Work. Work. Work.

  Ever since Scorin went on a freaking journey, the workload has been piling up like the ward decided to punish me for having one nice night.

  “Doctor!”“Sophia!”“Saint, please!”

  Too many voices. Too many hands. Too many people who looked at me like I was the difference between living and becoming a story someone else tells.

  The Ledger didn’t care.

  It floated beside my vision like it already knew I could handle it.

  3/20 Wounded1/10 Illness

  I glanced at it while I was working on an old demon with a dislocated arm.

  “Going easy on me, huh?” I muttered.

  The Ledger blinked and wrote a comment like it was smug.

  Comment: You earned it.

  I actually laughed.

  “Don’t get sentimental,” I whispered at it. “You’re a floating quota.”

  From Noxx’s lantern, Nira’s voice slipped out, dry as ash.

  “You’re talking to a book like it’s a coworker.”

  “It acts like one,” I shot back. “A toxic one.”

  The old man groaned the moment I touched his arm.

  “Doctor… it hurts…”

  “Yep. Yep. I know,” I said, already reaching for the rag. “Bite on this.”

  He did, muffling a protest into fabric.

  “Mm—?!”

  I exhaled and raised my voice.

  “Noxx!”

  Noxx trotted in like he’d been waiting for his cue, lantern blinking.

  The old man’s eyes widened as the demon hound lined up like a professional.

  “Noxx—gentle,” I warned.

  Nira sounded offended. “That is gentle.”

  Noxx bumped the shoulder with a controlled shove.

  Pop.

  The arm slid back into place like it remembered where it belonged.

  The old man spat out the rag and screamed like I’d personally betrayed him.

  “BE GENTLE WITH ME!”

  I pointed at him. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

  He glared at me like I was the devil. “This is why I hate hospitals.”

  Noxx wagged his tail like he’d done a good deed.

  I rubbed between his ears anyway, because honestly… he had.

  After that, the day blurred.

  Bandages. Screams. A nurse calling my name like it was a prayer. Holy residue burns. Fevers. Stitches. Broken bones.

  I stopped thinking and started moving.

  By the time I finally looked up again, my hands were steady, but my soul felt hollow.

  20/20 Wounded10/10 Illness

  “Phew,” I breathed. “Last one and done.”

  I poured myself a shot of Aetherplum like it was medicine for the spirit and stared at the clock prototype on my desk.

  It wasn’t pretty.

  It was a prototype.

  But the second hand ticked.

  And that meant I wasn’t completely powerless in a world that kept trying to schedule me.

  I checked the face again.

  4:45 PM.

  Fifteen minutes until closing.

  I started putting things away, already tasting freedom.

  Then the front door chime rang.

  I didn’t even look up.

  “Please make an appointment—it’s fifteen minutes to clos—”

  I looked up.

  “…Why are you here?”

  Prince Zephran stood in my lobby like he belonged there.

  Composed. Polished. Unfazed.

  As if I hadn’t shut him down before.

  As if Noxx hadn’t proven his teeth worked.

  I hated those types.

  Zephran didn’t rush. He walked slowly around the lobby, eyes roaming the ward like he was inspecting property.

  “This hospital is… quite nice,” he said pleasantly.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Nira muttered from the lantern, “He’s complimenting your ward like it’s a dress.”

  “Shut up,” I whispered.

  Zephran turned to me, hands open in a practiced, harmless gesture.

  “I wanted to apologize for being so upfront,” he said. “I truly did not mean to… offend you.”

  I lifted my prototype watch.

  It stuttered toward 4:53 like it was fighting sleep.

  “You’re lucky my prototype is still in the works,” I told him flatly, “or I’d tell you to get out—and I’d have to sic my dog on you again.”

  “Okay, okay,” Zephran said, still calm. Too calm. “I understand.”

  He dipped his head like he was a gentleman.

  Then he smiled like a man with a plan.

  “I heard about you,” he said softly. “One of my men… he was treated here. He said the rumors were true.”

  A small flash of memory hit me—some soldier stumbling away, half crying because he could move again, telling anyone who’d listen that the ‘saint’ saved him.

  “Oh,” I said. “That soldier.”

  “Yes,” Zephran purred. “You are the savior of our Demon Kingdom.”

  Nira’s voice sharpened. “Ah. ‘One of my men.’ Collecting people again.”

  I kept my face blank.

  Zephran took one more step forward.

  “I’m not here to show hostile intent,” he said. “I’m here to show you… you can strive for more.”

  My eyelid twitched.

  “…Next,” I said, forcing myself calm. “I’m flattered you feel that way about me. But honestly, with everything going on, and my own problems… romance isn’t in my cards right now.”

  A blunt rejection. Clean. Simple.

  I prayed he’d get the idea.

  Zephran’s smile didn’t break.

  So I added something sharper.

  “Also,” I said, “I don’t know who you are, honestly, so I’d rather you not talk to me like we know each other.”

  His smile tightened.

  His eyes flicked, just for a second—annoyed.

  Then he sighed like I was the problem.

  “I’m sorry,” he said smoothly. “I truly do feel sorry that you feel like that.”

  And then he reached into his coat and pulled out a sealed letter.

  Black seal. Clean wax. The kind of authority that made my stomach sink before I even read anything.

  He didn’t hand it to me.

  He just held it.

  “According to your father,” Zephran said, “I still have a chance to win your heart over.”

