Time did not pass gently.

It didn’t glide.

It dragged on.

The first hours still carried an active tension—constant movements, attentive glances, repeated attempts to provoke any reaction from Damon. But as the clock ticked on, what had once been urgency began to transform into something heavier… more silent.

Persistence.

Damon didn’t move.

There were no spasms.

There was no worsening.

But there was no improvement either.

And that—

that was what was most exhausting.

The morning light, which had previously filled the room with a soft, natural tone, began to slowly change over the hours. The vibrant gold gave way to paler tones, then cooler ones, and at a certain point—almost imperceptible—it was no longer morning.

It was late.

And yet—

Nothing.

Elizabeth remained by his side the entire time.

Without interruptions.

No distractions.

Sitting on the edge of the sofa, her posture still impeccable, but with small signs of wear appearing in the details—the slight tension in her fingers, the slower blinking, the gaze that, though firm, now carried a greater depth than before.

Her hand remained close to Damon’s arm.

Sometimes touching.

Sometimes just… there.

As if she needed that proximity to confirm, repeatedly, that he was still present.

And he was.

But distant.

Very distant.

Aria couldn’t maintain the same rhythm.

In the first few hours, she tried.

She moved around the room, approached, moved away, observed from different angles, tried to interpret it with the same curious lightness that normally guided her actions.

But it wasn’t light.

And little by little, that began to show.

She ended up sitting on the floor, leaning sideways against the sofa, close to Damon’s legs, her knees bent, her arms resting on them. Her gaze, which had previously toyed with possibilities, now remained fixed on him with constant attention—less analytical, more… personal.

At one point, without saying anything, she reached out.

Her fingers lightly touched his ankle.

They stayed there.

Movementless.

No comment.

As if that were enough.

But it wasn’t.

And she knew it.

Morgana was the one who had changed the most over time.

In the beginning, she was pure movement.

Calling.

Trying.

Denying what she saw.

But the body cannot sustain constant despair for long.

At some point—no one knew exactly when—she simply… stopped.

Now, she was sitting on the floor, close to Damon’s head, her back against the sofa, one hand still holding his, as if afraid to let go and discover that it would make a difference.

Her head was slightly tilted to the side, close to his arm, her eyes fixed on his face.

But there were no more words.

Her breathing was still not completely steady.

And every now and then—

She squeezed his hand.

A little harder.

As if testing.

As if waiting for an answer that didn’t come.

Ester—

Ester didn’t allow herself to relax.

Not for a second.

She changed position several times over the hours, but never truly moved away. At times she was standing, observing; at others, crouching; at others, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

But her eyes—

Never left him.

She monitored everything.

Breathing. Heart rate.

Temperature.

Flow.

Energy.

And that… was the problem.

Because nothing was wrong.

Nothing out of place.

Nothing that justified it.

And the more time passed—

The more it bothered her.

At a certain point in the afternoon, she approached again, kneeling beside Elizabeth. She took two fingers to Damon’s wrist, pressing precisely, as she had done before.

Silence.

A few seconds.

Then—

She released it slowly.

“No change,” she murmured.

Elizabeth didn’t answer.

But her eyes… reacted.

“It keeps rising,” Ester added, more quietly.

Aria raised her gaze slightly.

“Rising… how much?”

Ester hesitated for half a second.

Enough to be noticed.

“…consistently.”

Morgana frowned, her voice lower, more tired.

“That still doesn’t tell me if it’s good.”

Ester didn’t answer immediately.

Her eyes returned to Damon.

And remained there.

“…I don’t know yet.”

This—

This was worse than any negative answer.

The silence that followed was heavier.

Denser.

The hours continued to pass.

The light changed again.

Now, more orange.

The late afternoon was beginning to announce itself.

Aria was the first to show real physical exhaustion. Her body slid slightly against the sofa, her head resting to the side, her eyes still open, but slower.

She didn’t fall asleep.

But she came close.

At a certain point, she murmured, almost without realizing it:

“…he always does this…”

No one answered.

But everyone heard.

Morgana couldn’t completely contain herself.

It was subtle.

But it happened.

A moment when she brought her free hand to her face, partially covering her eyes, pressing them hard enough to hold back something that insisted on coming.

Her breath faltered for an instant.

And returned.

More controlled.

But not completely.

Elizabeth noticed.

Of course she noticed.

But she said nothing.

She only moved her hand slightly—not towards Morgana—but adjusting her own position, as if that small gesture was her way of… remaining present.

Esther closed her eyes for a brief second.

Just one.

When she opened them again—

They were even more alert.

Even more focused.

As if she were forcing her mind not to succumb to exhaustion.

And then—

Night arrived.

Unceremoniously.

The natural light disappeared completely, replaced by the mansion’s interior lighting, which now seemed colder than before. The shadows lengthened, filling the corners of the room with a more striking presence.

Ten o’clock.

Ten hours since he fell.

And nothing had changed.

But… at the same time—

Everything had changed.

Because the atmosphere was no longer the same.

The initial tension had transformed into something deeper.

