Chapter 16: Feelings
Zamian woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. He blinked, adjusting to the light as he turned to see Mira still asleep beside him. Her hair was tied in a beautifully messy bun, with loose strands falling gracefully around her face. She looked so peaceful, a picture of calm that starkly contrasted with the whirlwind of emotions from the day before. Zamian allowed himself a rare moment of stillness as he observed her, the serenity of her expression almost disarming.
Not wanting to disturb her sleep, Zamian carefully slid out of bed, moving with deliberate, calculated motions to avoid waking her. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he silently crossed the room and entered the bathroom. Even as he stood under the warm spray of the shower, his mind kept drifting back to her—Mira, with her quiet elegance and the curious effect she seemed to have on him. What was it about her that unsettled him in ways he hadn’t expected?
After a quick shower, Zamian wrapped a towel around his waist, the cool air hitting his skin as he stepped out of the bathroom. His eyes naturally sought out Mira again, still resting peacefully on the bed. For a moment, everything seemed still—until she stirred. Her delicate movements caught his attention, and just as he was about to turn away, she sat up, their eyes meeting in a brief yet intense exchange. She blinked, then quickly hid her face in her hands, clearly flustered.
To his surprise, a soft chuckle escaped his lips. Zamian paused, startled by the unfamiliar sound. He rarely laughed—especially not at something as simple as Mira’s shy reaction—but there it was, a quiet chuckle breaking the stoic mask he wore so often. He quickly shook off the strange feeling and moved to dress, pulling on a crisp shirt and tailored trousers, his actions slow and methodical.
Once he was fully dressed, Zamian glanced at Mira again, who was still pretending to hide behind her hands. In a steady, calm voice, he said, "I’m done. You can sit up now."
Mira peeked through her fingers, clearly still embarrassed, but she quickly stood up and greeted him. "Good morning," she murmured, her voice soft and uncertain. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, a telltale sign of the nervousness that hung between them.
Zamian’s response was brief but gentle. "Good morning." He turned and made his way to the door, his posture as rigid and composed as ever. Yet, as he descended the stairs, a slight smile tugged at his lips—a smile that vanished almost as soon as it appeared. Even in this quiet moment, his presence remained commanding, the kind that demanded attention without effort.
As he stepped outside the mansion, the fresh morning air greeted him. He paused at the entrance, scanning his surroundings until his eyes landed on James, who was waiting nearby. Without preamble, Zamian instructed, "Keep her safe."
James, ever loyal and respectful, nodded firmly. "Yes, I will."