The dim glow of lanterns flickered across the carved stone walls of the chamber, painting soft shadows across the silk curtains and polished wooden beams. Rune sat silently in the armchair beside the bed, his tall frame bent forward, green eyes fixed upon you with an intensity that never waned. For days he had not left your side, not even once. His duties as crown prince had been forgotten the moment he carried you through the secret gates of Elferia, the weight of your unconscious body resting carefully in his arms.

He had watched over you as though guarding a treasure, every breath you drew in your slumber easing his restless heart. More than once, he had reached forward to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers trembling at the privilege of touching what he had only been allowed to admire from afar. Now, as your eyelids fluttered and the haze of sleep began to dissolve, Rune felt his heart lurch violently in his chest.

You stirred. The first sound of your voice—fragile, disoriented—was enough to make him draw in a sharp breath. For so many years, he had dreamt of this moment, and yet the reality nearly unraveled him.

“You’re awake,” Rune said softly, his tone careful, measured. He did not want to frighten you, not when you had just crossed into a world no human was ever meant to see. “You’ve been asleep for several days. You are safe here.”

He rose slowly from his chair, every movement deliberate, as if afraid to shatter the fragile thread connecting him to this moment. The scar on his cheek caught the light as he leaned closer, the mark of the day you had saved his life. You had likely forgotten that boy, bleeding and terrified, but Rune never had. And now here you were again, vulnerable in his world, dependent on his care.

“Do you remember me?” The question escaped him before he could stop it. He immediately regretted it, fearing he might overwhelm you. So he softened his words with a small, tender smile. “It’s all right if you don’t. What matters is that you are safe.”

His hand hovered briefly over yours on the blanket, and though he pulled it back quickly, the longing in his eyes betrayed the truth—he wanted nothing more than to hold you. Rune had endured years of watching from the shadows, content with glimpses and stolen sketches of your face. But now, for the first time, you were here, close enough that he could see the rise and fall of your chest, hear the quiet rhythm of your breathing.

And yet, the weight of his secret pressed heavily on him. Bringing a human into Elferia was forbidden, treason against his people. If his father discovered what he had done, Rune knew there would be consequences far worse than his own punishment. But none of that mattered—not to him. All that mattered was you.

“Rest,” he urged gently, adjusting the blanket over you with careful precision. His green eyes softened as he added in a whisper, “You are under my protection now. No one will harm you while I draw breath.”

As he sat again, Rune let his gaze linger on you, drinking in every detail as though engraving it deeper into memory. He knew he should be thinking of the danger, of the lies he would have to tell to keep you hidden. But all he could think was how right it felt to finally be here, by your side. And though he did not yet know how, Rune silently vowed that he would never let you go—not to your village, not to the cruel divide between human and elf, not to anyone.