Once we were safely out of the trapped room, I spun around, crossing my arms tightly, and fixed Clover with a stern glare. Her expression was a mix of confusion and uncertainty, a small frown tugging at her lips as she lingered a few paces away, as if gauging my mood.

I wasn’t about to give her a chance to speak. Not while anger still pulsed hotly under my skin. “What part of ‘we are mortal and squishy’ did you ignore? If I'd stayed back with the pressure plate, you’d be dead by now, and I can't heal.”

The images of the Giant Spiders––those monstrous things capable of ripping grown adults apart–flashed through my mind. Even young ones were deadly, and given how many had swarmed us, Clover wouldn’t have stood a chance. My stomach churned as fresh waves of grotesque mental pictures surged through my mind, each more harrowing than the last.

Any of those scenarios could have played out if I hadn't been fast enough.

Clover’s wariness slowly eased, her eyes softening with understanding as she bit her lip. “You're…really rattled by that, aren't you?”

There was still a hint of lightness in her tone, but at least she wasn’t as flippant as before. I threw my hands up in frustration. “Why aren't you rattled? You're the one who almost died, but you don't seem to care!”

She'd been more shaken when the spike trap nearly killed her. Did being eaten alive by Giant Spiders not warrant the same level of fear? The latter sounded far worse to me…

Clover studied me for a moment, her gaze sharp, as if searching for something. Whatever it was, she seemed to find it because her demeanor softened, and the tension slipped from her shoulders. “When I realized I couldn't move, that the spell took more out of me than I'd planned, you were already there, carrying me to safety. You had the situation handled before I even had a chance to be worried.”

I…didn't know how to feel about that. It made sense, in a way. There'd been no time to register the threat before I removed her from it. But one part of her explanation caught my attention.

“Why would the spell take more mana than usual?” I asked, still tense.

Clover grimaced, glancing toward the door. “I wasn't sure a normal lance would be enough to clear most of the spiders, so…I asked the Lady of Light to help me. She did, clearly, but I underestimated how much it would take out of me.”

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She hesitated, her voice lowering. “That was the first time she's answered me since my mistake. I didn't expect her to hear me.”

A mix of relief, uncertainty, and confusion flickered across her features, tugging at something in my chest. The anger began to ebb away like sand between my fingers. She hadn't overexerted herself on purpose, and the troubled look on her face suggested she needed comfort, not more reprimands.

I reached out, gently squeezing her arm. “Maybe the Lady of Light isn't as angry as you thought.”

Staring down at her mace, hope lit her eyes, and a tiny smile curled her lips. “Yeah, you might be right.”

The hard lines of stress and worry began to smooth out, and she lifted her gaze to mine. The softness lingered, warming her eyes as she lightly poked my arm. “I didn't think I'd ever see you shout and punch a wall, though. Looks like you do have a temper somewhere under that ‘good guy’ persona. And it came out of frothing worry over me.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and gave a theatrical, dreamy sigh. “How romantic. I think I might swoon.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “Sorry about that. I was still fighting off the adrenaline and thought…well.”

I let the sentence drop, but she picked it up with an amused tilt of her head. “That I had recklessly put myself in danger to prove I could handle myself without needing help?”

Yeah, that about summed it up.

She laughed and patted my arm. “You'll find that I'm not stupid, Darling. If I’d known how much it would take out of me, I would have asked you to carry me from the start. Much less risky that way and I’ll never turn down the opportunity to be in your arms.” She winked, her typical impish grin back in force.

The last of the tension drained from me, and I nodded, ignoring the heat burning through my cheeks at her flirtations. “Good, because that scared decades off my life. If it's all the same to you, I never want to repeat it.”

My hands were still shaking, and Clover noticed, her smile faltering. She took one of them, squeezing it as she whispered a healing spell that soothed the remaining nerves and the lingering sting.

“There. We can't go off and kill the Adult Giant Spider with your hand messed up, now can we?” Her smile returned, and something fluttered in my stomach before I squashed it. Not the time.

I gently reclaimed my hand, a chill following the loss of her touch. “Right, thanks for that. Let's finish off the spider and make camp for the night.”

A flash of the room filled with egg sacs cleaved through my mind, and I shuddered. “Not in that room, though.”

She snorted, patting my arm. “Don't worry, I'd never ask you to sleep in that mess with your fear of spiders. We'll camp here, once we're done.”

Technically, I wasn't afraid of spiders, I just…had a deep-rooted disgust toward them that I'd never been able to quell. If a spider got near me, it died. End of story.

She started for the door before I could correct her, and I let it go. It wasn't worth the trouble. She'd probably just tease me about being in denial and we had other things to focus on.

Like the Adult Giant Spider that waited on the other side of the door. As much as I'd like to walk away, the herb was necessary for who knows how many peoples’ survival.

We had no choice but to press forward.