Aiden frowned, his gaze sweeping across the house before settling again on Mr. Jones. "Where is she? Did she return home?" Mr. Jones’s brows remained furrowed as he replied, "She returned early, but she ... she didn’t look good." "Didn’t look good?" Aiden’s frown deepened as he heard him. "Is she unwell? Why didn’t you call the doctor?" He didn’t wait for the answer. He took the phone out, ready to call Jason. But before he could press the call, Mr. Jones quickly added, "I asked her about the doctor, but she said she was fine. I don’t think it’s about her physical health. She seemed ... upset about something." Aiden paused for a moment, his thumb hovering over the screen. Mr. Jones sighed, continuing carefully, "Since she has returned, she has been ... quiet. Low. I offered to send a maid to her, but she refused, saying she wanted to be alone. And since then, she hasn’t come down. Usually, she would be here, waiting for you before dinner, but today —" He didn’t need to say more. Aiden already knew Arwen’s habits. She never missed waiting for him, even if it meant sitting for hours. If he had chosen to ignore that ritual tonight, it only meant one thing —something was truly wrong. The thought of her in distress, suffering alone, unsettled him deeply. His jaw tightened, his eyes flicking upstairs before his feet carried him in that direction. Mr. Jones remained behind, his solemn gaze following Aiden’s retreating figure. He had witnessed their bond grow over time —once again —strengthening steadily. Yet, despite their love, hardships always seemed to shadow them. In for hor secrets, truths and lies. He let out a weary sigh. "These children have endured enough," he muttered under his breath. "They have overcome trial after trial. Now it’s time they had peace —time for them to build a life with no threats, only happiness. May the heavens grant them that mercy." He truly wished from the bottom of his heart, but he also knew, one’s wishes alone don’t hold that power. In the meantime, Aiden climbed the stairs. The soft click of his footsteps echoed as he ascended, then carried him through the long corridor. Each step weighed heavier on his chest, making his unease grow with every breath. At the door, he paused. His hand hovered over the handle for a moment before twisting it gently, pushing it open. Though every instinct urged him to rush inside, he moved with deliberate calm, measured and controlled. He didn’t want her to see him unravel. He didn’t want his worry to overwhelm her. As he stepped inside the room, he paused in his step, his brows furrowing. The room was cloaked in darkness. So complete, so still ... that had he not known she was there, he might have thought it empty. "Moon!" he called softly, his voice a shade lower than usual, tender in its restraint. There was no reply, but he caught the faintest stir —the sound of shifting fabric, a quiet breath that gave her away. He moved further in, letting his eyes adjust. It was pitch dark, and for once, he couldn’t find her. Not because it was difficult to scan, but because it felt as though she was hiding from him, retreating just far enough to stay out of reach. And even though it was only a faint impression, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. "Moon," he called out again, this time with quiet insistence."What’s wrong? Why are you forcing yourself to sit in the dark?" Arwen never liked the darkness. Even in sleep, she always wanted a light on her side. Seeing her sit there now, swallowed by shadows, made Aiden’s frown deepen. And her silence —her refusal to respond —darkened his expression even more. He finally spotted her by the window, curled against the glass, her outline faint beneath the pale glow of the distant lights. Her small frame was tucked in on itself, arms around her knees, as if she were trying to disappear. Aiden’s chest tightened. He didn’t wait another second. His hand moved swiftly, reaching for the switch and flooding the room with light. The brightness snapped the shadows away. Her back was still turned towards him, and he couldn’t tell if she flinched or not. He strode across the room and crouched down before her, his movements slow, careful, unwilling to give her the reason to scoot farther away. "Moon —" he whispered, pausing when his gaze met her face. Her eyes were swollen, red from tears she had shed, as though she could have cried enough to flood the world. Her cheeks carried the faint hue of pink, blotchy from weeping. Strands of hair stuck to her damp skin. Even though she had wrapped herself in a sheet, she was still trembling —whether from cold or something far deeper, Aiden couldn’t tell. But it tore at him all the same. Without hesitation, he slid closer, prying the sheer gently from her grip and wrapping his arms around her, cocooning her against his chest. His warmth pressed into her shivering frame, steadying and grounding her again. "Moon," he murmured slowly, letting his lips brush her temple. "What’s wrong? Why are you pushing yourself ?" Arwen still didn’t speak, but she didn’t push him away as well. She let him embrace her ... to make her feel assured of something that she wasn’t sure of herself. Aiden held her in his arms. When he finally felt her tremble seize, he pulled away little to check on her. His eyes narrowed with scrutiny, trying to study her. But when he could, his expression tightened. He dipped and scooped her up in his arms, bringing her back inside the room. This update ıs available on 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭·𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦·𝘯𝘦𝘵 Her arms wrapped around his neck as he brought her in and placed her gently on the bed. "Moon, will you please tell me what’s wrong? Seeing you is killing me. I can’t ... I simply can’t see you ."