Chapter 32: Zenash does not like her fiancé getting hurt, and Yruza feels the same.

Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Zenash does not like her fiancé getting hurt, and Yruza feels the same.

Several days had passed since both Draven and Taliah woke up in the capital of Fernus, and the recovery had been slow.

Taliah was still spending most of her time resting. The healers had managed to reconstruct the damaged organs, but that did not mean she could get up and return to training immediately.

Her body needed time.

Draven was in a different situation, since he could walk and move without help, but his left arm was still covered in bandages and required constant sessions with the healers to recover both mobility and sensation.

His fingers were already responding better, but the shoulder remained the main problem, and any sudden movement produced pain.

Draven had been told several times to avoid using it, but he had ignored the advice twice, and after the second attempt the healer threatened to immobilize his arm completely.

Since then he had decided to cooperate.

That morning he was returning to his room after another checkup when one of the palace servants found him in the hallway.

"Lord Dunvyr."

Draven stopped.

"Yes?"

"Lady Zenash requests to see you."

Draven sighed.

"Requests?"

The servant kept a serious expression.

"That is correct."

"With exactly that word?"

There was a small pause.

"Not really."

Draven closed his eyes.

"What did she say?"

The servant looked uncomfortable.

"That I was to bring you to her immediately."

"That sounds more like what she would say."

Draven already knew what it meant.

Zenash had visited the room where Taliah was staying several times and had also come to see him, but they had never really spoken about what had happened.

There had always been doctors, guards, servants, or Taliah herself.

It was obvious she had been waiting for the right moment, and that moment had arrived, so Draven followed the servant.

They crossed several hallways until they reached a private room inside one of the areas reserved for the royal family.

The servant opened the door, so Draven entered and saw that Zenash was there along with Yruza.

’Great.’

The door closed behind him.

Zenash was seated at a table while Yruza remained standing behind her with a completely professional posture.

Draven knew both of them well enough to notice they were angry, and very much so.

Zenash pointed to a chair.

"Sit."

Draven obeyed.

"Good morning."

Zenash did not reply, so Draven waited, while Yruza said nothing either and the silence began to grow uncomfortable, so Draven decided to break it.

"How are you?"

Zenash looked at him.

"How am I?"

"That’s right."

"Furious."

"I understand."

"No, you don’t."

Zenash leaned slightly forward.

"Because if you did, you would not have returned to the capital with an arm separated from your body and on the verge of death."

Draven lowered his gaze to his reconstructed arm.

"But now it’s attached."

Zenash narrowed her eyes while Yruza slightly turned her head, and Draven recognized that reaction.

’She was trying not to smile.’

Zenash did not find the comment funny.

"Draven."

"All right, all right."

"Do you find all of this funny?"

"No, it’s not that."

"You almost died."

"I know."

"And Taliah did too."

Draven stopped answering, since that eliminated any attempt at humor, and Zenash continued.

"The soldiers arrived and found two bodies that were practically destroyed."

"We were still alive."

"Barely."

Draven remained silent, and Zenash stood up.

"I gave you an emergency item for a reason."

"And I used it."

"After ending up in a pitiful state."

Draven opened his mouth, and Zenash raised a hand.

"No."

Draven closed his mouth.

"I told you that if any problem occurred, you were to withdraw."

"That’s what I did."

Zenash stared at him, and Draven corrected himself.

"Eventually."

"After killing a legendary creature and facing an unknown opponent."

"Yes, but..."

"That is not withdrawing."

"Technically, we were withdrawing when he appeared."

Zenash took a deep breath, so Draven decided to stop talking, since that was the smartest thing to do while she sat back down.

"I am going to assign you a personal guard."

Draven immediately raised his gaze.

"No."

Zenash frowned.

"That was not a question."

"My answer is still no."

"You need protection."

"I can already protect myself."

Zenash looked at his arm, and Draven followed the direction of her eyes.

"Don’t use that as an argument."

"It’s an excellent argument."

"It was an exceptional situation."

"Precisely because of that, you need someone with you."

"I don’t need it."

Zenash gently tapped the table with her fingers.

"Draven."

"Zenash."

"I am the heir of Fernus."

"I know."

"I can give you an elite escort."

"I know that too."

"Then stop arguing."

"No."

Yruza spoke for the first time.

"I agree with Zenash."

Draven looked at her, and Yruza maintained a completely neutral expression.

"What a surprise."

"Your ability to keep yourself out of danger has been called into serious question."

"Thanks."

"You’re welcome."

Zenash observed both of them, and Yruza continued.

"A personal guard would prevent you from making unnecessarily dangerous decisions."

Draven remained silent, and Yruza stared at him, but there was something behind that expression.

There was anger, concern, and something else that Zenash could not notice, but Draven could.

Yruza had had to see the state in which he returned, the wounds, the blood, and she could not react the way she wanted, not in front of Zenash.

Draven understood that this conversation was probably the only way she had to express part of her concern without raising suspicion.

Zenash crossed her arms.

"Then it’s decided."

"I haven’t accepted."

"Draven."

"I don’t want a guard following me inside the academy."

"They can keep their distance."

"I don’t want that either."

"Why are you so stubborn?"

"Because I don’t want to depend on an escort every time something happens."

Zenash answered quickly.

"That is exactly what you should do when someone is trying to kill you."

Draven sighed.

"Besides, the academy has its own security measures."

Yruza spoke.

"That doesn’t guarantee anything."

"I know."

"Then accept it."

"No."

Yruza slightly clenched her jaw, and Zenash looked at her.

"Do you see why this infuriates me?"

"Yes."

Draven looked at Yruza, who answered without changing her expression.

"Very much."

’This is going to be a long conversation.’