The medicinal paste lay spilled on the floor.
Aria looked down at it, then slowly raised her head to meet Tristan's gaze.
Confusion and shock filled her eyes, and when she saw how cold and distant Tristan looked, a flicker of fear appeared.
What was wrong? she wondered.
Had she done something wrong?
"Don't come near My Lord," Tristan said in a voice as cold as death.
He was seething.
"It's because of you. You could have stopped it, but you didn't."
She had waited until his master was wounded.
He had seen how the wolf obeyed her commands. He didn't understand her words, but the wolf clearly followed whatever she said. He wasn't blind to that.
In the end, she belonged to Ulrik. His master had been too kind to her, but Tristan knew better.
What if this paste was harmful?
Aria didn't understand his harsh words, but his tone and expression made it clear he was blaming her.
She stepped back in fear when he spoke sharply again.
"Just leave."
Frustrated to see her still standing there, Tristan gestured toward the door, knowing she might not understand his words.
"Leave!"
Aria hesitated, glancing at Rayan still bleeding on the bed. How could she leave him?
But Tristan's patience was gone.
"Leave!"
His voice made her flinch, and this time she finally left the room.
...
The bleeding wouldn't stop.
Tristan had a few herbs with him—the essentials they'd taken when leaving Ludwig—but they could only slow the bleeding for a while.
When Rayan's temperature started rising, Tristan panicked.
In this isolated place, could he find a doctor?
He had to do something.
Determined, Tristan stepped outside.
His eyes caught sight of Aria sitting near the stove in the kitchen.
Her eyes were red and swollen, but he was too filled with worry and anger to say anything.
The hut's isolation only made him feel more helpless.
Without a word, he left the hut.
Aria watched his retreating back.
As the door closed behind him, her gaze shifted toward her own room.
Biting her lips, she kept staring at the door.
Taking a deep breath, she stood and walked toward it.
She opened the door slowly, careful not to make a sound, and stepped inside.
Before closing it, she looked outside again to make sure Tristan wasn't there.
Would he scold her again if he saw her near Rayan?
She swallowed hard, remembering his angry eyes.
Still, she gathered her courage and moved closer to the bed.
Her eyes clouded with worry as she looked at the bloodstained cloth around Rayan's wound.
He was still bleeding.
Why hadn't that man done anything?
She hurried to sit beside Rayan and gently touched his wrist.
Relieved to feel a pulse, she sighed.
She placed her hand on his chest, took a deep breath, and slowly closed her eyes.
Her lips moved silently as she chanted a soft prayer.
A small light flickered from her hand.
Sweat covered her forehead.
Time passed. Her face grew pale, but she didn't stop.
As her lips lost color, Rayan's eyes slowly opened.
Feeling warmth on his chest, he looked down in confusion.
His gaze traveled from the hand resting there to Aria's face.
She was still chanting softly, the light glowing faintly from her palm.
Rayan lay still, processing the strange sight.
Aria finally stopped.
She looked exhausted.
But when she saw Rayan awake, her eyes brightened instantly.
"Rayan!" she called weakly.
His eyes, however, were different.
Cold. Empty.
His lips pressed into a thin, hard line.
Without warning, he gripped her hand on his chest and pulled her close.
"How did you do it?" he rasped, still weak.
Aria didn't understand his words. All she could say was, "Rayan!"
But he wasn't ready for this moment.
He knew what was happening.
He knew why she could heal him.
He should have understood.
The isolated hut deep in the forest, her saving him despite his grave wounds, the way birds had obeyed her...
Everything was clear — yet he refused to accept it.
Because a part of him didn't want to believe.
Could he really ignore what was in front of his eyes?
Could he deny the truth that Aria was a witch?
A witch she was.
Not a normal human being.