The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 135: Walls

The walk back to the cave happened in silence.

Heavy silence. The kind that pressed down on shoulders and made breathing feel difficult, that filled the space between us with all the words neither of us was saying.

Eris wouldn’t look at me.

Kept her gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder or down at her hands or anywhere that wasn’t my face. Avoiding eye contact like it would hurt her. Like seeing whatever expression I wore would make this worse.

I carried her through the waterfall, into the cool darkness of the cave, back to the alcove where we’d slept tangled together just hours ago. Set her down carefully on the furs.

She immediately moved away.

Crawled to the far side of the space. Put as much distance between us as the alcove allowed. Sat with her back against the frozen wall, arms crossed over her chest, defensive posture that screamed don’t come closer.

I sat across from her silently.

Gave her the space she clearly wanted. Didn’t push. Didn’t demand she talk to me or explain or acknowledge that shutting me out hurt more than her words had.

Just monitored her quietly.

Watched for signs of pain. Temperature spikes. Eyes flickering gold. Any indication that her condition was worsening, that the seal was fracturing faster than the nymphs had predicted.

As long as she was safe, I could handle the silence.

Could handle the distance. Could handle her being angry at me if it meant she stayed alive long enough for those walls to come down eventually.

Minutes passed.

Five. Ten. Fifteen.

She stared at the cave floor. I watched her stare at the cave floor. The nymphs hovered near the entrance, giving us privacy but clearly concerned.

The silence should have been bearable.

Should have been fine. I’d sat through longer silences. More uncomfortable ones. Negotiations that stretched for hours without a single word spoken.

This was different.

This wasn’t tactical. This was personal. This was the woman I’d carried through wilderness and held while she slept and touched in ways that made her fall apart now treating me like a stranger, like someone who couldn’t be trusted, like I hadn’t earned the right to care about whether she lived or died.

The distance was killing me.

Not the silence. The wall. The deliberate shutting out. The way she was sitting over there alone when she should be here with me, should be letting me help instead of carrying everything by herself like she always did.

I lasted maybe twenty minutes before I couldn’t take it anymore.

Sighed.

Got up. Started walking toward her.

Her head snapped up immediately.

"Stay there."

I kept walking.

"I said stay—"

Ignored her completely. Crossed the space between us in four strides. Didn’t stop until I was close enough to touch, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.

She glared.

I crouched down in front of her. Eye level now. Close enough to see the pain she was trying to hide, the exhaustion she wouldn’t acknowledge, the fear underneath all that stubborn pride.

"I’m sorry for making you angry."

Said it simply. Genuinely. No deflection or excuses or attempts to justify my earlier reaction.

"I was worried about your health. I still am."

She looked away.

Jaw tightening. Not accepting the apology but not rejecting it either. Just... processing. Trying to figure out how to respond when her instinct was to keep those walls up, to maintain distance, to not let anyone close enough to hurt her.

I continued because she needed to hear this whether she wanted to or not.

"You always carry everything alone your majesty" My voice came out softer than intended. "You hate asking for help. Hate admitting when you’re hurt or tired or need support. You’d rather push yourself until you collapse than let anyone see you’re struggling."

Her eyes flickered back to me. Something vulnerable crossing her face before she could hide it.

"It makes me sad," I admitted, "that you don’t trust me enough to share your burdens."

The words hung between us.

Her expression shifted. Guilt replacing defensiveness. The wall cracking just slightly, just enough to let me see what was underneath.

"That’s exactly why." She looked away again.

"I don’t want to be a burden on anyone. I don’t want to be at their mercy"

Quiet. Almost too quiet to hear. Said like confession, like admitting something shameful, like being a burden was the worst thing she could possibly be.

My chest ached.

"You could never be a burden to me your majesty."

Immediate. Firm. No hesitation or doubt or room for her to misinterpret.

I sat beside her before she could stop me and reached for her.

Pulled her closer and guided her off the wall, onto my lap, arranging her so she straddled me, so we were face to face with nowhere to hide.

She stiffened.

But didn’t pull away. Didn’t fight. Just sat there rigid and uncertain, hands hovering near my shoulders like she couldn’t decide whether to push me away or hold on.

I needed her to understand something.

Needed to explain what was happening to her body, why staying was necessary, why this wasn’t just me being overprotective or trying to manipulate more time together.

