Chapter 251: Airam Wants Warmth

"You will begin lessons here next week."

Ulrich stood at the entrance of the Rubenhart Estate, facing Ceres beneath the cool evening sky.

Mark waited a step behind his granddaughter, a small travel bag in one hand. The carriage Ulrich had arranged for them stood at the edge of the drive, its black lacquered panels marked with the crimson crest of House Rubenhart. The driver sat ready at the reins, while several estate guards waited nearby to escort them safely back to the mansion Ulrich had provided in New Ruben.

Ceres looked up at him with a bright smile.

"I will be here," she said quickly. "Without fail, my lord."

Ulrich gave a short nod.

Then his gaze shifted to Mark.

"I will have guards stationed near the mansion until further notice," he said.

Mark's expression became more serious.

Ulrich continued, hardening his tone.

"Do not involve yourselves in unnecessary fights."

Mark lowered his head.

"M—My apologies, my lord."

There was genuine embarrassment in his voice. Mark had never been a man who sought conflict. The trouble in New Ruben had simply grown beyond his control. He had tried to protect Ceres. Others had threatened them. Ceres had panicked, and once the Thornbreath reacted, matters had become far more dangerous than either of them could have anticipated.

Still, Ulrich's warning was fair.

"I understand," Mark said. "It will not happen again."

"You may take Ceres outside when necessary," Ulrich added. "But not every day. And not without caution."

Both Mark and Ceres looked at him in surprise.

Until now, Ulrich had insisted that Ceres remain inside the mansion whenever possible. The Thornbreath Curse was too unpredictable. It drew danger toward her, monsters, mana-sensitive creatures, and people who might notice something unnatural in the quiet green-haired girl living under Rubenhart protection.

Ceres did not yet possess the control needed to handle attention, threats, or the curse's sudden reactions in public.

But Ulrich also understood that keeping her hidden forever would not solve the problem.

A cage was still a cage, even when it was built for protection.

Ceres had to learn how to exist beyond the walls of a guarded mansion. She had to learn how to walk through the world without flinching at every unfamiliar sound or shadow. She had to become strong enough to live without fear.

Ceres's face brightened.

"Thank you, my lord."

Ulrich looked back to Mark.

"If there is an emergency, come directly to me."

Mark nodded immediately.

"Yes, my lord."

"If Ceres experiences any change in her condition, you come directly to me."

"Yes."

Ulrich's expression hardened.

"Do not hesitate."

Mark's fingers hardened slightly around the handle of the travel bag.

He understood what Ulrich meant.

The Thornbreath Curse did not endanger only Ceres. If it became unstable, it could draw monsters toward New Ruben in overwhelming numbers. A true stampede could threaten the town, the nearby villages, and every civilian caught in its path.

Ulrich had no intention of allowing that possibility to grow unchecked.

At last, he turned his attention to Ceres.

"And you."

Ceres straightened immediately.

"If you feel anything unusual, you speak," Ulrich said. "If the Thornbreath changes, you speak. If you begin to feel pain, fear, anger, or anything that makes the curse react, you tell Mark, and then you come to me."

Ceres nodded.

"I will."

Then she hesitated.

A faint flush spread across her cheeks.

"Um… about the next session?"

Ulrich understood what she meant.

She meant the Thornbreath treatment.

He had not visited Ceres in New Ruben for some time. Camellia's event, his day of recovering, Airam's abduction, the battle at Hiddlestone, and everything that followed had left him with no opportunity to examine her condition properly, obviously.

Now that he had returned, Ceres expected him to continue the treatments.

"I will come tomorrow," Ulrich said. "Or the day after."

He needed to examine how the Thornbreath had changed after some of it entered his own body during the reattachment of his arm. He also needed to assess Ceres's condition after the strain of using the curse and her spirit magic to restore his severed limb.

But not today.

Today, merely remaining upright at the Estate entrance demanded more strength than he wished to admit.

Ceres's smile widened.

"I will wait for you, my lord."

Then she stepped forward.

Before Ulrich could react, Ceres wrapped her arms around his waist.

It was not forceful, but it held a certain strength.

"I will wait impatiently," she said softly.

Ulrich went completely still.

For a moment, he looked down at the top of Ceres's green head without knowing what to do.

Open affection had always taken him off guard.

Esther was easier to understand. She was younger and wore every emotion plainly on her face. When she hugged him, cried against him, or clung to his sleeve, Ulrich could awkwardly pat her head and tell her to stop crying. He understood that much. It was easier because she was pretty much a child at heart, even more than in her body.

But Airam had begun acting differently since Hiddlestone.

And now Ceres stood against him with flushed cheeks, holding him as though his presence alone had become something precious to her.

They were both older, and their age gap wasn't that big at all, literally one digit so it was different.

Ulrich did not understand what response was expected of him.

So he did nothing.

He stood silently, stiff with discomfort, and waited for Ceres to let go.

Behind him, the three sisters watched.

Airam's dark eyes had turned cold.

Hermione's expression darkened by degrees, though she said nothing.

Esther stood with her arms folded across her chest, her cheeks faintly puffed in a quiet sulk.

They had already watched Ulrich arrange guards for Ceres, provide her and Mark with a home, promise Ceres lessons, speak of Arcadia, and repeatedly insist that every danger be reported directly to him.

From their perspective, Ulrich appeared intensely protective of the new girl.

They did not know the full truth.

They did not know how dangerous the Thornbreath Curse could become if left unchecked.

They did not know that Ulrich's attention was not simple indulgence, nor the favor of a nobleman toward a vulnerable girl. It was the vigilance of someone trying to prevent a catastrophe before it began.

