Understanding dawned slowly in Zephyr's eyes.
Ah.
So that's how it is.
This junior really did like that vampire.
The realization settled with a quiet weight. Zephyr understood it too well. He himself hadn't hesitated to give his life if Adler had asked—but Adler already died for him.
Sylene knew how foolish it sounded—to trust someone so completely, to believe they would never hurt you.
And yet—
Sir Melchior was different.
He had never hurt Sylene before. Not once. And somehow, Sylene believed—deeply, stubbornly—that he never would. Not now. Not in the future.
The thought slipped in unguarded, and his heart raced before he could stop it.
After talking with Zephyr, the memories surfaced instead of fading—the way Sir Melchior spoke to him, the way he watched over him without demanding anything in return. The kindness wasn't imagined. It had always been there.
Then maybe… if he confessed—
Maybe Sir Melchior wouldn't get angry.
The idea made Sylene's breath hitch.
