Lyria's POV
For three days and three nights, the palace felt strangely quiet—as if holding its breath.
Lyria had barely slept. She stayed in the chair beside Riven's bed, elbows resting on her knees, hands clasped under her chin. The faint morning light filtered through the tall curtains, casting pale gold over Riven's still form.
She looks… different while asleep, Lyria thought.
Less intimidating. Less sharp.
Her usual cold, predatory aura was gone—replaced with a fragile stillness that didn't suit the girl who had ripped a curse out of a dying heart.
Lyria swallowed, glancing at Riven's face again.
Even unconscious, Riven somehow looked like she was trapped in a battle. Her brows furrowed, fingers twitching occasionally as if resisting something in a dream.
And every time it happened, Lyria found herself leaning closer.
"…You're fighting in there, aren't you?" she whispered, keeping her voice low so her parents wouldn't hear. "Just like you did for me."
She traced her thumb along her wrist unconsciously—remembering the cold hands that had pressed over her heart… and the warmth that followed.
She had been awake for all of it, able to see the black veins crawling over Anya's arms… and the flash of glowing red that had stolen her breath.
Monstrous.
That should have been her first thought.
But it wasn't.
Instead Lyria had felt something else—fear.
Fear that Riven wouldn't survive saving her.
The king and queen had insisted healers watch over both girls, yet Lyria refused to leave Riven's side.
At night, when the healers left and the palace halls fell silent, she would rest her head lightly on the side of the bed, listening to the faint, steady rhythm of Riven's breathing.
More than once, she found herself whispering to the unconscious girl:
"You'll wake up… right?"
She waited.
And waited.
On the morning of the third day, sunlight washed over the room. Lyria lifted her head, blinking tiredly—dark circles under her eyes, hair slightly messy from lack of rest.
She reached out hesitantly, brushing a strand of black hair away from Riven's cheek.
"I'm alive because of you," she murmured. "So you'd better come back."
And as if answering her…
Riven's eyelashes fluttered.
And opened her eyes , screamed a name
Liz
Lyria froze.
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2. Riven's. POV
A gasp tore from Riven's throat as she shot upright—her heart racing, breath trembling.
"L—Lize—!"
Her voice cracked.
The dream faded like smoke, leaving only pain behind. She blinked rapidly, disoriented, trying to steady her breathing.
Then she felt it—
A presence.
She turned her head and found Princess Lyria sitting beside her, eyes wide, hands trembling slightly in her lap.
"You… you're awake," Lyria breathed out, relief flooding her voice.
Riven blinked at her, still half-lost between nightmare and reality.
"How… long was I out?"
"Three days," the princess responded softly. "You collapsed right after you saved me."
Three days.
Longer than she expected… but survivable.
Raven tried to get out of bed but didn't have the strength to stand and she stumbled .
What are you doing, you need to rest. The princess spoke with concern and tried to stop her.
I must return to the orphanage; they must be worried. I've been gone for three days.
Don't worry, we told them you're in the palace. Lyria said with smile.
Riven sighed and leaned back against the pillows, rubbing her forehead. The room smelled faintly of herbs and clean linen. A luxurious chamber—far from the orphanage she called home.
Then her gaze shifted back to Lyria.
The girl was studying her. Not fearfully—just… intensely.
Riven raised a brow.
"You've been watching me the entire time?"
Color rushed into Lyria's cheeks.
"I—I had nothing else to do," she lied terribly. "And the healers said I should rest, so… this room was quiet."
Riven smirked slightly.
She's not good at lying.
Lyria cleared her throat, then spoke again:
"I wanted to thank you. Truly. You didn't have to save me."
"I did," Riven replied. "I gave my word."
"And the curse—did it hurt you?"
"A little," Riven lied this time, glancing away. "But I'm fine."
Lyria frowned, doubt clear in her eyes—but she didn't press further. Instead, she reached into a small tray beside her chair and handed Riven a glass of water.
"Drink," she said simply.
Riven accepted it.
Their fingertips brushed for half a second—
and Lyria instantly pulled her hand back, flustered.
Riven watched her reaction, eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity… but she said nothing.
"Thank you," the princess said again, softer this time. "For saving my life."
Riven nodded.
"Anytime."
Their eyes met—just for a heartbeat—before the door swung open.
The King and Queen entered the room urgently, faces filled with both relief and exhaustion.
"You're awake!" the queen exclaimed, rushing to Riven's side. "Thank the stars."
The king, standing at the foot of the bed, exhaled heavily—his usual stern expression softening.
"Riven Nightthorn," he said. "You saved our daughter.
Riven shifted uncomfortably.
She didn't like this much attention.
"I only did what needed to be done."
"And because of that," the king continued, "we cannot allow you to leave the palace immediately."
Riven stiffened.
Lyria sat up straighter in her chair.
"Father—"
"It's not a punishment," the queen assured gently. "Your body is still recovering from the curse's transfer. You will stay here for two more days until your strength returns."
"We won't risk you collapsing again outside these walls," the king added.
Riven let out a slow breath.
She hated being confined…
but she couldn't deny her body still felt heavy and sore.
"Fine," she said at last. "Two days."
Lyria let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
The queen smiled warmly.
"We will prepare a room for you next to Lyria's—"
"No need," Lyria interjected quickly, cheeks warming. "She can stay here. This room is large enough."
Riven blinked.
The king raised an eyebrow.
The queen hid a knowing smile.
Lyria cleared her throat and added quickly:
"Only for convenience, of course. So we can check on her easily. Nothing more."
"Mm," the queen hummed, unconvinced.
This princess… is interesting.
As the royal couple stepped out to arrange things, Lyria turned back toward Riven.
She hesitated… then spoke softly:
"If you need anything… anything at all… tell me."
Riven nodded.
"I will."
A moment of silence passed—warm, quiet, strangely gentle.
And somewhere deep in the shadows of the room, unseen by either girl…
Morrivayne watched with an amused smile,