Corvan was quiet as his eyes fluttered close. His breathing slowed and the lines between his eyes faded. Valeriana was worried for a few moments, but decided not to fuss so much. She debated whether or not she should stand and listen to the restless urge to get out as soon as possible. Nonetheless, with Corvan being severely injured, she could not find it in her heart to leave him alone.

She shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to make of the sudden silence.

"Are you wounded?" he asked.

"You're seriously asking me that?"

He opened his eyes, his gaze tracing her face. "You're wounded."

She reached up to touch her forehead where a gash had been left behind, as well as a small bump. She couldn't evade that rock completely, hence, her current dilemma.

"It's nothing too serious."

"Do not sleep, you may have a concussion," he whispered. "It would be a shame if you grow more stupid."

"Shut up, dumb jerk!" she exclaimed. "Speak for yourself, dammit. It'd be better if that rock deflated your ego!"

Corvan sighed tiredly.                                                                 

There was another round of silence until light gathered before Valeriana. She shifted her focus towards the familiar energy until soul Cifaro appeared before her in his faint form. The Gilerad lowered his head and gave her his greetings.

"Lheuim ansur," the beast began.

"Cifaro," she said, reaching out to brush his jaw. Surprisingly, her hands didn't pass through. "Cifaro, thank you so much."

"Thou hast called for my help. I will never find it in myself to refuse," the guardian leaned into her palm as a deep rumble reverberated in his throat.

"That demon parasite managed to gather such thick energy to be able to take a somewhat visible form." She frowned. "By the gods, I swear . . . Cifaro, how long will this form last?"

"Not very long," he replied, his bright, golden eyes zeroing in on Valeriana's azure blue ones. "But long enough to help thee find a path out of this cave and inform thy friends of thy dilemma."

"You really can do that? How much time will it take?"

"I estimate a couple of hours, two or three. It may take longer or shorter."

"Please do what you can," she told him.

He nodded and turned to leave. "I shall return."

With that, Cifaro disappeared, his figure fading as he leapt off. The energy fluctuations in the air receded, signaling the fact that he was gone. Valeriana took a deep breath as she turned to look at Corvan. He made no move to comment on anything else, which made the girl's stomach twist at the awkwardness that had rooted between the two of them.

Not to mention her conversation with Keelan. Thinking back made the embarrassment coil in her stomach. Instead of dwelling on the emotion, even so, she shook the thoughts away and decided to focus on the current situation at hand.

"Thank you," Valeriana told him. She said this, partially because she did not know what else to say and because she sincerely felt it.

She then took out a soaked handkerchief from her pocket and wrung it dry. She wiped Corvan's face with it, brushing away his hair from his face. Despite it being cool within the cave and dipping in cold water just a few moments before, he was sweating profusely.

"And I'm sorry," she later added.

His lids lifted, his emerald green orbs focusing on her azure ones.

"There is no need for you to thank me or apologize. I did what I did." He swallowed. His Adam's apple bobbed along with a huge intake of breath. "Do you have some water?"

"I do. In the bag . . ." she told him. "Wait a moment."

She gingerly lifted his head, but despite her trying not to move him so much, the twitching of his brows were enough to express his discomfort. Guilty, she repositioned herself and gently had him lay on her lap as she rummaged through the backpack for her supply of water.

"Here." She uncapped it and brought it to his lips.

He drank a few mouthfuls and sighed.

"You're keeping a lot of secrets," he told her, mock and sarcasm heavy on his words.

"I didn't know I could do that until I did," she replied. "Even I was surprised."

There was a brief pause.

"What are you going to do with the Chicovas gone?" he inquired. 

"I don't know. I have to find Aether, I guess."

"And how are you supposed to do that?"

"Like I said, I don't know." She pursed her lips. "I don't know what to do from now on. Complete the blessings they said, but I'm missing two."

"Two?"

"Spirit, and another one I'm not sure of. Now stop talking."

He frowned once more. "You don't tell that to . . . someone with a mouth."

It was Valeriana's turn to frown. "Stop using my words against me, jerk."

"You never filed a claim they were yours."

"How do you even have the energy to talk?" she asked him, holding back the urge to strangle him.

"I need to," he said. Despite his eyes being closed, Valeriana could see his lashes gathering some tears. "I need to talk."

She figured he did. Although she wasn't aware how much it exactly hurt, there was no doubt it hurt a ton. To think he had so much willpower to keep himself from screaming or making pained sounds in general, it just proved his strength and mindfulness.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "It's okay to cry. It's not like anyone is around."

He huffed.

"Although yeah, I get it. You're not you if you cry." She bit her lip as she traced his strong features with her eyes—his clear-cut brows, the arch of his jaws, and the bridge of his nose. Being this close and having his head on her lap gave her another opportunity to admire his face.

Corvan was definitely not physically average. With Lord Rupert and Lady Saskia's genes, how could he be average?

She hurriedly looked away and squirmed.

"Valeriana . . ." he began. "Stop moving around so much."

"Jerk, I was trying to fix my legs. If you don't like it, I'll take your head off my lap," she threatened.

His eyes opened and zeroed in on hers. They exchanged glares.

"You ungrateful wench. If I'd known you'll treat me like this, I'd have let that demon smash you against the wall."

"Nobody told you save me anyway, so why did you? You should've just let me go die."

She was answered by silence.

"I wonder," he muttered.

Her brows shot to her hairline.

"What?"

He closed his eyes and shut her out entirely. Valeriana felt frustrated by his response and attitude, but chose not to pursue the topic. Instead, she leaned back, using her arm to support herself as she looked about the cave restlessly. Having him lie on her lap made her feel very self-conscious so she tried to reroute her attention as much as possible.

