Sora’s eyes widened further as she beheld the boy in the bed. He was pale, and dark haired. His eyes were a piercing blue, and he looked so fragile that Sora was scared of the maid touching him; he might shatter at any moment.

“Why are the curtains closed?” he asked, one pallid hand moving to prop his thin frame up.

“I told you, Milord,” the maid said, a hint of impatience in her voice. “The effects stopped less than a day ago. You will not be able to go out in the sunlight for a while. You have to recover first.”

“What happened?” he asked, and the maid simply continued tidying the room.

“I see you do not remember,” the maid said, plumping up his pillows.

The boy gave her an imitation of a glare, and the maid lowered her head.

“Maybe it is better that you don’t.”

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