His vines must be hollow—stuffed full of schemes instead of sap. Soon after, Edric and Corvin went off to make dinner, while Emma headed to Marcus' room to give him some mental comfort. Marcus had been asleep for an entire day. When Emma entered, he was still lying motionless inside his crystal coffin, eyes closed, looking every bit like a corpse. She leaned over to study him. His long lashes brushed against pale skin, his face finely cut, almost too still—like marble touched by winter. Only the faint crease between his brows hinted at some quiet strain beneath the calm. "Marcus?" she called softly. At the sound of her voice, the man in the coffin slowly opened his eyes. "Ms. Tibarn." His dull, lifeless gaze fixed on her with quiet seriousness. He shifted slightly, trying to sit up, but Emma stopped him. "I'm here to soothe you. Just lie still." Marcus nodded and placed his hands back down, obedient as always. Emma pressed her fingertips to the center of his forehead, channeling her mental power gently into his mental consciousness. After doing this twice before, she had become much more adept at controlling her energy. This time, she even molded the serpent a horn, turning it into a serpent dragon. The little dragon was stronger than the snake she had conjured before, devouring more of the ice spikes that plagued Marcus' consciousness. When it finally burst apart, Emma withdrew her power and looked at him. His eyes were open now, and for the first time, a faint spark of vitality glimmered within them. "How do you feel?" she asked. "Any better than before?" Marcus nodded seriously. "It feels better—much lighter than the last two times." Relieved, Emma smiled. "Good. I think I'll reach Rank Six soon. When that happens, my mental power will grow stronger too. Maybe I'll be able to clear those ice spikes faster." "Thank you, Ms. Tibarn," Marcus said quietly, his eyes steady on her. As a stray lock of hair brushed against her cheek, he lifted a hand, his cool fingertips brushing lightly along her face as he tucked the strand behind her ear. "Your hair was messy," he murmured. His tone was soft and cold, yet carried a trace of tenderness that was almost imperceptible. Emma's ears grew warm. She touched the spot he had brushed, and the skin there still tingled with the ghost of his cool touch—then slowly burned with heat. "Thanks," she said quickly, standing up. "I should go eat. If you're not hungry, you can keep resting." Ahhhhh! Her inner voice screamed. She couldn't believe how easily she flushed from Marcus tucking her hair back. Emma Tibarn, get a grip! This isn't your first rodeo! How can you still get flustered over something so small?! Marcus watched her hurry away, then frowned at his own hand. Why did she leave so fast? Were my fingers too cold? Did I freeze her by accident? He climbed out of the crystal coffin slowly, lips pressed together as he stared down at the icy shell. … In the kitchen, Corvin nearly dropped a pan when Marcus walked in. "Marcus? You came to the kitchen on your own? That's… shocking." Corvin plated the last dish, washed his hands, and took out the small bundle of leaves Silas had given them. "Silas handed these out earlier. Prince Lucien told me to give yours to you when you woke up." Marcus accepted the leaves quietly. He didn't need them, but he couldn't reject someone's goodwill. After putting them away, he pulled out a Rank 10 insect core and handed it to Corvin. "I need your help with something." Corvin gawked at the core in disbelief. A Rank 10 insect core? What does he want—an assassination? "What kind of help?" he wondered. What sort of therian could a Rank 11 fighter like him not handle on his own? "Just so we're clear," he quickly added, "if you're asking me to kill someone, I'm out. Unless it's some evil b*stard who deserves it, I'm not helping." "You're overthinking it," Marcus replied flatly. This guy's imagination really is something else. I'm suicidal, not mad. Why would I, a Rank 11, need help assassinating from a Rank 9?"I just need you to help me decorate my room," he said weakly. "Use the tricks Silas taught you. Can you do that?" Then he produced two more Rank 10 insect cores and placed them on the counter. "If that's not enough, I can add more." Corvin's eyes widened. "No, no—that's plenty!" He picked up one core hesitantly, staring at Marcus in disbelief. "Wait, you really want me to decorate your room using Silas' tricks?" But what decent room could come out of using Silas' ideas?! he thought, suspicious. "Marcus, why did you suddenly want to decorate your room?" Marcus' reply was simple and deadpan. "To sleep." Corvin stared at him for a long moment. He was pretty sure Marcus had no idea what he was getting himself into.