After such a stressful moment, she could finally take a breath. With all the sudden surprises jumping up and about this past week, she found it hard to relax. Although it was fun, it was nothing short of taxing and traumatizing.

"If this was a movie, this is the part where I sing a lullaby," she muttered unwittingly.

"For Arland's sake, don't," Corvan muttered back. "Lest you want me to get more injured."

She felt a small twitch under her eye. "Being wounded doesn't stop you from insulting me, does it?" She growled, flicking the tip of his nose. It wrinkled briefly in response. "I mean, come on. Is this your way of not feeling any pain, you jerk?"

To her disbelief, a smile twitched on his lips coupled with huffs that seemed very much like soundless laughs. He couldn't laugh so much, seeing as doing so agitated the wound on his side.

She was speechless, but it did not last very long. Being wounded made this guy crazier.

"You're worse than mom when she was pregnant with Jareth."

She continued wiping his face instead as her gaze fell on his weakened form. The blood had already soaked through the makeshift bandage around his abdomen. It was clumsily done, clearly without any skill.

"Honestly, don't put yourself in harm's way for a girl not worth saving," she thoughtlessly stated.

He was silent for a few heartbeats.

"What's your basis of importance?" he asked. "You put yourself lower than you should."

"It's not that I do," she said, slouching. "You're the future high lord of Arlandia. You have people to lead. Don't compromise those people for my sake."

"So what are you telling me?"

"You—"

"You're a hypocrite."

"Why you—"

He did not allow her to finish. "You tell me not dwell on my title one moment and you put importance on it the next?"

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it," she said, finishing before he could even cut her off once again.

He sounded annoyed. "It's always about other people, never about me."

"When was it never about you? You're always so arrogant and self-centered," she lashed back.

"You're right. That, I've always been," he shot back, but this time, he carried firmness. The way he said it, too, carried a different meaning—but as to what note he would use to finish it, she was unsure. What she was certain of was that it was different from the one his words intended and what she wanted to convey.

"I've always been arrogant and self-centered," he repeated. "So it won't matter if I become selfless for selfish reasons," he finished.

The words he dropped hit her like bricks and her brows creased and raised at the same time.

He opened his eyes again, this time, with none of his masks. He still had that trademark frown—but his eyes were different. The mere sight of them so soulful changed her impression of him in a snap. Valeriana's hands trembled. She quickly stopped wiping his forehead, blinking as rapidly as her heart went. This one moment—that one moment—she knew she would never let loose from her memory.

"For most people, there are boundaries—life and duty. Unfortunately, for us, we thread the line between the two. You have been awfully indignant about it, like it was the easiest thing to do—to never get personal on impersonal things, to never get hung up on achievements and material things. But how can it be? Tell me how can it be? How will I do it? How will I do it when I've been stuck between these two things my entire life? How will I do it when I am fashioned after a creature with a heart and soul, no matter how much I tried to harden both? Just what will it take for me to become the perfect leader?"

She opened her mouth and her thoughts chaotically ran. She had no answer for that and he made an obvious point, a shot to her insensitivity the entire time.

"Most of my life had been defined by my title—so much that I often get carried away by the name I bear. Names. Temporary things. Responsibilities." His voice sounded breathy and tired, as though his inhibitions had all broken down. "Temporary things. Things that if I lose, I am nothing."

Valeriana's heart clenched.

"I thought that if you give me a day where I had none of that, nothing at all, I'll find who I am." His brows creased once again. "So I told myself, if I cannot be selfish for selfless reasons, then maybe I can be selfless for selfish ones."

Selflessness for selfish reasons. Although it made sense, the meaning those words carried was hard for her to comprehend—especially with the vagueness of the reason as to why he said it. He explained—with none of the arrogance for once. So what was the selfishness about? Whatever was it that was worth being selfless for? She didn't know what he was pertaining to at all, but even if she did, she did not dare assume.

"Now tell me. Why do you put yourself in harm's way for a man not worth saving?"

It was the same question, but now that he asked, she found it so hard to answer.

"You are . . . you put yourself lower than you should," she told him. "I'm sorry." Her tears gathered, but she held most of the others back so that she would not end up bawling. The sadness was overwhelming, followed by the guilt. "I'm so sorry. I . . . you make me worry so much. That's all. I didn't mean . . . but I did . . ."

Corvan's fingers twitched before he lifted them up slowly. His calloused palms were cold as they came into contact with her jaw, long fingers entangling themselves with a bunch of her hair as they messily fell from the ruined ponytail. She opened her mouth to reply, but the words halted at the top of her throat. Her mind had short-circuited as bits of his memories struck through. They were short images, enough to make sense of his past.

She closed her eyes, trying to maintain her focus from unnecessarily invading what should not be invaded. She managed to redirect her attention to his hand on her face, swallowing hard when she registered a gentle force pulling her downwards.

If her heart was pounding a while ago, now, it felt like there were several explosions happening inside her chest. She gazed into his green eyes—beautiful emerald mirrors laced with a golden tinge. Their poignancy was as clear as a summer's day. The coldness they held had vanished completely. Instead, they were full of sentiments and a glimmer of something she couldn't describe.

Her right hand grasped the damp floor to maintain balance, her left resting above the one on her face. It was far worse than a defibrillator on the chest.

Her heart stopped, so did time. Yet, ironically, she could not.

Her hair stood. The electricity made her tremble. Yet, for some reason, her eyes fluttered close.

His words echoed in her soul.

And their lips met.