Eloise’ POV
“Eloise,” he said simply, his tone as impassive as always. But this time, there was something different—something softer beneath his usual stoicism. His gaze traveled over me, taking in every detail as though committing it to memory. It wasn’t just formality or duty anymore; there was care, reluctant but undeniable, growing behind his frosty demeanor.
He stepped closer, his movements was clear, and pulled something from his pocket. “The mana I assigned to you is tied to me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “If you ever need help, any help, you come to me. Do you understand?”
I blinked, taken aback by his words. The condition I had set for attending the ceremony hadn’t included this. Why was he going out of his way for me? Was this guilt? Or something else entirely?
But the
