his shoulders slumped, and he let out a sigh.
"You've got me. Let's talk," he huffed in surrender.
Morgan's false, poorly acted smile was reassembled. She remained ignorant of how unsettling she looked with the blood adorning her face.
"Follow me."
Morgan turned toward the L-shaped couches. She gestured with her hand for him to sit. Sunny sat where indicated, on the shorter section, and Morgan followed, sitting on the other side of the couch, but she did so close enough that their knees almost touched.
"What business do you have in mind?"
"My, straight to the point!" Morgan seemed to laugh.
She fell silent at his question; she was trying to invent a business deal that made sense. She looked around, searching for a clue or something to latch onto; her eyes settled on an old plate with cookie crumbs on a nearby table. Several ideas, each more far-fetched than the last, appeared like a sequence of photographs. Her mental projector stopped on one.
'Bingo.'
Morgan brought her hands together as if about to clap.
"I would like to know if you are available to provide us with snacks periodically. They would be for our meetings, so I wouldn't ask for anything too elaborate... cookies, perhaps. What do you say?"
"It's possible, I'll have to think about it. It's not a decision I can make in a single moment... Besides, I have a few more doubts: why me? I understand you have your own cooks here."
Morgan almost jumped; her eyes darted around the room again. At that moment, a mischievous idea occurred to her: the purpose of bringing him here was to make him nervous. She leaned toward him, her knees brushing his; for the second time, she invaded his personal space.
"What happens is that I want you—" Morgan bit her lip, cutting herself off. Even if she intended to annoy him, she certainly hadn't meant to say that.
Sunny leaned back into the sofa. He swallowed hard; he was already nervous and tense since Morgan had dragged him along against his will, but the emotional intensity she was displaying threw him off more than when she had introduced herself with a different name at the emporium.
Everything about her screamed abnormality. Not even here, with her real identity and in her own home, was she behaving as he remembered.
When Morgan leaned toward him, he finally noticed an important detail, and all his previous nervousness vanished. Sunny focused on the blood leaking from her armor—fresh blood. He had smelled blood from the start, but he had mistaken it for the pool in the hall. This scent of blood belonged to her; his tense expression deepened. Morgan coughed, clearing her throat.
"They want you. You've become well-known around here; even a trusted acquaintance has told me very good things about your hand in the kitchen."
When Morgan finished her explanation, she stared at Sunny, who had leaned back. Her attempt to make him uncomfortable was working, though it seemed she had gone a bit too far; the complicated expression on Master Sunless's face confirmed her suspicions.
Even if he looked at her like that, she didn't feel bad. After drawing back, both remained in silence. Sunny sat forward again and looked at Morgan, who in turn was watching him expectantly; more than that, her posture and constant anxious movements revealed how restless she was.
Sunny had no real interest in continuing to talk to her; he seriously suspected her proposal was nothing more than an excuse to keep him there. It didn't require much thought. However, he briefly reconsidered the idea of being in danger but discarded it again. The lack of logic in this situation unsettled him; Sunny didn't understand what his role was or what she wanted from him.
He set aside his attempts to stay on the sidelines. Too many things didn't add up, and the blood was just the icing on a cake of incongruities.
"Forgive me, Princess Morgan, I have to ask you a few questions, if you'll allow it, of course."
She nodded, leaning toward him with interest.
"Tell me, I will answer all your questions," Morgan spoke in a playful tone, barely leaving space between his words and hers.
Sunny's gaze grew deeper.
"We are alone, aren't we?"
Morgan nodded.
"Yes, we are. After guards were constantly caught resting during work hours, they are only allowed to come here during their shift breaks."
"I see..."
Sunny closed his eyes and reconsidered his next moves. What he was about to do would be risky, even intrusive.
'If I manage to ask the right questions and she answers, I might understand what the hell she wants with me and perhaps completely rule out whether I'm being investigated,' he decided, opening his eyes.
"Princess Morgan... Why are you bleeding? Are you hur—?"
He was interrupted abruptly by an animated voice.
"Ah! These things... Well, sometimes when one trains, things can get out of hand, but it's nothing to worry about. I'm fine, I feel fine, very good in fact. Better tell me, have you liked the castle? Have you been here before?"
Sunny saw her right hand begin to tremble. She tried to hide it clumsily; he narrowed his eyes in response.
"The castle looks good... I don't think I've been around here before..."