The pieces had been assembling in my mind since I’d caught her. The temperature spike. The flickering eyes. The way her collapse had felt different from simple exhaustion. And what the nymphs had said about seals breaking unevenly.

Two seals.

There had to be two. The one binding Pyronox to her soul was old magic. Divine.

The kind that predated kingdoms and couldn’t be undone without killing the vessel. I’d felt it when the dragon had possessed her in the temple. Recognized the signature of binding so ancient and powerful that even the river wouldn’t dare touch it.

But the river had done something. Had sealed her fire. Given her cold. Suppressed the magic that came from housing a god.

That was new. Temporary. And now breaking.

If the temporary seal dissolved too quickly while she was traveling, while her body was stressed and her core wasn’t ready to receive that power back... it wouldn’t matter that the dragon was still bound. Her body would rupture from the inside out when all that suppressed fire flooded back at once.

Catastrophic. Violent. Fatal.

The river could stabilize it. But only if we stayed. Only if she gave her core time to remember how to contain divine fire without burning itself apart.

"The river made a seal to stabilize your core," I said, meeting her eyes. "It’s only meant to hold back your fire magic while you heal. But it’s coming apart unevenly, and if you leave too soon, your body won’t survive when it fully breaks. You have to stay here and let it fade slowly if you want to live."

She stared at me.

Silent. Processing. Understanding finally why I’d been so insistent, why the nymphs had been so alarmed, why this wasn’t negotiable.

"So no Your Majesty," I continued quietly, "this isn’t about me wanting more time with you. Though I do. This is about keeping you alive long enough that we have a future worth planning for."

Her hands had settled on my shoulders, not pushing away. Just resting there. Grounding herself.

"No one else alive knows," she said suddenly.

Quiet. Like confession.

"About the dragon inside me. You’re the only one who knows now."

Something in my chest tightened.

The weight of that. The trust it implied. That she was carrying this secret alone, that everyone who’d known was either dead or had never cared, that I was the first person she’d allowed to see this part of her.

"I’m sorry," I said.

She looked up. Surprised.

"That you’ve had to carry that alone," I continued. "That no one helped you. That whoever bound that thing to you left you to deal with the consequences by yourself."

Her expression crumpled slightly.

Just for a moment. Just long enough for me to see how much it had cost her, carrying this secret, living with something divine and deadly sealed inside her bones.

"Don’t," she said. "Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault."

"Then don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault either."

She shook her head slightly.

"I should have listened. Should have trusted that you weren’t just being overprotective without reason." She insisted.

"I didn’t mean to snap like that. To say it was none of your business when..." She paused. Swallowed. "When clearly it is. When you’ve done nothing but try to help me since we met."

Her gaze dropped.

Started drifting away again. That shy uncertainty I’d seen glimpses of but she rarely let show fully.

"I was only angry because you were angry," she admitted. "Because seeing you upset made me feel... I don’t know. Guilty. Like I’d disappointed you somehow."

I caught it.

The vulnerability. The admission that my opinion mattered to her, that my emotions affected hers, that she cared what I thought even when she pretended not to.

A smile tugged at my lips despite the seriousness of the conversation.

"You’re adorable when you’re shy," I said.

Her eyes snapped back to mine.

Glaring now. "I’m not shy."

"You are." I pulled her closer. Eliminated what little space remained between us. "You’re avoiding my eyes while apologizing. That’s shy behavior."

"I’m not—"

I leaned in.

Close enough that our lips almost touched. Close enough that she had to stop talking or risk closing that final distance herself.

"You’re so cute Your Majesty," I murmured against her mouth, "when you try to act tough after showing me you’re soft underneath."

Her breath hitched.

Face flushing that gorgeous color that meant she was flustered and didn’t know how to handle it, that meant I’d gotten past her defenses and hit something real.

"You’re such a pain," she whispered.

No conviction in it. Just automatic response. The thing she said when I made her feel things she didn’t have names for yet.

"Liar," I whispered back.

And pulled her fully against me, wrapping my arms around her, holding her close enough that she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to.

She didn’t try.

Just settled against my chest with a small sound that might have been relief or resignation or just exhaustion catching up with her.

I could count her eyelashes, could see the faint gold still flickering in her irises, could feel the residual heat radiating off her skin.