The sun sank behind the towers of Ravenna in a manner that felt almost theatrical, as if the sky itself had chosen to grant the night a proper stage. The amber glow faded slowly, replaced by a deep, cold blue, and then by a heavy darkness that felt far more familiar to the stone walls of the castle. Shadows stretched along the corridors, and the air once again became the property of the North: calm, severe, and controlled.
Alessandro Vittorio di Ravenna felt the shift almost instantly. The weight that had clung to his body throughout the afternoon gradually receded. The improper drowsiness that had plagued him since midday vanished, tucked away as neatly as unspoken embarrassment. His mind sharpened, his posture straightened, and his presence reclaimed the authority that made others unconsciously draw themselves taller.
He was himself again.
---
Elena Rosalinda della Fiorenza, on the other hand, experienced the exact opposite. The steady strength she carried during the day dimmed, replaced by an unfamiliar hollowness in her stomach. At first, it was nothing more than a polite hunger she could ignore with grace. Yet slowly, it grew into something impossible to overlook.
Elena bore it with elegance, of course. She did not complain. She did not frown. She certainly did not admit that night had a way of making her emotions feel slightly fragile. Still, her steps slowed, her breathing shortened, and her gentle expression now carried the faint shadow of fatigue.
Alessandro, walking half a step ahead of her, noticed.
---
They moved through the castle corridors toward a smaller dining chamber, guided by the steady glow of torches along the stone walls. Firelight reflected off Alessandro's cloak, sharpening the line of his shoulders, while Elena appeared paler beneath the flickering light.
"Your pace has slowed," Alessandro said without turning, his voice low and firm.
Elena blinked, mildly startled. "Am I disturbing your rhythm?"
"Yes," Alessandro answered honestly. After a brief pause, he added, "Which means something is wrong."
A faint smile touched Elena's lips, warmth blooming quietly in her chest. "I simply have not eaten enough."
"How long?" Alessandro asked.
Elena considered it. "Since midday."
Alessandro stopped walking.
---
The sudden halt nearly caused Elena to collide with his back, and only years of aristocratic composure saved her from a most undignified moment. She lifted her gaze, confused, as Alessandro turned toward her. His expression was far more serious now.
"A mistake," he said.
Elena frowned slightly. "Pardon?"
"Not eating since midday is a mistake," Alessandro repeated. "Especially under these circumstances."
Elena suppressed a small laugh. "I did not realize you were the type to manage other people's meals."
"I am not," Alessandro replied quickly. "I manage risk."
Behind them, Giuliano leaned toward Leonardo and murmured, "Unconsciously protective."
Leonardo nodded. "The night belongs to him."
---
Alessandro turned and altered their path, now leading them toward the Ravenna family's private dining room. It was a place reserved for serious discussions or solitary meals. Elena hesitated for only a moment before following him. At a distance of ten paces, she had little choice but to trust his direction.
The room was warmed by a large fireplace. A dark wooden table stood at its center, and the lingering scent of soup still hung in the air. With a brief gesture from Alessandro, servants appeared, and within minutes, simple yet nourishing food was set before them.
Elena stared at the table, unable to fully hide her expression. "You prepared this?"
"Ravenna is always prepared," Alessandro replied. "Especially for emergencies."
Giuliano muttered under his breath, "An emotional emergency, it seems."
---
Elena sat gracefully, maintaining her posture despite the hunger that now demanded attention. She lifted her spoon, paused, then looked at Alessandro.
"You will not join me?" she asked.
"I already have," Alessandro answered, though it was clearly only half the truth.
Elena did not press further. She began to eat slowly, savoring each spoonful with careful awareness. The warmth of the soup felt like a quiet support she had not realized she needed, and little by little, the tension in her shoulders eased.
Alessandro remained near the fireplace, his cloak still draped over him. His gaze drifted toward Elena from time to time, never obvious, never intrusive. He did not speak. He did not comment. He did not hover. Yet his presence was steady, like a wall standing behind someone without being asked.
---
When Elena finally set the spoon down, her expression was far more composed. Still, the fatigue had not entirely faded, and the emotions she had restrained since afternoon began to surface.
"Nights are always like this," she said softly, more to herself than to him.
"Like what?" Alessandro asked.
"They make everything feel heavier," Elena replied honestly. "As if small thoughts suddenly speak louder."
Alessandro was silent for a moment. He removed his cloak and stepped closer, close enough for the air between them to change. Without a word, he placed the cloak around Elena's shoulders with a calm and deliberate motion.
It was warm, heavy, and carried a faint scent of wood and night.
Elena stiffened briefly, then relaxed. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"The air in Ravenna is unforgiving at night," Alessandro replied. "Especially to guests."
Elena held the edge of the cloak, realizing something important. Alessandro's coldness was not indifference. It was control, a way of protecting without making others feel small.
---
They sat across from one another, the fire casting a gentle glow over their faces. Elena watched the flames, then looked back at Alessandro.
"I once thought you did not care," she admitted.
Alessandro raised an eyebrow slightly. "And now?"
"Now," Elena smiled faintly, "I think you simply dislike speaking too much."
Giuliano, somehow reappearing, chuckled. "That is high praise in Ravenna."
Alessandro shot him a sharp look. "Leave."
Giuliano lifted his hands in surrender. "Very well. I will leave you to your Northern moment."
---
Silence settled once more, but this time it was warm. Elena realized that beneath Alessandro's dominance and rigidity lay a steady, consistent attentiveness. She did not need to explain herself in detail. She did not need to justify her weakness. Alessandro had adjusted without being asked.
And Alessandro, in his quiet way, realized that Elena trusted him enough to accept help without feeling diminished.
That night, beneath Ravenna's cold sky, their balance shifted once again. Day might belong to the South, but night, with its long shadows and faithful fire, belonged unmistakably to the North.
And within it all, something more delicate than any curse began to grow. Slowly. Without magic. Without force.