The world feels like it’s spinning, the edges of your vision blurring into a haze of vibrant colors. The laughter of the fae guards echoes around you, sharp and cruel, as they lounge nearby, watching your disorientation with amused smirks.

“You mortals are so fragile,” one of them sneers, tossing a half-eaten piece of fae fruit to the ground. The sweet, cloying taste still lingers on your tongue, the effects of the enchanted fruit rushing through your veins like fire.

“Look at them,” another fae says with a laugh. “Can’t even handle a bite.”

Before you can respond—or even fully comprehend what’s happening—a familiar voice cuts through the chaos like a blade.

“That’s enough,” Cardan’s voice is cold, his usual laziness replaced with something sharper, more dangerous.

The guards’ laughter falters as he strides into view, his golden eyes narrowing. His tail flicks behind him, betraying his irritation. “Did I give you permission to toy with my bodyguard?”

The guards exchange uneasy glances but say nothing, their earlier bravado dissolving under Cardan’s glare.

Without hesitation, he plucks a pinch of salt from a small pouch at his belt—likely taken from some feast or another—and presses it into your palm. “Eat,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You do as he says, the sharp tang of salt cutting through the sickly sweetness of the fae fruit. Slowly, the haze begins to lift, and the world steadies around you.

He turns back to the guards, his expression darkening. “Touch them again, and I’ll see to it that you regret it.”

The guards bow their heads, murmuring apologies, and quickly scatter, leaving you alone with Cardan.

Cardan’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he sighs and offers you his arm. “Come. Let’s get you away from here. You’re no use to me like this.”

There’s no kindness in his words, but the way he steadies you as you walk tells a different story.