The palace corridors were quieter here. Far from the throne, far from the weight of titles and expectations. Soft light spilled from wall lanterns, warming the marble into something almost gentle.
Princess Iyo walked slightly ahead, then slowed—just enough for Yuna to walk beside her. Not behind, not as a guest, but as something else. Neither of them spoke at first. The silence wasn't awkward; it was just new.
"…Does it hurt?"
The question came softly. It wasn't formal or royal; it was just concern. Yuna glanced at her bandaged arm.
"A little," Yuna replied. She paused. "But it's fine."
Iyo didn't look convinced. Her gaze lingered—not on the injuries themselves, but on the fact that Yuna dismissed them so easily. "…You say that like it's nothing."
Yuna tilted her head slightly. "It'll heal."
Simple. Certain. Iyo slowed again, and this time, she stopped. Yuna followed suit. The corridor stretched quietly around them, devoid of guards or watching eyes. For the first time since they had met, they were actually alone.
Iyo turned to face her fully, stepping closer than before. "…Back there…" She paused, her fingers fidgeting slightly. "…I didn't thank you properly."
"You did," Yuna said, blinking once.
Iyo shook her head. "…No." She took a step closer. It was small, but deliberate. "…Not like this."
Before Yuna could react, Iyo gently took her hand. She was careful, as if afraid it might break. Her grip was soft, but steady.
"…Thank you."
The words were quiet, but this time they carried everything: relief, gratitude, and something deeper she couldn't quite name yet. Yuna looked at her, not surprised or uncomfortable, just observing. Then, a small, warm smile appeared.
"You're safe," Yuna said. "That's enough."
Iyo's chest tightened. Because to her, it wasn't enough. Not even close.
"…It is for you," her voice dropped. "…But not for me."
Yuna didn't respond immediately. She didn't know how to. Iyo looked away for a moment, then back. "…Will you stay?"
The question slipped out before she could stop it. She corrected herself quickly. "…I mean—for a few days."
Yuna considered it. Not with suspicion or caution, but with simple logic. "If Uncle Andrew stays."
Iyo smiled. It was small, but genuine. "…Then I'll make sure he does."
That earned a soft breath from Yuna—almost a laugh. It was light. For a moment, everything felt normal. No demons, no kings, no expectations. Just two girls standing in a quiet corridor, one hand still holding the other. Neither pulled away, and neither quite understood why.
The corridor grew quieter the deeper they went until the guards vanished entirely. Princess Iyo slowed near a set of tall doors—elegant and personal, rather than grand. She hesitated for a second, then pushed them open.
"…This is my room."
Not chambers. Not quarters. *Room.* The word itself felt different.
Yuna stepped inside and paused. It wasn't what she expected. No overwhelming gold or suffocating luxury. Instead, there were soft colors and open windows, curtains swaying gently in the night breeze. Books were stacked in uneven piles, and a low table held half-finished tea. Near the window was a small space filled with flowers—grown and cared for, not just arranged by servants.
"It's… nice," Yuna said.
Iyo blinked, then smiled. "…That's the first time anyone's said that."
"What do they usually say?"
"'Beautiful.' 'Elegant.' 'Fit for a Princess.'" Iyo looked around the room as if seeing it differently. "…But none of them actually see it."
Yuna walked further in, her fingers brushing against a book, then the edge of the table. "You live here. Then it's yours."
It was a simple truth, but it made something shift inside Iyo. No one had ever said it like that—not as a title, but as a fact.
"…Sit," Iyo gestured toward the bed. Yuna complied carefully, her movements still strained. Iyo noticed immediately. "…Wait."
She moved quickly, grabbing a soft cloth and dipping it in cool water. She returned and knelt in front of Yuna. "…May I?"
Yuna nodded. Iyo gently pressed the cloth against Yuna's arm, her touch light and hesitant. "…You don't have to do this," Yuna said.
"…I want to," Iyo replied. "I've had people take care of me my whole life. But I've never done it for someone else."
That made Yuna look at her a little differently. "You're doing fine."
Iyo froze for a second, then gave a shy smile. "…Good."
The silence settled, softer and warmer. "…Can I ask you something else?" Iyo asked.
"You can."
"…When you looked at me back there… what did you feel?"
Yuna had to think about the feeling, not the words. "…It felt… warm. I didn't understand it. But it wasn't bad."
Iyo's hand stopped completely. She just looked at her. "…Warm?"
Yuna nodded. "Yes."
Iyo's chest tightened because, for her, that feeling had a name. But she didn't say it. Instead, she sat beside Yuna—closer than before, not touching, just near.
"…You really are strange," Iyo whispered, fond.
"I get that a lot."
Iyo laughed. It was real. For the first time all day, she felt at ease. Not as a Princess, but just as a girl.
"…Yuna."
"Hm?"
"…When I thought I was going to die… someone saved me," Iyo said softly. "I didn't see their face… I wasn't even sure if it was real. But I remember the feeling. It felt… safe."
Yuna stayed still, listening.
"…And today… when I found out it was you… that feeling came back."
That was the bridge. Yuna watched her, and Iyo's hand hovered near Yuna's again. "…I don't really understand it… but when I'm near you… I—"
The word stopped. Her hand pulled back, quick and controlled. "…You should rest."
The Princess-persona returned too fast. Yuna watched her, aware that something had been left unfinished. "Okay."
"…Good," Iyo said, her fingers trembling slightly.
Yuna shifted on the bed. "So… I should leave now, right? This is your room. I can't sleep here. You understand what I mean, right?"
The words landed heavier than they should have. Iyo's expression changed instantly. "…Why?"
It was too honest. "…Ah… right," Iyo corrected with a faint, awkward smile. "I'm sorry. You're right."
Yuna didn't question it. "It's okay." She began to stand, still healing. Iyo almost stopped her, her hand moving then freezing before dropping to her side.
"…I'll have a room prepared for you."
"Thank you," Yuna said. She stepped out, and the room immediately felt larger and emptier.
The door closed too softly. Princess Iyo stood there until the sound finally registered. "…She left," she whispered. Her hand lifted as if she could still stop her, but it was too late.
She sat where Yuna had been, her fingers pressing against the fabric. It was still warm. "…Why didn't I… I could have just asked."
*Stay.* One word she hadn't said. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling, her chest tight with an unfamiliar feeling.
"…I didn't even know who you were this morning… and now…" She closed her eyes, hearing Yuna's voice. *You're safe. That's enough.*
"…It's not enough," Iyo whispered to the empty room.
She sat up suddenly, instinct pushing her to go after her, to fix it. But she froze halfway. The invisible weight of her responsibility—of being Princess Iyo—held her back. She sank back down.
"…I'll see her tomorrow."
It was a quiet promise. She lay back, but sleep didn't come. For the first time, her thoughts weren't about duty or the kingdom. They were about a girl who said almost nothing and somehow stayed, even after leaving.