"I'm glad to hear that. And what about... the guards? What about the guards?!"
His expression became serious and deepened. Sunny held back his words for an instant.
"They do their duty..." he said without any particular emotion.
Sunny began to hear a rhythmic sound; it didn't take long to locate what it was. It was right in front of him: it was Morgan's breathing, which was becoming shallow and clumsy.
"Oh? Have I done something wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? I'm sorry if I bothered you... ah... I always ruin it. P-please, forgive me... Yes... I-I'm sorry, I..."
Morgan's voice faded away as she could no longer contain the trembling. The cold sweat from before reappeared; she clenched her fists and shook her head, forcing another completely fake smile.
Instead of feeling a storm of emotions, the opposite happened: she felt a calm like never before, but it did not bring relief. She could never explain how bad she felt in that moment; it was like being underwater, everything began to sound faint. The void in her chest did nothing but grow, becoming heavier.
"I don't think you've done anything wrong... I'm looking at you that way because you look unwell, Princess Morgan."
Morgan, who had unconsciously bowed her head, looked up. There was Sunny with a worried expression. It was a nostalgic sight, funny in some twisted way; she didn't remember the last time someone had looked at her like that.
"Don't worry, I am..." It was hard for her to speak; her tongue seemed numb, resisting her commands.
The sweat on her forehead turned into drops that began to trickle down. She brought a hand to her face to wipe herself; it was hard to lift her arm, as if she were swimming in pitch. Amidst that, she noticed something else was wrong.
There was more liquid trickling from her armor, but it wasn't reddish; it was metallic. She looked at the arms covered by the armor, then at her gloves; from her right hand, the liquid trickled and trickled. She stood petrified, watching this. The drops began to fall to the floor and, at the first impact, they broke it, piercing through until they made a hole.
Morgan grabbed her right hand, pressing it against herself, and turned around, giving Sunny her back. Her head was spinning; she felt heavy, as if she were carrying the weight of the castle on her shoulders. She was losing her strength, her limbs feeling like jelly. She barely managed to maintain enough firmness not to crumble at that very moment; she could swear her heart was pounding in her throat.
The memories of the girl returned to her head, then those of every fearful look; like a sequence, every failure of her life appeared in her mind. Metallic drops began to trickle from her face; all she could do was hug herself.
Sunny was bewildered. He never thought he would see something like that; he stayed still for a few seconds, processing what was happening until something clicked in his mind.
'Anxiety attack?'
The symptoms fit based on what he understood. Sunny reviewed every peculiar gesture and attitude since they had met; he had his answer. However, he didn't move; he remained a witness to her falling apart.
'Do I have to help her? I could slip away now and leave. I can go tell someone to bring someone qualified and my job would be done. Could anyone blame me?'
Sunny stood up from the couch, casting a tentative glance at the door. Morgan's shallow breathing echoed in his ears. The exit was a few steps away, but Morgan was only one step away. He frowned and gritted his teeth.
'Damn it.'
He sighed and turned toward the trembling woman. After taking a simple step, he was already in front of her. He looked at her face and grimaced.
'Hell, she really looks terrible... What do I do now? I'm not a damn therapist.'
He shook his head, clearing his doubts; he wasn't going to back out now.
"Princess Morgan," he said, trying to sound as calm as possible.
But his call fell on deaf ears. Morgan continued to tremble, clutching her arm. His eyes widened as he got a better look at her right arm: the liquid was overflowing from her armor and trickling along the metal, though it hadn't splashed onto the floor yet. This scene brought back memories; his mother flashed through his mind. She too used to suffer these attacks, as he vaguely remembered. Ransacking his memory, he found a guide and imitated what his father used to do with her.
Sunny got to his knees, extended his arm slowly, and gently gripped Morgan's shoulder, trying not to startle her further.
"Princess Morgan, listen to me," he said in a low but firm voice.
The touch and the call reached her, Morgan looked up at him. Her lightless eyes trembled just like her shoulders. Both stayed looking at each other for a few moments. Sunny tried to formulate something that would help; he had promised himself not to back down, but in that moment he wavered. Still, he was already there.
"Can you hear me?" he asked as he extended his hand to her.
Morgan observed the gesture in complete silence. Her mouth opened for an instant, as if it were something unreal. She lifted her hand—the one that wasn't "melting"—and gripped his with force. Sunny had to grit his teeth to suppress a grimace of pain; the pressure was excessive. A little more strength and his hand would be shattered.
