Chapter 117: Quiet Doubts in the Hallway

Adam pushed the door of the sickroom closed behind them with a soft click. The corridor was dim, lit only by a single lantern hanging from a beam. The three of them walked in silence for a few steps before Lilith spoke, her voice low and measured.

“Our disguises are good,” she said, “but not perfect. Elise saw through us the moment you touched her. If a dying princess with a soul curse can sense our nature so easily… others might too. Mages. Inquisitors. Even ordinary people with sharp instincts.”

Ignis rubbed the back of her neck, golden eyes flicking toward the closed door they had just left.

“I almost lost it when she said it out loud,” she admitted, voice quieter than usual. “My first thought was—kill her before she tells anyone. Old habits from the dungeon, you know? Humans always scream ’monster’ and swing swords first.”

Adam stopped walking and turned to face them both.

“No killing without reason,” he said firmly, though his tone wasn’t harsh—just resolute. “She didn’t scream. She offered a deal instead. That’s not the same as the adventurers who hunted us for gold.”

Ignis huffed, crossing her arms, but she didn’t argue.

Lilith tilted her head slightly, white hair shifting like silk in the lantern light.

“What she offers isn’t a bad trade,” Adam continued, exhaling slowly. “We need information. There’s no guarantee the Archivist in Asmodeus’s territory knows anything about void corruption or soul damage like Alice’s. But this one—the one Elise is heading toward—specializes in curses, bindings, lost rites. If anyone might have answers, it’s him.”

Lilith nodded once, thoughtful.

“I agree. The risk is high, but the potential reward outweighs it. Still…” She paused, crimson eyes narrowing slightly. “I am surprised. Elise remained calm—composed—even after realizing we are not human.”

Ignis snorted softly.

“Right? Every human we met down there wanted us dead on sight. ’Monster this, abomination that.’ Swords out before we even opened our mouths.”

Adam’s gaze drifted toward the window at the end of the hall, where the first hints of dawn were graying the sky.

“That’s exactly why this is good,” he said quietly. “There are humans who don’t immediately reach for a weapon when they see something different. Who talk first. Who look for solutions instead of slaughter. If we’re going to walk the surface world… we need to know that kind exists.”

He let out a long, tired sigh and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Looks like we’re going to impose on Philip and Aish one more night.”

———×———

The door clicked shut behind Adam and his companions. The room fell quiet again, save for the soft crackle of the small hearth and the distant murmur of the waking village outside.

Seraphina stood rigid beside the cot, one hand still resting on the pommel of her sword. Her short blonde hair was disheveled, her armor dented and blood-streaked from the night before, yet her posture remained that of a knight on duty—spine straight, eyes sharp.

She waited until the footsteps in the corridor faded completely before speaking, voice low and urgent.

“Your Highness… are we certain about this? About them?”

Elise leaned back against the pillows, the faintest trace of color returning to her cheeks now that the curse had quieted again. She studied the closed door for a long moment, gray eyes thoughtful.

Seraphina pressed on, unable to hold back.

“They’re not human. You said it yourself. Their auras are… wrong. We’ve seen what creatures like that can do. And now we’re inviting them to walk beside us—into Solaria, no less. If they turn on us—”

“They won’t,” Elise interrupted gently.

Seraphina’s jaw tightened. “You can’t know that.”

A small, tired smile curved Elise’s lips—almost playful, though the exhaustion beneath it was unmistakable.

“Oh, Sera…” she said, voice light with a touch of teasing. “If they wanted us dead, we’d already be dead. You saw how they fought last night. That power… they could have ended the lich, the village, and us in the same breath if they wished.”

She paused, gaze drifting to the window where dawn light was beginning to spill across the floorboards.

“But they didn’t. They protected a village they owed nothing to. They protected us who brought a bunch of undead into the village. And when the curse flared again tonight… Adam didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward. He touched me. He took the risk.”

Seraphina exhaled sharply through her nose, arms crossing over her chest.

“That doesn’t make them trustworthy. It makes them… unpredictable.”

Elise’s smile softened into something warmer, more certain.

“Unpredictable is better than cruel. And kindness—even pragmatic kindness—is rarer than you think.”

She shifted slightly, wincing as the movement tugged at lingering soreness in her limbs.

Seraphina’s shoulders sagged a fraction, though her frown remained.

“You’re too trusting, Highness.”

“And you’re too suspicious,” Elise countered with gentle humor. “We balance each other. That’s why we’re still alive.”

Seraphina finally sat on the edge of a stool beside the cot, armor clinking softly. She rubbed her face with gauntleted hands.

“You told them about the Veil of Kin. You showed your hand too soon.”

Elise sighed, leaning her head back.

“I had to. Words alone wouldn’t have convinced them. They’ve spent too long being hunted. They needed to see the value—real, immediate value. And they needed to know I’m willing to risk my own life to keep my word.”

She closed her eyes briefly.

“Besides… I felt it again tonight. When he suppressed the curse. When he was close. The weight lifted. Not just the pain—the heaviness that’s lived in my chest since childhood. For the first time in years… I could breathe without feeling like something was crushing me from the inside.”

Seraphina’s eyes widened slightly.

“You think… he’s the key?”

“I don’t know,” Elise admitted. “But when I’m near him, the curse quiets. It doesn’t disappear—it retreats. Like it’s… afraid. Or wary. And that feeling of lightness… it’s the closest thing to freedom I’ve known since the curse took root.”

She opened her eyes again, gaze distant but resolute.

“If he truly can keep it at bay until we reach the Archivist… maybe—just maybe—he’s the one who will finally let me live without a shadow stitched to my soul.”

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