Morning arrived in the rudest possible way. It did not knock, did not ask permission, and did not care that two nobles from opposite directions of the world were struggling to preserve the fragile remains of their dignity. Light slipped through the narrow gap in the window and spilled across the stone floor of the cramped chamber, revealing one bitter truth with painful clarity. The curse offered no mercy, not even after a Northern night had passed in all its awkward silence.
Elena woke first, not refreshed, but hungry in a way that felt like a formal protest issued by her body. Her stomach let out a soft sound, quiet yet unmistakable, drawing a long sigh from her lips. She closed her eyes again, hoping it was only an echo of a dream, before realizing that Alessandro was far too close for any dream to feel safe.
Alessandro, who had been calm and protective the night before, was now asleep with an expression entirely unbefitting his reputation. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, his heavy cloak still draped halfway over Elena's shoulders, and his breathing was steady in an infuriatingly peaceful rhythm. Elena stared at him with a mix of irritation, hunger, and the sudden urge to kick something, though she knew very well that kicking Alessandro would end badly for her.
She tried to move, just a little, shifting her leg. The curse reacted instantly, like an overzealous jailer. A firm yet subtle pull drew her back, and Elena clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Impressive," she muttered, with no hint of praise. "Even breathing feels like it requires permission."
Alessandro let out a quiet groan. His eyelids fluttered before opening, his gaze still unfocused. The moment he became aware of the distance, or rather the lack of it, between them, his brows furrowed. He straightened slightly, the reflex of a noble accustomed to guarding boundaries. Those boundaries, however, had already been thoroughly violated by magic that knew nothing of etiquette.
"Good morning," Elena said flatly, though a poorly concealed glint of amusement flickered in her eyes. She knew this sight would test Alessandro's patience more than any battlefield. Alessandro exhaled slowly, as if counting to ten in some ancient language known only to him.
"This is… not ideal," he said at last, his voice low and rough from sleep. He adjusted his collar in a gesture that was more symbolic than effective. The cloak still rested on Elena's shoulders, and for a brief moment he seemed unsure whether to take it back or leave it. He chose a third option and pretended not to notice.
Elena raised an eyebrow. "You are only realizing that now?" she asked lightly, her tone sharp beneath the humor. "I have felt this way since I discovered I cannot stand up without being pulled back like a broken kite." She tried again, this time with more calculation. The curse allowed them to stand, as long as they remained side by side, shoulders nearly touching, like a pair far too intimate for whatever relationship they actually had.
They stood in heavy silence, broken only by Elena's stomach making its opinion known once more. Alessandro glanced at her briefly, then looked away as though he had merely heard the wind. "You are hungry," he said, not as a question, but as a statement.
Elena let out a small snort. "An extraordinary observation, Lord of the North. I almost missed it myself." Still, a quiet sense of relief settled in her chest. Alessandro did not laugh, did not criticize. He simply nodded, as if accepting this as part of a routine neither of them had chosen.
---
The small chamber at the end of the corridor became the first official witness to the loss of their privacy. Clearly designed for one person, it had cold stone walls and a narrow window that barely qualified as ventilation. Now, two people stood at its threshold, staring at each other with expressions that were nearly comical in their shared uncertainty.
"I will go in first," Elena said too quickly, as if afraid that if she paused, her courage would disappear. She stepped inside, only for the curse to tug Alessandro forward by half a step. They stopped, bodies almost touching, the door standing wide open like a mouth laughing at them.
Alessandro pressed his fingers to his temple. "This is… impossible," he said, his voice tinged with genuine despair. "I will wait outside." He tried to step back. The curse refused outright, pulling him firmly into place. Elena closed her eyes, counted silently, then opened them with a resigned look.
"Fine," she said at last. "We handle this like adults." She paused, then added, "On the condition that you do not turn around and do not comment." Alessandro nodded far too quickly, his posture rigid like a marble statue that had forgotten how to breathe.
They entered together, the door closing slowly behind them. The silence inside was so thick it felt almost tangible. Alessandro stared at the wall with exaggerated intensity, as though the gray stone held the secrets of the universe. Elena, despite the awkwardness, found a bitter sort of humor in the situation. She stifled a laugh, her shoulders trembling.
"If anyone asks," she whispered, "we can say this is a social experiment." Alessandro did not respond, but his ears turned red, and Elena noted it with a small, unexpected sense of victory.
When they finally stepped back into the corridor, the air felt like a blessing. Alessandro drew in a deep breath, as though he had just survived a fierce battle. Elena patted his shoulder, light but meaningful. "You survived," she said. "I am proud of you." Alessandro looked at her with an expression caught somewhere between irritation and amusement, and for the first time, he chose the latter, even if it was only a slight curve at the corner of his mouth.
---
Breakfast presented the next challenge. The grand dining hall, with its long table and servants moving back and forth, suddenly felt like a stage under unforgiving light. Matteo and Isabella were already seated at one end, their conversation halting the moment Elena and Alessandro entered, or rather entered together, with an undeniably improper lack of distance.
Matteo narrowed his eyes, a mischievous smile slowly forming. "Ah," he said, his tone rich with implication. "You look… close this morning." Isabella nudged him lightly, though her own eyes gleamed with curiosity. Elena sighed, while Alessandro straightened his shoulders, once again donning the cold, controlled mask of a Ravenna noble.
"The curse," Alessandro said shortly.
Elena nodded in agreement and sat down, pulling Alessandro with her since the curse clearly did not care about dining etiquette. The servant hesitated while setting down the dishes, then chose to pretend that nothing was amiss. Bread and soup were placed carefully, as if their proximity were something fragile.
Elena ate eagerly now, no longer hiding her hunger. Alessandro watched her for a moment, then slid his plate slightly toward her. "Take it," he said, as though it were a strategic decision rather than an act of care. Elena blinked, surprised, then smiled softly. "Thank you," she said, without sarcasm this time.
Matteo raised an eyebrow at Isabella. "This is more than a curse," he whispered, loud enough to be heard. Isabella nodded slowly, her gaze thoughtful rather than judgmental. She saw something shifting, something growing between two people once bound only by cruel magic.
---
The afternoon brought a routine neither of them had planned. Training, meetings, even walking through corridors now had to be done in tandem. Every step became a small negotiation, every turn required awkward coordination. Elena stumbled once, pulling Alessandro dangerously close to losing his balance. They froze, staring at each other, before laughing at the same time, a short, startled laugh, but real.
"I did not expect my day to be filled with… this," Elena said, adjusting her pace.
"Neither did I," Alessandro replied. "But we are learning." The words were simple, yet they carried an admission he rarely made, that he was not entirely resisting this situation.
By late afternoon, exhaustion set in. Not just physical fatigue, but the mental strain of being constantly aware of another presence. Elena leaned her head briefly against the wall and exhaled. Alessandro stood beside her, silent, yet not stepping away. The quiet was no longer awkward. It became a shared space they occupied without effort.
---
Night fell once more, bringing memories of how the North strengthened Alessandro and weakened Elena. This time, however, something was subtly different. When Elena began to tremble, not only from the cold, Alessandro moved without thinking. He adjusted the cloak on her shoulders, a gesture that now felt natural rather than obligatory.
"Are you all right?" he asked softly.
Elena nodded, her eyes clouded with fatigue and the hunger that had returned. "With you here," she said honestly, "better than I expected." Alessandro did not reply, but his expression softened, the cold cracking under something warm and undefined.
When it came time to change clothes, the awkwardness crept back, though it was no longer as sharp as it had been that morning. They turned their backs to each other as much as the curse allowed, their movements coordinated in near comical silence. Elena let out a quiet giggle. "If this continues," she said, "we will become the most synchronized pair in the castle." Alessandro huffed softly. "Do not spread rumors," he replied, though his voice had lost its edge.
They lay down to sleep, still too close for their old comfort, yet no longer unfamiliar. The curse had stolen their privacy, one layer at a time. In return, it offered something they never asked for, but slowly began to accept. A habit of each other's presence.
Between steady breaths and the deepening night, Elena realized that Alessandro was no longer a cold shadow at her side. He was real, consistent, and, though she hesitated to admit it, comforting. Alessandro, in turn, realized that Elena was not merely a burden of daylight or a weakness of night. She was voice, laughter, and a pulse of life now inseparable from his steps.
Their privacy might be gone. But in the empty space it left behind, something grew. Something more complex, more dangerous, and far more honest than a curse.