"Are you my knight?" Morgan whispered with suppressed emotion, sounding like a child.
Sunny almost tilted his head at the misplaced question.
"No, I am not."
After his answer, he saw her countenance show a genuine expression of disappointment, but it lasted only briefly before returning to neutrality. The hard grip ceased; she retracted her hand and wrapped herself up again.
"Breathe, please."
Sunny took long, visible breaths to set the example. Morgan closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. It was very difficult for her at first, but after a few attempts, she began to stabilize. She still felt as if she were in the middle of a void, but the world stopped spinning. Her jelly-like body regained firmness and the metallic liquid retracted into her body, reforming in her hand; even the small droplets that had fallen found their way back.
They stayed still in silence. It wasn't entirely comfortable, but it wasn't uncomfortable either. Morgan took one last, long breath before looking at him again.
"Please, do not tell anyone about this. What happened today should already be enough to damage my reputation."
Her voice sounded different from any tone used before; it was tired and distant, but above all, genuine. Sunny had a risky feeling, but decided to follow the impulse.
"I won't. I won't tell anyone... I hope I'm not being intrusive with what follows, but may I know why you are in this state?"
Morgan looked him in the eyes, visibly exhausted.
"Do you really want to listen to me?"
"That's right, after all, I have to fulfill my part of the deal," Sunny nodded with a subtle comic tone.
"Sit down," Morgan said, patting the seat beside her.
He stood and sat next to her. Morgan looked at the floor and stroked her gloved hands.
"It happened a while ago. I was standing near the service counters..." she spoke in a dull tone; her tongue resisted articulating words. "There was a very pretty little girl, she came over to play with me. She told me her name, Valeria... It was like seeing a teddy bear, she was truly charming." Morgan let out a small laugh at the memory of how the girl looked at her with admiration. "It was a childish impulse, I wanted to play with her, I don't know why I thought of that... In a moment of carelessness, the girl touched me... and I think you can imagine what happened. After all, you must have seen the pool of blood."
Both her expression and her tone became increasingly heavy. She bowed her head, dejected, and let out a shaky sigh; she parted her lips to speak, but couldn't. Sunny, in a risky move to encourage her, placed his hand on her armored back.
"What happened next?"
Morgan covered her face with her hands, resting her elbows on her legs.
"I ran away. I locked myself in a nearby bathroom. I don't know for how long, but by the time I came out, you were there."
Sunny wore a complicated expression as he processed the situation.
"I see... How do you feel now?"
Morgan turned slightly toward him, looking at him through her fingers.
"It's strange. I don't feel anything in particular. Before, in the bathroom, I felt so bad I wanted to die, but now there is nothing; I only feel a discomfort in my chest."
Finishing, she returned her gaze to the floor. Silence fell again.
Sunny was relieved to rule out that Morgan was hunting him, but on the other hand, he felt pity; this was not the Morgan he knew.
'It's natural for people to change after so many years, but I never expected to see someone like her in this situation.'
A far-fetched idea crossed his mind. He tried to dismiss it immediately because of how ridiculous it seemed: perhaps this was her "real" self, and the imposing Princess of Valor was merely a facade. It wasn't that far from reality, but it mattered little; there was only Morgan, a girl on the verge of collapsing. He felt an urgent impulse from his chest and, this time, he let it out.
"I don't think it's your fault."
Those words pierced Morgan like a spear. Her shoulders trembled and she turned toward him.
"What... Did you say?"
"I don't think any of it is your fault."
Morgan turned around completely. He was serious but not tense; his alabaster eyes were fixed on her. Morgan shook her head, frowning slightly.
"No, all of that was my fault. It was my Flaw that caused it and I was the one who allowed it. It is my fault." A trace of defiance showed in her voice.
"It was an accident, Princess Morgan. You didn't want to hurt that girl."
She clenched her fists and gave him a fierce look. Rage began to seep in.
"O-of course I didn't want to! But I was the one who wounded her. Not only that, I wounded her mother; she ran toward the girl and... she looked at me... as if I were a beast. Then everyone looked at me the same way... I-I can still hear them... I didn't want to..."
In the void of her chest, the discomfort caused a small fissure from which more emotions began to sprout. Another avalanche of panic was about to strike her. Morgan grabbed her head and closed her eyes. Her breathing became shallow again.