More silent.

More difficult to sustain.

Aria finally closed her eyes for a few seconds.

Just a few.

When she opened them again, her gaze went straight to Damon.

“…he’ll wake up,” she murmured, more to herself than to the others.

Elizabeth answered this time.

Softly.

Calmly.

But firmly.

“He will.”

Morgana squeezed his hand again.

This time, more forcefully.

“…he has to wake up.”

Ester said nothing.

But her position shifted slightly.

She moved closer. Moving closer to the sofa.

Closer to him.

As if, without admitting it, she too was… waiting.

And in the midst of that silence—

Between controlled breaths, tired glances, and a wait that seemed endless—

Damon remained there.

Momentary.

Intact.

But carrying within him something that neither of them could see.

Something that—

Very soon—

They wouldn’t be able to ignore.

Night had already fully settled in when the sound finally broke the silence of the room.

It wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t abrupt.

But it was enough.

Footsteps.

Firm.

Controlled.

Coming from the hallway.

Ester was the first to react, as always. Her gaze immediately shifted to the entrance, her body already subtly adjusting, prepared—not in open tension, but in silent readiness. Aria lifted her face immediately, blinking a few times as if emerging from an almost static state, while Morgana also turned her head slightly, still holding Damon’s hand.

Elizabeth—

She didn’t move immediately.

But her eyes… did.

They shifted.

And focused.

The door opened unceremoniously.

And Lily entered.

Her steps maintained their usual lightness, almost carefree at first glance, but there was a slight accumulation of tiredness in her movements—subtle, almost imperceptible to someone inattentive, but completely visible to someone who knew what to observe. Her gaze quickly scanned the room as soon as she crossed the threshold, registering the position of each of them in a matter of seconds.

And then—

She stopped.

On Damon.

Lying down.

Momentary.

The entire room carried that feeling.

She arched an eyebrow slightly.

“…okay,” she murmured, as if mentally reorganizing the situation before her. “I was gone for a few hours and missed… this?”

No one answered immediately.

Because, in a way—

There wasn’t a simple answer.

Lily took a few more steps into the room, approaching slowly but intently. Her eyes never left Damon, analyzing him from head to toe as she closed the distance.

“He passed out?” she asked directly.

Morgana was the first to answer, her voice still carrying traces of weariness.

“Out of nowhere.”

Aria let out a small sigh through her nose, resting her chin on her bent arm.

“Just like that. He got up, took two steps… and fell.”

Ester added, objectively:

“No physiological changes.”

Lily tilted her head slightly.

“No changes…?” she repeated, as if testing the phrase.

Her eyes then narrowed slightly.

She took another step.

Stopping beside the sofa.

And then—

Without asking.

Without warning.

She reached out.

She touched two fingers to Damon’s neck.

She stayed there for a few seconds.

In silence.

Feeling.

Reading.

And then—

She withdrew her hand.

She shrugged.

“He’ll wake up.”

Silence.

Morgana immediately frowned.

“How can you say that so—”

“Because he’s not broken,” Lily replied, interrupting naturally, without even looking directly at her. Her tone wasn’t harsh—just direct. “If he were, I’d feel it.”

Aria tilted her head slightly, curious.

“And what are you feeling?”

Lily gave a small, almost lazy half-smile.

“Movement.”

Ester observed her more closely.

“You noticed it too.”

Lily finally looked at her.

“It wasn’t difficult.”

Elizabeth, who had remained silent until then, spoke:

“It’s more intense now.”

Lily nodded slightly.

“It’s been growing since I entered the mansion,” she replied simply.

That information—

It changed the atmosphere.

Morgana squeezed Damon’s hand a little tighter.

“…so it started earlier?” she murmured.

“Probably,” Ester replied.

But Lily was no longer focused on that.

Her eyes shifted from Damon.

And went directly to Elizabeth.

Without hesitation.

Without transition.

“I did it.”

The word was simple.

But it carried weight.

Elizabeth didn’t hesitate to answer.

Her gaze met Lily’s immediately.

“No interference?”

“Zero,” Lily replied. “Just as you asked.”

There was a brief silence.

And then—

Elizabeth nodded.

A single movement.

But enough.

“Great.”

The answer came with a tranquility that contrasted with the tense atmosphere around her, but it wasn’t carelessness—it was control. It was someone who received exactly what she expected.

Aria raised an eyebrow slightly.

“…do you want to share this with the rest of the room, or is this one of those mysterious moments that we just accept?”

Lily gave her a slight sideways glance.

“It’s not fun enough for you.”

Aria made a slightly offended expression.

“That’s subjective.”

Ester let out a small sigh through her nose. But Elizabeth didn’t engage in the exchange.

Her eyes were still on Lily.

Assessing.

Confirming.

And then—

She spoke again.

“Give it a moment.”

Lily tilted her head slightly.

“Now?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth replied, without changing her tone. “You’ve done what you needed to.”

There was a brief silence.

Lily glanced at Damon again.

Then at the rest of the room.

And then—

She shrugged.

“Fair enough.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep