The two leaders were admitted in a room separate from the main ward with thick stone walls and wooden doors. The click of distant footsteps and murmurs of other patients echoed behind the door, their isolated chamber packed far beyond capacity as soldiers and maids crowded around their respective person of interest. They offered tankards of water, bags of ice, crackers - anything to help and garner favor. A cluster of imperial maids, much to Cressida's dismay, hovered around Naomi insistently as they adjusted her pillows and tucked the blankets beneath her body. One dabbed at her forehead with a cool cloth as another massaged her hands gently, two combing through her thick locks as the nurse struggled to find a spot to take Naomi's vitals. Still, it was a strange sensation to feel the complete absence of pain for the first time in weeks. She felt better than she had in a long time, at least physically.

On an adjacent cot barely more than a leap away from her, Cassien laid with his arms crossed and eyes closed in annoyance as his flock of followers bumbled around in incompetence. The two opposing rulers tried their best to ignore each other, their faces tilted away.

"Uh… Your Grace, do you want your pillows fluffed? Or maybe another blanket?" A younger boy questioned, awkwardly fumbling with the bedding as another tugged in the opposite direction.

"I didn't sign up for nurse duty…" One coughed.

Another scratched his head. "I don't think I'm supposed to touch the duke's cape… but does he look a little warm to you guys?"

The groupie of men shuffled around awkwardly, both unsure of what to do next and afraid to disrupt the duke.

"Looks like the women have this figured out," Cassien muttered. "while I'm stuck with a bunch of lost puppies."

"You should try barking at them more often," Thom chuckled, clapping Cassien's shoulder as he slipped away to stand beside Kabarro several feet away. He could feel Cassien's eyes burning a hole from behind him.

Kabarro leaned in closer to Thom, who merely watched the scene with amusement. "Is it really a good idea to put him in a bed right beside… you know? That witch?"

Some of the other men who stood nearby nodded slowly, their narrowed eyes glaring towards Naomi, her face unreadable. "I heard she did a real number on the duke. Guess it's true what they say about southerners."

Thom spoke to Kabarro without turning, his eyes focused on the stony duchess. "Don't worry. If she so much as sneezes in Cassien's direction, I'll kick her out myself - she-witch or not. Seductresses like her have no business being around the duke."

A pair of shoes screeched to a halt beside Thom. "Excuse me! What did you just say?"

The group turned their heads to see a woman dressed in maids' wear, with sharply cut red hair staring daggers at him, holding a tankard of water in her hands. He barely had time to blink before Cressida flung her cup at him, drenching his face and tailored shirt in cold water. The men stepped back in disbelief, the room falling silent as the water dribbled onto the floor - before everything erupted.

"Did she just-"

"That maid threw-!"

"That's the duchess's handmaid isn't it-?"

"She probably told her to do that, how typical-"

Thom sputtered, wiping the water from his face. "Are you insane? Do you know who I am!? I am the son of Marquis Paldarin!"

Cressida's small fists clenched as she forced her lip to stop quivering. "Don't talk about my lady in that manner, ever again! You might be a lord but certainly not a gentleman!"

"You dare speak to me that way, a mere maid?" Thom's jaw tightened as he stepped forward. "You should learn your place-"

"Lord Paldarin," Naomi's voice cut through the tension with quiet authority, her voice uncharacteristically cold with anger. "If anyone deserves reprimand, it would be for those who disrespects others under my care."

All eyes in the room turned to the duchess in a quiet hush as she spoke. Even Cassien could not hold himself back from looking; a deep ache stirred in his chest at the sight of her, as if he were seeing her again for the very first time. Silver-blonde hair fell in wavy cascades, framing the delicacy of her face, faint freckles twinkling with gentleness. Yet her eyes burned with fury, her voice filled with ferocity as she spoke, despite the bruising of her throat still raw and apparent. Even with the guarded walls that he had put up, it hurt him deeply to see her; the sight of her injuries made his stomach twist with regret that he couldn't stop her assailant sooner.

Thom opened his mouth to speak, but Naomi cut him off with a wave of her hand. Her pale eyes locked onto his, voice low and firm. "I've heard worse from those far above your station than just a 'she-witch.' Try harder."

Naomi made eye contact with Kabarro, who turned his head away in shame.

"Your opinions on who I am as a person mean nothing to me. But make no mistake: you will respect me as Duchess, and that is not optional." Her gaze sharpened back to Thom, blue eyes steely and unwavering.

"What I do care about is how you speak to my people. They are loyal, capable, and deserving of respect no matter their position. If you refuse to uphold such basic decency, then consider this your first and only warning."

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The room fell into a stunned silence, every movement halted in shock. Thom stood frozen, his cheeks flushed from more than just the cold water. Cressida's face was flush with pride, her heart full with affection for her duchess - her friend.

"What is going on here?" A sharp voice demanded as the doors burst open.

A senior nurse with braided grey hair stepped forward into the room, eyes blazing with authority. "If you are not a patient, clear out immediately. This is a place of rest, not a theater!"

The gathered soldiers, maids, and onlookers exchanged hurried glances, shuffling away sheepishly. Thom threw a glare towards both Cressida and Naomi, and a final glance at Cassien before departing.

Naomi settled back against her pillows as Cressida, still glowing with pride, rushed over with a gentle hug. "Thank you, my lady."

"That includes you, miss. Visitation hours are over!" The nurse snapped at Cressida. She squeaked, giving Naomi one last squeeze before the nurse ushered her out.