She was about to collapse once more when two firm hands held her shoulders.
"Morgan, it wasn't your fault," he said sharply, yet gently.
Morgan gritted her teeth and frowned in anger.
"YES it was!" she growled, lifting her head in annoyance.
But as she did, her rage faltered. Sunny was looking at her with an expression of understanding, of pity. She narrowed her eyes.
"D-don't look at me like that, stop," she stammered with resentment. "It was my fault..."
"No, it wasn't."
"YES!" she shouted, closing her eyes.
"No."
"Y-yes it was..." Her voice broke.
"No, it wasn't your fault."
The arms supporting her head fell away. She looked up and opened her eyes. The same face that was trying to calm her was right there, for her. Her eyes stung and her lower lip began to tremble. Her hands did too, but in a way different from the stress. Her vision blurred. The hands on her shoulders gave her a soft caress that, although she couldn't physically feel through the armor, she understood perfectly.
Her throat ached. Morgan tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a broken whimper. A tear fell, then another. She lost her strength and her head dropped. She shrugged with ragged breaths and forced herself to look up one last time. With a broken and uncertain voice, she confessed:
"I-it wasn't my fault!"
As she finished, she pouted, closed her eyes, and let out the cry she had kept so painfully bottled up. Sunny tried to give her some space and retract his hands, but he was instantly rammed roughly against the couch, nearly losing his breath. Morgan hugged him tightly and buried her face in his chest, quickly soaking it.
"Don't move away... please..." she sobbed.
Morgan squeezed him so hard that Sunny felt as if his vertebrae wanted to separate; even so, he remained silent. The Princess of the Valor clan cried bitterly, clinging to him. Sunny sighed in relief; his risky plan had gone well. He didn't expect her to burst into tears or to hug him, but it worked.
'Is it really that sudden?' Sunny questioned himself.
He dismissed those thoughts and sighed.
Since the crying didn't seem like it would stop anytime soon, Sunny wrapped his arms around Morgan. He was grateful to be wearing the Nebulous Mantle, which withstood Morgan's Flaw without tearing as any normal fabric would. They stayed like that as time passed. The weeping dwindled until it remained only as subtle sounds.
Like a plea, she whispered: "Thank you."
Several minutes had passed. Exhaustion caught up with Morgan enough to make her close her eyes and fall into a fragile sleep. Even Sunny had relaxed; it wasn't the most comfortable position, but he felt inexplicably calm. He let his head fall back into the sofa cushions and closed his eyes.
Just then, the room door opened.
"So Alyosha kissed the earth, promising to love and care for it always..." the guard was saying to his companion following behind.
Sunny's eyes snapped open. The sudden movement woke Morgan. She woke up disoriented but unusually comfortable; she blinked a few times before turning her head toward the sound. For ten seconds, no one moved a muscle. The guards turned halfway around in silence and left, closing the door behind them.
Sunny and Morgan looked at each other. More seconds of stillness passed until Morgan's eyes went wide and she pushed herself back in desperation, staggering to the other end of the couch. Sunny swallowed and sat up calmly. Morgan opened and closed her mouth, trying to say something, but nothing came out. She began making unintelligible hand movements.
Then, Sunny witnessed something unprecedented: Morgan turned as red as a tomato.
She began to tremble as if she were about to go into a convulsion; she looked at her hands and then at Sunny's chest, wet from her tears. Something clicked. Morgan stood up abruptly and, without giving him another look, ran toward the door with such force that she broke the hinges.
She fled.
Sunny found himself alone suddenly. He looked around the room before walking out calmly, moving in autopilot mode out of the castle.
Morgan ran desperately through the endless corridors; in her nervousness, she had gotten lost several times. A single question hammered in her mind: 'What?'.
After finding the way to her room, she closed the door, nearly breaking that one too. Her heart was beating a thousand miles an hour, but unlike before, she felt alive. She sat on her bed, dazed. She rocked back and forth.
'Why? How? When?'
The memories assaulted her: when she grabbed his hand, how she tried to flirt with him jokingly, how he comforted her and they ended up embracing. She remembered how comfortable she was. Morgan put her hands to her head, leaned back, and writhed on the bed from side to side. She grabbed the pillow, pressed it to her face, and let out a squeal worthy of a teenager. In the darkness of her closed eyes, she could see Master Sunless smiling at her.
Morgan did not leave her room for the rest of the day.