All they saw was Ceres receiving a kind of consideration that seemed unusually personal.

And now she was hugging him.

Airam's patience thinned further.

Hermione looked as though she was forcing herself not to say something sharp.

Esther only watched in silence, an uncomfortable feeling tightening in her chest.

At last, Ceres stepped back.

Her cheeks were still pink. She looked embarrassed by her own boldness, but she did not appear to regret it.

Instead, she smiled up at Ulrich one more time before turning toward Mark.

Mark bowed deeply.

"Thank you again, my lord."

Ulrich gave a brief nod.

Then Mark and Ceres made their way toward the carriage.

Before climbing inside, Ceres looked back once.

Ulrich remained at the entrance to the Estate, his hair stirring faintly in the night wind. His newly restored left arm remained held close to his side, still weak and not yet fully healed. Even injured, pale, and exhausted, he stood straight.

Ceres watched him for a moment longer.

Then she climbed into the carriage.

Mark followed after her.

The driver snapped the reins.

The horses began to move, and the carriage rolled down the long road leading away from the Rubenhart Estate, carrying Mark and Ceres back toward New Ruben.

Airam, Hermione, and Esther remained behind Ulrich.

None of them spoke.

Ulrich watched the carriage disappear beyond the estate gates.

Only after it was gone did he become aware of the silence behind him.

He turned his head slightly.

Three pairs of eyes were fixed on him.

Airam's gaze was unreadable.

Hermione's lips had thinned into a line.

Esther looked away with a small, stubborn frown.

"Get along with her," Ulrich said once more before turning away.

That was all he had the patience to say.

At the moment, he wanted only one thing.

Sleep.

The past week had been long enough to feel like a month. He had traveled to the capital, attended Camellia's event, got hurt, met Valdris on the way back, fought Valmorian soldiers, taken an unstable serum, lost an arm, nearly died, and now he was potentially dealing with the Thornbreath as well, though very minor compared to Ceres.

Ulrich wanted his routine back.

He wanted early mornings in the training yard. Reports from Fabian. Quiet meals. Mana research. The familiar order of the Estate.

Instead, he had demons to contact, Valmoria to consider, an incomplete recovery to endure, a newly restored arm that barely obeyed him, and three witches who had apparently decided that his personal boundaries were optional.

Ulrich climbed the stairs toward his room, moving more slowly than usual. His body still ached beneath the bandages, and the reattached arm remained stiff at his side. Every few steps, a dull throb traveled from his shoulder down to his fingertips.

Then he heard footsteps behind him.

Ulrich stopped.

The footsteps stopped as well.

He turned.

Airam stood several paces behind him in the corridor, her dark hair falling over one shoulder. She looked calm, as though following him through the Estate at night was the most natural thing in the world.

Ulrich narrowed his eyes.

"No."

Airam blinked once.

"I want to sleep."

"Sleep with your sisters," Ulrich replied.

He turned and continued toward his room.

"I want to sleep with you," Airam said behind him.

Ulrich stopped so suddenly that pain shot through his shoulder.

Airam continued in the same calm voice.

"I feel comfortable on your bed. It is warm, and it smells nice; it's hot—"

"Enough."

Ulrich winced and turned around again.

His gaze swept down the corridor at once, making sure no one heard Airam's very misleading words.

Because if anyone had heard that sentence, the Estate would be filled with rumors before sunrise.

Ulrich looked back at Airam with a sharp expression.

"I will find a way to deal with your nightmares," he said. "Until then, sleep with your sisters."

"....."

Airam stared at him for several seconds.

Her expression did not change, but something unreadable passed through her eyes.

Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

Ulrich watched her disappear around the corner.

Only after she was gone did he release a quiet breath.

At least she had listened.

That was new.

He entered his room and shut the door behind him.

Ulrich removed his coat, changed carefully, and lowered himself onto the mattress. He avoided putting pressure on his left side, keeping the bandaged arm supported as he lay back against the pillows.

For several minutes, he stared at the ceiling.

Things were calming down.

Ceres was safe in New Ruben. Airam had returned. The sisters were together again. Valdris had survived and would likely bury the events at Hiddlestone for his own sake. The Estate had weathered the immediate crisis.

But there were still too many unanswered questions.

The demons had not contacted him since the failed attempt on Kaliantha's life.

Ulrich had expected them to reach out eventually. Their plans had shifted too quickly. The assassination had failed. Valmoria had become involved, and now the situation surrounding the witches had grown even more dangerous.

Perhaps the demons were waiting to see where he stood.

Or perhaps they already doubted him, no they definitely doubted him.

It was up to Ulrich to change that.

He considered reaching out first.

It would be safer to learn their position before they decided to act without him.

But not tonight.

For once, Airam did not come to his room.

Ulrich fell asleep expecting that, at least, to remain true until morning.

He was wrong.

When dawn finally reached his room, pale light slipped through the curtains and stretched across the bed.

Ulrich woke slowly.

For a moment, he remained still, his mind clouded with exhaustion.

Then he felt a quiet warmth beside him accompanied by a faint rhythm of breathing.

Ulrich opened his eyes.

He turned his head.

Airam was curled up at the edge of his bed beneath part of the blanket, her knees drawn slightly toward her chest. Her dark hair had spread across the pillow. One of her hands rested loosely near his uninjured arm, as though she had reached for him in her sleep and stopped before touching him.

She looked peaceful.

Far more peaceful than she usually did.

Ulrich stared at her.

Then he slowly raised his right hand and covered his face.

He truly started missing the old Airam now.

The one who had straddled him in the middle of the night with a knife in her hand and threatened to castrate him.

At least that version of Airam had been easier to understand and deal with.