The heavy wooden doors shut with a dull thud, muffling the footsteps and chatter of the main ward once more. A quiet awkwardness filled the space as the two either would not - or could not - find the words to break it.

Time crawled at a snail's pace, and Naomi suddenly found the ceiling as the most interesting part of the room. Her breathing was shallow, fearful that if it were a single decibel higher, it would shatter the illusion that neither existed to each other as they laid in silence.

She had run through hundreds of scenarios in her mind since her talk with Cressida, but still she couldn't find the courage to face Cassien. He deserved a million-and-one apologies - this, she knew - but would he even want it? Would it just make things worse? The best situation she could hope for was not quite friendly rivalry, but even a quiet, cold war between Monroe and Rivain would be enough. As for whatever could be salvaged of their relationship, remained to be seen.

Cassien's deep voice cracked the silence at last, her stomach dropping at the sound of his familiarity. "It must've felt good to put Thom in his place."

A giggle escaped her lips, unexpected and warm, stomach fluttering. "Well… He was treating my friend poorly."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "He's a good guy on the inside, but... I'm glad you didn't let him get away with it."

Naomi held a small smile for herself, her mind scrambling for a response but finding none. Silence crept through the room once more.

Cassien cleared his throat. "I should've come to find you sooner."

Her chest tightened at his admission. "...I should've as well."

"I don't blame you for not wanting to. I should never have let you split off from me back from the halls. When you went for the right hall… letting you go off on your own was the biggest mistake I've ever made." Regret deeply laced through every word as he spoke. "And I... I'm sorry, with speaking to Henric first, without talking to you. It was wrong of me - and I know I'd have reacted the same way that you did."

Naomi swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze. Her stomach twisted as he continued. "Simply saying 'sorry' will never be enough for what happened to you."

Say something to him, She thought to herself, a million thoughts running through her mind at once. DO something, anything!

She looked at him then, deliberately, for the first time in weeks. His jawline was sharp with tension, the shadows beneath his eyes darker than she'd ever seen. His midnight hair had grown out slightly, swooping back in waves and framing his strikingly handsome face. He looked at her too in that exact moment, and for a single breath, the same look of vulnerability passed between them.

"You… You don't have to- you shouldn't be apologizing to me," Naomi blurted out. "It was me. It was all me."

"Naomi-"

"No, don't try to defend me," Her voice was distraught. "I lost the bird you gave me. Instead of coming clean, I cut you off, like it was inevitable that you would be everything I've ever been told. Everything I actually knew about you… I threw it away, like it was nothing."

Naomi ran her hands through her hair as she gave a half-laugh, half-sob, looking away. "You don't owe me an apology or any kind of forgiveness. I'm less than deserving of it - and I'm sorry it took me so long to finally admit it."

Cassien was quiet for some time. "...At the very least, I hope you find it within you to forgive yourself. Alistair gave me the bird - I assume he took it from you. You didn't gift it to him."

"I would never give it away."

She blinked away tears, her voice hoarse. "After everything… How are you so okay? You should hate me, resent me."

"I didn't say I wasn't bitter," He replied in a low voice. "But hating you takes more strength than I have in me - I know why you acted the way you did. And I have plenty of hate directed at someone else already."

Her heart stuttered at his words. "You mean…?"

"Yes," He gritted his teeth. "Alistair Seraveth. That bastard is going to pay for everything he did."

"And what will revenge accomplish?"

"It'll make things right - make it even. For what he did to you, the prince and princess, this entire city and its people, and for me," Cassien replied harshly. "Don't tell me you never considered it."

"Why would I? What good would that do for us now?"

"So you'd just let him get away with it?"

Their eyes met as Naomi's brow scrunched. "I don't think revenge is going to help the way you think it will."

"With all due respect," Cassien's jaw tightened ever so slightly. "Your thoughts on this matter doesn't hold the same weight as it did before."

Naomi's first instinct was to feel offended, a rebuke readied at her lips - but her breath caught as she realized that deep down, he had every right to dismiss her from the pedestal she had been atop of.

She cleared her throat as she looked away. "Then don't pretend like I'm part of the reason why you want revenge - don't make yourself out to be some vigilante for justice. You're out for blood, pure and simple."

"And what if I am?" He said curtly.

"Then you're not the man I thought you were."

Cassien exhaled a laugh, clipped and almost unkind. "So much for asking for my forgiveness, huh? Guess I really am a northern brute after all."

The sting of his words cut deeper than she cared to admit, reeling towards him as she stood from her cot. "Could you blame me? Seeing as you think it's fine to use other people as a sick justification for settling a debt."

He turned to her, body tense. "It's not like I'm dragging you or anyone else out to fight him with me."

"Then don't use me or my honor as an excuse to do so!"

Cassien rose to meet her, his broad frame casting a long shadow as he looked down at Naomi. He ignored the pain that ran across his chest - it was better this way, if she hated him - as the next words flew out his mouth.

"...Maybe it's best if we don't associate with one another anymore."

Her eyes flickered with something indescribable. "Maybe it is."

Naomi's heart pounded as she stood her ground, fists clenched at her sides. Cassien's golden eyes narrowed, his every muscle taut. This was the closest they had been since the incident; Naomi focused every ounce of willpower she had not to drown in his scent, and he in the pools of her eyes. But whether it was because of sheer stubbornness or a deep resentment, neither dared move another muscle or to speak another word.

The air between them crackled with unyielding fire, thick with tension; so much left unsaid, but every hurt too deep for words to express.

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