The silence of the night crept into the vast chamber, interrupted only by the crackling of burning wood in the hearth. Alistair—still known in this world as Julian—stood silently by the large window overlooking the dark palace gardens. His mind drifted to the anatomy of the parasite he had just manipulated. In the future, he handled neural tumors with laser equipment, but here, he had only rough fingers and medical intuition fueled by adrenaline.
Behind him, Elara's breathing began to steady, though she still gave occasional small jolts in her sleep. Julian turned his body, gazing at the figure of the Crown Princess who now looked so small beneath the layers of silk blankets. The pride that had stood so tall earlier—high enough to land a slap on his cheek—had now crumbled, leaving behind the fragility of a patient who had just escaped death.
"Cold..." Elara whispered suddenly. Her voice was raspy, nearly inaudible.
Julian stepped closer. He placed the back of his hand on Elara's forehead. Her body temperature had dropped drastically—a lingering symptom of the Obsidian parasite attempting to re-crystallize after its blood circulation had been forcibly pumped.
"It's because your body's metabolism hasn't stabilized yet," Julian said flatly. He took a warm towel he had prepared near the heater. "You must keep moving in your sleep; do not let your blood flow slow down."
Elara opened her eyes slightly. Her blue pupils appeared wide, staring at Julian with an expression that was difficult to decipher. When Julian's hand touched her arm to adjust the blanket, Elara no longer pulled away in disgust. Instead, she gripped Julian's wrist.
"Don't go far," Elara murmured. Her pale fingers curled around Julian's rough skin. "Every time you move away... it feels as if ice begins to creep up from the tips of my toes again."
Julian looked down at his gripped hand. "Princess, you just slapped me for touching you. Now you're asking me to stay close?"
Elara turned her face away, hiding a flush that arose not from fever. "That... I was just startled. I have never been left half-clothed in front of a man who wasn't an official court physician."
"I am a doctor," Julian cut in firmly. "And to a doctor, your body is merely a map of problems. There is no room for lust when your life is hanging by a thread."
Elara fell silent, absorbing the cold honesty of the man before her. "My father... and Cedric... they always talk about dignity and protocol. But when I was dying, their protocols couldn't stop this pain. Only your hands could."
Julian exhaled. He pulled a heavy wooden chair to the bedside and sat down. "That is because I see the parasite as a biological entity, not a divine curse. Science does not care about dignity, Elara. It only cares about facts."
"Teach me," Elara whispered suddenly.
"What?"
"Teach me not to be afraid of what is inside my body. You speak as if you know everything about me—more than I know about myself."
Julian looked intensely into Elara's eyes. "You want the truth? There is a war going on inside your body right now. Your immune cells are trying to destroy the Obsidian residue, but they need help. They need heat, nutrients, and your will to stay awake. If you surrender to fear, the parasite will win."
Elara nodded slowly. She pulled Julian's hand, forcing him to keep holding hers over the blanket. "The warmth of your hand... it gives me courage. The old Julian... his voice always trembled. But you... you are like a rock that cannot be shaken by anything."
Julian gave a lopsided smile—a cynical grin that felt familiar to Elara now. "Perhaps because the Julian you knew died in Ironspire Prison, and all that remains is a man who has lost everything until there is nothing left to fear."
The night grew deeper. A blizzard began to batter the windowpanes, creating an eerie howling sound. The temperature inside the room dropped as well. Elara began to shiver violently, her teeth chattering.
"It hurts... my chest is tight again," Elara moaned.
Julian immediately checked the pulse in Elara's neck. Fast and shallow. He knew this wasn't a new parasitic attack, but rather post-procedural psychological trauma triggering shortness of breath. He placed both hands on Elara's shoulders, pressing down gently but firmly.
"Look into my eyes, Elara. Breathe with me. Inhale... exhale..."
Elara tried to follow Julian's breathing rhythm. She stared into the man's sharp eyes, seeking an anchor amidst the storm of her pain. Slowly, her breathlessness subsided. The warmth from Julian's hands pressing on her shoulders seemed to be the only barrier between herself and death.
"You must not leave," Elara whispered once her breathing had calmed. She gripped the hem of Julian's torn prison tunic. "At least not tonight. I cannot face this darkness alone."
Julian looked toward the sofa in the far, cold corner of the room. He knew his own body had reached its limit. The whip wounds on his back throbbed with pain, demanding rest.
"I will sit on that sofa," Julian said.
"No!" Elara cried out softly, her eyes filled with pure terror. "That sofa is too far. The candlelight doesn't reach it. I... I'm afraid that if I close my eyes and you aren't within my reach, I will never wake up again."
Julian remained silent. As a cold surgeon, he was used to maintaining professional distance. However, in this cruel world where conspiracies lurked behind every door, Elara was the only "project" he had to complete in order to survive.
"Sit here," Elara pointed to the chair beside her bed. "Sleep while sitting if you must. Just... don't let my hand lose your warmth."
Julian gazed at the Princess's fragile face. He could see the shadow of death still lurking in the corners of her eyes. Finally, with a long sigh, Julian leaned his back against the hard wooden chair.
Julian crossed his arms over his chest, trying to find a position that wasn't too agonizing for his injured back. He closed his eyes, yet he could feel Elara's fingers still hooked onto the edge of his sleeve.
"Sleep, Princess," Julian murmured in a raspy voice.
"Promise you won't move?" Elara whispered with eyes half-closed.
"I am your doctor. I do not leave my patients in the middle of a crisis."
Elara took a deep breath and began to drift off with a thin smile—the first to appear since she fell ill. However, that peace lasted only a moment. Outside the door, heavy, noisy footsteps began to approach. Julian opened his eyes instantly, his sharp senses catching a new aura of threat. Someone far more dangerous than Cedric was heading their way.