Chapter 35

Aurelia POV

The dining hall on the fourth floor was bathed in the soft, intimate glow of flickering beeswax candles, their warm light dancing across the dark mahogany paneling and the crackling stone hearth. The room was utterly devoid of guards or attendants, creating a heavy, quiet stillness that felt more suffocating than any iron cage.

Draven sat across the long table, dressed in a plain charcoal shirt with his sleeves loosely rolled to his elbows, leaving his scarred forearms bare. He moved with deliberate slowness, pouring dark crimson wine into two crystal goblets before sliding one toward my side of the table. He took great care to ensure his fingers never brushed mine, maintaining a quiet, respectful distance between us.

“You haven’t touched your plate, Ria,” Draven said softly, his deep voice carrying a strange, tempered warmth that sounded entirely foreign on his lips. “I asked the kitchen staff to prepare the spiced venison without the heavy moun