Chapter 17

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As soon as Naseria stepped out the door, his blue eyes opened, and he turned to look in the direction where she had just left.

The Archduke's piercing ocean-blue eyes followed her departure, his mind clouded with suspicion and confusion.

"Why was she here?" he thought, his brows furrowing in confusion. He tried to sit up but immediately felt the weight of exhaustion pull him back down.

"Why did she help me?" there was coldness in his question, a distrust he couldn't shake off.

The Archduke was a man of few allies, and he had learned through painful experiences that trust was a luxury he couldn't afford.

He lay still for a moment, gathering his thoughts. His body felt heavy. The memory of wandering outside in the storm was vague, like a half-remembered dream.

Sleepwalking again. Damn it. He hated this vulnerability, this loss of control.

The Archduke sat up slowly, feeling the weight of exhaustion in his muscles. He ran a hand through his wet hair, trying to piece together the events.

Why had he been outside? Why did he keep having these episodes? It was frustrating and humiliating.

As he stared at the closed door, he remembered the last thing he heard from the woman. "Now that I'm here, hindi kita pababayaan. Simula ngayon, hindi mo na kailangang mag-isa." Why would she say such words as if she knew him?

Is she the one who had brought him back? He remembered feeling someone's touch, trying to rouse him from his trance, but the details were hazy.

But one thing is for sure, the touch was gentle, as if showing concern. No one had shown him that kind of concern in years. It stirred something uncomfortable within him- a feeling he quickly suppressed.

Emotions were weaknesses, and he couldn't afford any.

He also remembered the feeling of the cold water on his skin, the sound of the storm, but nothing else. It was as if his mind had blocked out the rest.

He didn't like not knowing. He couldn't afford to trust anyone, not with the kind of life he led. There were too many people who would take advantage of any perceived weakness.

Why did this keep happening? Why couldn't he control it?

The Archduke stood up, walking to the window. He looked out at the dark, wet landscape, the garden where he had been found. The ground was soaked, the air thick with the smell of wet earth.

Sleepwalking was a manifestation of his inner struggle, a physical expression of the demons that haunted him. His thoughts drifted back to the past, to the day that had changed everything.

Thomas. His best friend. The only person who had ever understood him, who had ever truly cared for him. And his mother had taken that away. He could still see Thomas's face, the terror in his eyes, the helplessness. And then the blood. So much blood.

He clenched his fists, the anger and pain flooding back. His mother's voice echoed in his mind, cold and unforgiving.

"You must learn obedience, young boy. This is for your own good."

She had killed Thomas to teach him a lesson, to show him that disobedience had consequences. And he had learned. Oh, how he had learned.

Every night since then had been a struggle. Every day was a battle to keep the pain and guilt at bay. He had built walls around his heart, determined never to let anyone in again.

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