Tʜᴇ Dᴀʀᴋ Lᴏʀᴅ's Aɴɢᴇʟ | Tom Riddle √

61: A Risk Worth Taking

Cassiopeia was attended by Kreacher, who brought another bowl of hot water to her room. His voice, full of concern, broke the silence. "Miss Arctula, do you need anything else?"

"No, thank you, Kreacher," she smiled warmly at the loyal house-elf.

Kreacher placed the bowl on the nightstand, replacing the wet cloth that Cassiopeia had been using to gently dab Tom's forehead. His body was cold to the touch, and with Kreacher's assistance, Cassiopeia had managed to move him to her room, dressing him in her father's old clothes.

She couldn't help but feel conflicted about this decision. While it was an act of compassion, she couldn't help but worry about her father's reaction when he discovered what she had done. She sighed heavily as she continued tending to Tom's feverish brow with the damp cloth.

The sight of him, lying there, unconscious, troubled her. His face bore the same features she remembered from her dreams – the same curly hair and the perfect jawline that had haunted her for years.

Kreacher, who had been watching the man on the bed with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, finally voiced his concerns. "Miss Arctula, do you think it's safe to keep him here? What if the Death Eaters find him? The Dark Lord is no longer with us."

Cassiopeia's gaze remained fixed on Tom's peaceful expression as she absentmindedly plucked a strand of his curly hair from his forehead. "I honestly don't know," she confessed, her voice filled with uncertainty. "But I believe we have some time until he wakes up."

Kreacher, though still unsure, couldn't ignore Cassiopeia's determination. "Miss Arctula, please forgive Kreacher, but my duty is to keep you safe. Are you certain about this? He is a monster."

"He was," Cassiopeia corrected, her voice firm. She turned to the elf, offering him a reassuring smile. "I can assure you that he won't cause harm again, okay? Do you trust me, Kreacher?"

"Always, my Miss," Kreacher replied, his eyes brimming with loyalty.

Cassiopeia's smile broadened, and she continued, "Well, I need you to trust me because I trust you with my life."

"Shall Kreacher prepare some meals for my Miss?" the elf asked, his hands clasped together in a sign of respect.

"Yes, why not, Kreacher," Cassiopeia agreed. "Would you mind making some soup for Tom?"

"Kreacher will do it," he bowed and left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

Cassiopeia carefully monitored Tom's condition, her hand grasping his as she felt his body temperature slowly returning to normal. Her mind, however, raced with thoughts of what lay ahead.

She couldn't ignore the enormity of the situation. She was in love with the man who had murdered her mother, caused her father's and uncle's deaths, left Kreacher to die in the cave, and forced her to leave the Malfoy family. She grappled with the fear of what people would think when they learned about her relationship with Tom. Would they label her a traitor?

Cassiopeia's emotions overwhelmed her. She had fought for her love, and now, the man she had yearned for was within her reach. She heaved another heavy sigh, contemplating the path she had chosen.

As she prepared to step away from the bedside, the hand she had held moments ago tightened around hers, bringing her to an abrupt halt.

"Tom," Cassiopeia said, turning around as she saw him slowly open his eyes. She quickly settled down next to him, her fingers gently caressing his cheek. "Are you alright?"

Tom's eyes blinked, adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings, and then they settled on Cassiopeia, his gaze lingering for a brief moment. "Cassie," he spoke, a faint smile gracing his lips.