“Tell me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “What did you do?”

You flinched slightly, but didn’t look up. “I handled it,” you murmured.

Julian exhaled slowly, patience thinning. “That’s not an answer.”

You hesitated, then finally met his gaze. “I… I needed the dresses. There was no other way to pay.”

His jaw tightened. “So you gave up two days of your life instead.”

Silence.

Your fingers clenched against the table. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Julian leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the frustration in the way his fingers curled into his palm. Then, suddenly, his gaze locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. “Fine,” he said. “Then we do this together.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“You lost two days. I’ll give up one of mine.” His voice was steady, like he had already made up his mind. “That way, we both only lose one.”

Yournstomach twisted. “Julian, no—”

“Yes.” His tone left no room for argument. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

You wanted to fight him on it, to tell him it wasn’t fair, that he didn’t have to do this. But the look in his eyes silenced you. He wasn’t asking for permission.

Without another word, he pulled a small knife from his belt and reached for your hand. You swallowed hard as he took your finger gently between his own, his thumb pressing lightly against your skin before he made the cut. A single drop of crimson welled up, glistening in the candlelight.

Julian brought your finger to his lips and, without hesitation, swallowed the drop of blood. The act was slow, deliberate, something far more intimate than you had expected.

He took the knife again, pressing it against his own finger, before lifting it up to your lips. You hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes before swallowing the drop of blood.

Julian watched you closely, his expression unreadable, but his hand lingered against yours, fingers warm against her skin. “Now we’re even,” he murmured.