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C H A P T E R
F O R T Y - F O U R

Inside Grandma's house, the kitchen rippled like kettle, wheezing heat out and moistening the interior. The door slammed behind us, windows shut tight against the winter.

She lent a warm blanket for me and Yuta. Then while she was dusting snow out of my hair, her eyes were trained on me, and they were chirps of gold like mine. It's almost like I'm looking at my mirror.

She said no word as she gave Yuta a heater and placed it on his hands. He obediently let her do as she wanted. His blue eyes would sometime steal glances on her face but Grandma was quick to switch from place to place. One second, she's assisting Yuta and by the next second, she's at the kitchen counter, preparing two cups of tea.

We haven't spoken a single word yet. And I reckon she could tell who Yuta was, since she acted as if she didn't know me. She knew well, more than anyone, how important our secret was. And for the Capital's inheritor to be inside the very same room as us, it's better to keep safe and act like strangers.

"Wolves," Grandma muttered. "They've been acting strange. Beasts of the forest, not anymore. They've turned to hunters," then she placed the cups of tea on the table, steam oozing upwards to the air. "Here, have something warm to drink."

Yuta glanced at me, doubt painted all over his face. His lips were still shivering because of the cold.

"Don't worry, young man. I do not make poison. This tea is made of natural herbs," Grandma told Yuta.

I stood up and walked towards the table. I grabbed one of the cups and smelled it. It's not like I was doubting my own Grandma to poison me; it's an act of confirmation in front of Yuta.

"Nothing bizarre about its smell," I said to the man behind me.

Yuta didn't move from his seat. I sipped an amount of tea, and sighed in contentment when I felt it warm my insides. Yuta's throat bobbed, as if he was tempted to have the liquid warm up his stomach too.

"Don't you want a drink?" Grandma asked Yuta, noticing how vacant he was. "The second cup is for you."

He waved his head. "I've been taught not to accept food from strangers."

I realized he's talking about his trauma. For someone like him who had experienced a  couple of assassination and poison attempts since he was small, it's understandable why he's so mindful and insecure now.

Grandma glanced at me and slid the cup of tea that was intended for Yuta to my direction. "Here," she whispered softly. "Take this to him. He's cold."

I obeyed what she said. Bringing the cup with me, I sat next to Yuta.

"Please, you need to drink something," I said.

He flattened his lips to a line and looked away.

"Yuta," I sighed. "Please, do it for me."

His eyes flickered, as then the decision was made. It took him a few seconds to turn around and face me, taking the cup from my fingers.

Then he brought the container's rim to his lips and, hesitating, drank from it.

After a while, his face made an expression of discomfort. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, and he was blinking sluggishly, as if he was insanely dozy. I suddenly felt worried.

He started to be indolent on his actions. "Soo-" he mumbled, and then thrusted the cup to my direction, offering me to take it. I did, circling my fingers on its handle. Then when I looked back at Yuta, his eyes rolled on the back of his head, until he collapsed on the couch, unconscious.

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