Dastan's neck stiffened as his eyes fluttered open, the room cloaked in darkness cast by the drawn curtains. His brows furrowed deeply, and a sharp pain throbbed through his neck, causing him to grimace in discomfort. With a slow, cautious movement, he reached up to massage his aching neck, hoping to alleviate the discomfort.
"Agh!" He groaned, the muscles of his face contorting with the intensity of the pain. He gently tilted his head from side to side, seeking relief, but his efforts were interrupted by a startling realization—the bed was empty, devoid of Noori's presence.
"Where did she go?" His hand retreated from his neck, grasping the edge of the chair as he prepared to rise. Panic crept into his voice, his irritation evident at her sudden disappearance without any explanation. He scanned the room, confirming her absence, and noticed that the door stood slightly ajar, a silent invitation to investigate.
"She could have at least informed me of her departure. What's the point of leaving without a word, especially in her condition?" Dastan muttered to himself, frustration lacing his words as he lamented her actions. With determined steps, he rose from his seat, ready to search for her.
Exiting the room, he was greeted by the solemn bow of the guards stationed outside. "Did... Did you see anyone leave from here?" Dastan inquired, struggling to address Noori by her title or name.
"Yes, Your Highness. The Crown Princess left a while ago. No one else," the guard replied, his gaze earnest as he awaited further instruction. "Is there someone you're looking for?"
Dastan shook his head, his mind reeling with concern. "No. Which direction did she head?"
"That way, Your Highness. Towards the backyard of the palace," the guard responded promptly.
"Hmm... Well done," Dastan acknowledged with a nod, offering the guard a reassuring pat on the back before striding purposefully in the direction of the palace's backyard.
"The backyard? Again? She must have an affinity for trees and plants to consistently end up there," Dastan mused aloud, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "There are plenty of gardens in the main palace, if I recall correctly. I wonder if she visits those as well." His internal monologue spilled out unintentionally, his thoughts voiced aloud in the quiet solitude of the corridor.
Descending the well-maintained staircase that led to the backyard, Dastan took in the sight before him. Unlike the modest courtyard garden they had briefly visited earlier, this area was a true marvel of beauty and tranquility. The rose-covered archway framed the entrance, leading him into a lush oasis of greenery and colorful blooms.
As he stepped into the backyard, Dastan found himself enchanted by the serene surroundings. It had been too long since he had experienced the simple pleasure of leisurely strolling through a garden. The demands of his duties had kept him occupied, leaving little time for such indulgences. Yet, in this moment, he allowed himself to forget the purpose of his visit and simply revel in the beauty of his surroundings.
The soft grass cushioned his footsteps as he wandered through the meticulously manicured lawn, a sense of peace washing over him. Each flower seemed to dance in the gentle breeze, their vibrant hues a feast for the eyes. Dastan couldn't help but smile as he took in the sights and sounds of the tranquil garden.
Dastan's curiosity piqued as he followed the sound of soft crying, the melancholic notes mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind. "Is someone crying? I wonder who," he murmured softly to himself, his head tilted in curiosity. The source of the sound seemed to be not far away, emanating from behind a majestic tree that cast a somber shadow over the otherwise lively garden.
With cautious steps, Dastan approached the tree, his senses heightened as he sought to unravel the mystery of the weeping. As he drew closer, the sound grew clearer, tugging at his heartstrings with its plaintive melody. It was as if the garden itself echoed the sorrow of the unseen mourner.
Just as he was on the verge of discovering the source of the cries, the guard from before appeared, his footsteps shattering the fragile silence of the night. Dastan swiftly turned to signal the guard to remain silent, his finger pressed to his lips in a gesture of quiet urgency. The guard froze in place, his foot suspended mid-step, obediently heeding Dastan's silent command to maintain discretion.
