On the lofty ceiling, a painting inspired by biblical verses adorned the walls. Weary eyes took in the unfamiliar sight. A spacious room unfolded, adorned with elegant golden furniture, hung paintings, vases brimming with flowers, and a crackling fireplace.

Laila became aware of her presence as she lay upon a large, plush bed.

In this unfamiliar space, there was one familiar presence. Cain Vanderbilt sat upon the single-chair by her bedside. With closed eyes and a tilted head, he exuded an air of serenity. It seemed as if he had fallen asleep.

Curiously, upon seeing him, a sense of relief washed over her, releasing the tension in her body.

It was a dream. I am alive. I am in a safe place.

"Um..."

Merely uttering those few words caused a surge of pain in her throat. Abandoning the idea of calling Cain again, she instead directed her gaze towards his face. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows and light upon his visage. His closed eyelids were neatly adorned with eyelashes. Unlike when he was awake, his lips, now sealed, exuded a soft aura. Even in his slumber, his features were as captivating as ever. His presence, beyond the boundary she could reach, both offered solace and evoked inexplicable resignation and longing.

"Cane..."

Laila called his name once more. Although she had been introduced to him, she had never summoned his name before, yet now her lips parted unconsciously.

In an instant, he slowly lifted his eyelids. Taking a moment to gaze at her, Cain gradually rose to a sitting position, assessed the situation. Whether it was his inherent nature or the influence of his upbringing, his movements and expressions remained steady and composed.

"Are you coming to your senses?"

Cain rose from his seat and slipped his hand into his coat pocket, gazing down at her. The shadows in his eyes prevented her from deciphering his thoughts. It seemed as though he was both concerned and scornful.

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Laila's vision before her eyes began to blur gradually.

Comfortable. Warm. Sleepy.

The sight within and Cain's presence eradicated the nightmares and brought about a sense of tranquility.

Was it because the tension had dissipated?

An illusion crept into Laila's mind, as if Cain's body stretched out indefinitely. When she turned her head, the figures in the painting on the ceiling moved arbitrarily. Laila felt as if she were being sucked into the depths of the bed.

"Laila?"

It was strange. She had just woken up, so why was she unable to resist this drowsiness?

Laila made an effort to regain her composure and opened her mouth.

"It's not possible..."

"What do you mean it's not possible?"

Sensing that something was amiss with her condition, Cain narrowed his eyes and inquired.

"I can't sleep here..."

In the midst of her half-disoriented state, Laila voiced her concealed concerns.

"Why can't you sleep here?"

"Because of the smell..."

Laia's voice grew increasingly faint.

"What smell?"

"The foul stench, it will haunt me."

If I sleep here, the noisome odor of fish clinging to her body will taint the sheets. From the moment she looked at Cain with relief, an overwhelming concern gripped her. She shouldn't disturb his rest, yet her body refused to obey the call to rise.

Cain's face froze, evidently caught off guard by her unexpected words. He maintained his gaze upon her as he slowly bent his body.

"Pardon me," he uttered.

With those brief words, his face descended upon Laila's visage. The warmth emanating from her cheeks intertwined with his cool shadow. At a distance of a mere breath, Cain's face came to a halt. It was a closeness that teetered between the touch of his nostrils and lips.

Reason, engulfed in a feverish heat, vanished without a trace. Fortunately, his actions were not borne of ill intentions.

"I don’t smell any scent at all."

Still pressed against her face, he spoke.

"Only a pleasant fragrance."

"...."

"Don't worry, rest."

His voice, deep and steady, receded, providing solace to her. Finally reassured, Laila closed her eyes.

***