  Nira hissed, low. “Leash.”

  I stared at the letter and then back at him.

  “So,” I said quietly, “this is Father.”

  Zephran’s voice stayed gentle.

  “Honestly,” he went on, “I’ve been thinking… I should simply take you away. Far away.”

  “Oh yeah?” I asked, voice flat. “Do you honestly think my father would stand for that?”

  Zephran’s eyes warmed with something that wasn’t love.

  “You still don’t understand,” he said. “You’re getting older, my dear. Your brothers and your father will have their hands full sooner or later. You’re going to need someone there to look after you.”

  He smiled wider.

  “And I have the perfect cage—”

  He caught himself.

  “…I mean, the perfect mansion for you.”

  My blood heated.

  Part of me hated that the logic sounded right.

  Another part of me hated that I even had a part that listened.

  If I had offensive magic… if I had combat power like my brothers…

  I wouldn’t be standing here with a syringe and a prayer.

  I set my jaw.

  “Give it your best shot,” I told him. “I won’t go freely.”

  Noxx growled, the sound vibrating through the tile.

  Nira emerged as a flicker of black-snow light above the lantern, a fairy sigil forming in the air like a ready stamp.

  I raised the syringe.

  Demon Bane.

  The air went silent.

  Then—

  A presence entered the lobby like a shadow deciding it had enough.

  “Mmmmy… mmmmy…”

  Aunt Sera appeared.

  Not from a doorway.

  From between moments.

  Prince Zephran’s smile reset instantly.

  “Ah, Sera,” he said. “The pleasure is all mine.”

  “Likewise, Prince,” Aunt Sera replied, polite and calm. “But to get straight to the point…”

  She stepped forward just enough to be heard by the ward.

  “This is a medical ward,” she said. “Under Neutral medical protections, rank is suspended inside these doors. No coercion. No duels. No hostile intent.”

  Zephran’s eyes sharpened.

  He looked at her again—really looked.

  Like he finally recognized what she was, and where that kind of stillness came from.

  He didn’t like it.

  “Fine,” he said, voice tight. “But don’t you ever interrupt me again, alright, Sera. Know your role. It’s for your own protection.”

  Aunt Sera smiled softly.

  “You’re right, Prince Zephran,” she said, and her apology was so perfectly polite it felt like a blade hidden in velvet. “I do apologize.”

  Zephran’s jaw clenched.

  He slid the sealed letter back into his coat like he hadn’t used it as a weapon.

  Then he turned to leave.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said without looking at me. “This conversation isn’t finished.”

  The door chime rang again as he exited.

  Silence returned like a blanket.

  I slouched into the nearest chair like my bones finally remembered fatigue.

  Noxx relaxed, lantern slowing.

  Nira floated down like she was powering off.

  For a second, nobody spoke.

  Then I turned my head.

  “So,” I said to Aunt Sera, voice thin. “How long have you been there?”

  She checked my prototype watch like it was a normal habit.

  “…About your whole shift.”

  I stared.

  “And you didn’t help?”

  “Mmm,” she hummed, unbothered. “Nope. I saw sweets in the nurses’ lounge…”

  Nira’s voice cut in. “You were gossiping.”

  “…and I got caught up in conversations about relationships,” Aunt Sera finished, as if she hadn’t just admitted treason.

  I opened my mouth.

  She cut me off smoothly.

  “I think it’s time to close up,” she said. “Shall we call it a night?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Speaking of relationships—aren’t you—”

  Aunt Sera didn’t even blink.

  “Close up,” she repeated.

  I exhaled hard.

  I checked my watch again.

  The time was 5:01 PM.

  My prototype stuttered, then forced itself forward like it was stubborn.

  5:02 PM.

  At least it was working.

  “I’ll fix the tweaks tomorrow,” I muttered.

  Aunt Sera’s voice softened.

  “Please close the front door,” she said. “Then wash up. I’ll make you tea… and the rice crackers you like so much.”

  My eyes lit up.

  “Oh YEA,” I whispered. “Chocolate-covered rice crackers… MMM.”

  I turned toward my office-room, shuffling like my legs were made of wet paper.

  Noxx followed close behind, escorting me to safety.

  Nira’s voice drifted out, quieter than usual.

  “It’s been a long day…”

  “Yeah,” I whispered back. “No kidding.”

  Aunt Sera stayed behind at the front.

  The glass doors faced the outside—darkening streets, quiet lamps, and the last traces of the day slipping away like the ward was finally allowed to breathe.

  She locked the door.

  Click.

  Then she stopped.

  Not frozen. Not startled.

  Just… still.

  Like the world held its breath first.

  Aunt Sera lifted her eyes.

  And through the glass, she locked eyes with someone standing where shadows gathered.

  Ragalia.

  He wasn’t under the lamps like a normal person.

  He stood where reflections could hide him—where you’d miss him unless you already knew how to look.

  Aunt Sera’s face didn’t change.

  But her gaze sharpened like recognition and warning in the same breath.

  She blinked once.

  And when her eyes opened again—

  He was gone.

  My stomach dropped even though I hadn’t seen him myself.

  I swallowed and stared down the hallway ahead.

  “…Yeah,” I whispered.

  “I guess I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

  Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a like/follow (and a comment if you have thoughts—feedback helps a lot). As mentioned above, AI is used as a writing assistant, but the creative work and decisions are my own, and I keep draft snapshots for transparency. See you next chapter!