Dastan signaled for the guard to leave, his expression heavy with concern and determination. As the guard departed, Dastan released a weighted breath, his resolve solidifying with each step he took toward the mysterious sound. The weight of discovery lifted from his shoulders, allowing him to move with newfound confidence. Yet, just as he approached the tree, a figure emerged from the shadows.
It was Farris, holding Noori's unconscious body against his chest. Noori's delicate form was nestled against him, her face pressed into his shirt, and her injured arm cradled in her lap. Dastan's heart clenched at the sight, a surge of protectiveness washing over him.
"What did you do?" Dastan's voice quivered with a mixture of anger and distress, his chest tightening with each word as if struggling to contain the intensity of his emotions.
Farris regarded him with feigned innocence, his expression betraying no hint of guilt. "What are you talking about, Your Highness?" he responded nonchalantly, as if oblivious to Dastan's mounting fury.
Dastan's breaths grew ragged, his fists clenched at his sides. "Why is she with you? How dare you touch her!" he demanded, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage.
"Calm down, Your Highness. You'll wake her up. She is a light sleeper," Farris retorted calmly, his words only fueling Dastan's ire.
A wave of frustration washed over Dastan, his jaw tensing as he struggled to maintain his composure. "How... What do you mean?" he stuttered, his mind racing with disbelief and suspicion.
Farris attempted to explain himself, but Dastan's patience had worn thin. With a possessive determination, he stepped forward, pulling Noori away from Farris and holding her tightly against his chest. "She is my wife! I hope you understand that, Duke," he declared firmly, his voice carrying a mixture of protectiveness and defiance.
The air around them crackled with tension, each man locked in a silent battle of wills. Dastan's gaze bore into Farris with unwavering intensity, his stance unwavering as he shielded Noori from any perceived threat. Meanwhile, Farris met Dastan's gaze with a cool demeanor, his expression masking any hint of guilt or remorse.
As the standoff continued, the weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, fraught with unspoken accusations and simmering emotions. In that tense silence, the truth of their tangled emotions remained shrouded, leaving their fate uncertain amidst the darkness of the night.
"And I never said she was not." Farris replied calmly stepping aside and then adding another short sentence. "I don't know what you are thinking but it was all but a misunderstanding. I was about to take her back to your room, She had sleep walked out of it." Farris's calm response did little to ease Dastan's agitation, but he reluctantly stepped aside, allowing Dastan to reclaim Noori. With a final cryptic remark, Farris retreated into the shadows, leaving Dastan alone with his thoughts.
As Noori stirred in his arms, emitting a soft sniffle, Dastan's grip tightened reflexively on her arm, unintentionally causing her discomfort. He released her quickly, chastising himself for his rough handling.
"It doesn't matter," he repeated silently, though the words rang hollow in his mind. Despite his attempts to push aside his feelings, he couldn't ignore the pained expression on Noori's face, the tear glistening at the corner of her eye.
Turning away, Dastan made his way back to the room, his footsteps heavy with the weight of unresolved emotions. Gently laying Noori on the bed, he tucked her in with the blanket, his movements tender and deliberate.
As he removed his shoes and accessories, preparing to lie beside her, he stole a glance at her tear-stained face. With a sigh, he reached out to brush away the solitary tear clinging to her red eyelash, a silent gesture of solace amidst the turmoil of the night.
Dastan's voice carried a mixture of frustration and disbelief as he recounted the series of events. "You get stuck in the snowstorm, and he finds you coincidentally. You almost die after falling off a cliff, and he just happens to be there to save you. You sleepwalk right into his arms and cry in his embrace, and now he expects me to believe it's all just a coincidence?" Each word dripped with skepticism, his incredulity evident.
His brow furrowed as a troubling thought crossed his mind. "Sometimes I think he should have been the one marrying you," Dastan muttered bitterly, the words escaping before he could stop them. He paused, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes as he realized the implications of his statement. "But he couldn't have... How could I forget? It was illegal to marry a Nurian before this," he concluded, his tone tinged with a mix of resignation and lingering resentment.