"Lane... how did you get outside? The door was locked," Astria asked.
Her voice trembling slightly as her eyes darted toward the open window and back to him.
"Did you jump from that height? Do you have any idea how much danger is out there?"
Lane offered no answer.
He simply stared at her with his unblinking crimson eyes.
As if her questions were from a world he no longer belonged to.
Astria exhaled a long, heavy breath and sank to her knees.
Her silk dress fanning out across the floor.
Her gaze fell upon Lane's legs.
While his black leather boots were caked in dry mud, something else caught her eye and made her heart tighten.
On the pristine white trousers Lane wore, a dark red blotch was beginning to spread near the knee.
She hadn't seen the wound itself yet.
But the way the blood seeped through the fibers of the white fabric told her everything she needed to know.
The contrast of the sharp red against the pure white was a silent alarm.
With immense tenderness, she supported Lane and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed.
Remaining on the floor at his feet, she began to untie the white laces of his heavy black boots with trembling fingers.
Once the boots were removed, she carefully rolled up the blood-stained fabric of his trousers.
To finally see the extent of the injury hidden beneath.
Under the cloth, she saw a jagged scratch.
Though it was already starting to fade under the influence of his vampire blood.
Astria bowed her head, her fingers hovering near the healing skin.
"Just stay still for a moment..." she whispered.
"It will heal on its own."
Lane's mysterious smile had finally stilled the storm raging inside Astria.
Her face, which had been flushed with fury moments ago, was now etched with lines of deep concern.
Steadying her voice, she asked in a low whisper—
"Lane... how did you get outside? The door was locked."
Her eyes flickered toward the window before returning to him.
"Did you jump from that height? Do you have any idea how much danger is out there?"
Lane offered no answer.
He simply watched her with his crimson eyes.
Astria let out a long, heavy sigh and sank to her knees.
Her silk dress spreading across the floor like a pool of ink.
Her gaze fell upon his black leather boots, now completely caked in mud.
A small, vibrant red stain had begun to bloom on his white trousers near the knee.
With great tenderness, Astria supported Lane and seated him on the edge of the bed.
She remained on the floor, her trembling hands beginning to untie the white laces of his heavy black boots.
Once freed, she set the boots aside and gently rolled up the fabric of his trousers to inspect the injury.
There was a deep scratch.
But under the influence of vampire blood, it was already knitting itself back together.
Astria's fingers brushed the skin near the wound with extreme gentleness.
She lowered her head and whispered to him, "Just stay still for a moment... it will heal on its own."
Silence descended upon the room once more, but this time it wasn't haunting.
Astria remained there, sitting at his feet and holding his legs as if she were terrified of losing him again.
Lane sat above her, watching her every move as if he were savoring the taste of her devotion.
"Stay quiet like this for a while... it will heal by itself," Astria repeated softly.
She rose slowly and stood directly in front of him, her eyes locking onto his.
She was visibly conflicted.
"Your eyes... why have they turned red, Lane?" she asked.
An unknown fear lacing her voice.
Lane blinked.
He continued to watch her in silence.
He had no inkling that the molten gold of his eyes had vanished.
He didn't even understand the concept of 'color' or what this bloody hue meant to others.
He heard her questions, but the worry behind them remained an unsolved puzzle to him.
"Are you hungry?" Astria asked, her hand lightly brushing his cheek.
Lane tilted his head slightly and said in a clear voice, "No."
His words were no longer broken as they once were; they carried a new clarity and weight.
Astria took his face between both of her hands.
"Can you change the color of these eyes back?" she asked with hopeful eyes.
As if searching for the innocent, golden-eyed boy she had first known.
But Lane had no answer.
He wasn't even aware of the change.
Suddenly, Astria made a sharp, desperate decision.
Using a sharp nail, she sliced a deep cut into one of her own fingers.
A thick, ruby droplet of blood welled up.
Without a second thought, she pressed her finger against Lane's lips.
She believed that her 'Queen's Blood' would calm the terrifying glow in his eyes and return him to normal.
Lane silently consumed the blood.
But contrary to Astria's hopes, nothing changed.
The red shimmer in his eyes did not fade; instead, it became even more fixed and steady.
Most unsettling of all was the lack of reaction.
Lane showed no 'vampire' hunger or attraction toward the blood.
He didn't become excited, nor did he crave more.
He simply sat there, as if the blood were nothing more than an ordinary liquid.
Astria's hand trembled.
She realized then that Lane was becoming something far beyond her control.
"Perhaps you just need rest," Astria whispered, a flicker of defeat crossing her eyes.
She gently guided Lane to lie down on the regal bed and pulled the silken duvet up to his chest.
"You should sleep now."
Lane closed his crimson eyes, but behind his eyelids, there was no trace of sleep.
Outside, the pitch-black night had deepened.
And beyond the window, countless stars scattered their cold, shimmering light.
Astria exhaled a long, weary breath and moved toward a massive, velvet royal sofa in the corner of the room.
She sank into it like a tired warrior.
Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the pull of exhaustion.
And slowly, her consciousness began to fade.
Lying on the bed, Lane felt a strange, hollow void.
As if a vital part of him or his most precious possession had been stripped away.
He lifted his small hands in the darkness; they felt utterly empty and lifeless.
When he tried to close his eyes again, he felt a phantom sensation.
As if someone were tenderly brushing against his fingers.
The touch was so comforting that a sense of peace washed over his face.
But the moment he opened his eyes, there was only a thick silence and the pale streaks of moonlight.
He was entirely alone.
The weight of that loneliness made him restless.
Without making a sound, he slid off the bed.
His footsteps instinctively leading him toward the sofa where Astria slept.
He stood right beside her, releasing a soft whisper into the cold air—
"Astria..."
He watched her peaceful face for a long while.
Then, he quietly sat down at the edge of the sofa, curling up as close to her as possible.
The moment his body touched hers, all of Lane's restlessness vanished.
He leaned his head against her shoulder and closed his eyes.
Within moments, he drifted into a deep, tranquil slumber.
Sometime later, Astria stirred.
Feeling a slight weight on her shoulder, she looked down, and her breath caught.
Lane was asleep against her, his innocent face finally at rest.
With immense tenderness, Astria shifted his head from her shoulder and placed it in her lap.
She rested one arm along the back of the sofa, leaning her face against her hand as she gazed out the window.
In the distance, the sky was a tapestry of glittering stars.
As she watched the shimmering celestial lights, Astria didn't realize when her own eyelids began to grow heavy once more.
In that dim starlight, wrapped in the silence of the vast palace, the two of them fell asleep together.