The Ice Belle didn’t care that the King of Valerion himself was in the room, nor that the Empress of Lechia stood only a few steps away. Her whole world was still the chunk of steak in her tiny hands. She perched proudly on Lucas’s chest, chewing with small, greedy bites, her cheeks puffing slightly with each mouthful. Grease and juice sared her chin and fingers, streaks of oil glistening against her pale, crystalline skin. The way she tore into the food so innocently made even the Empress pause, the veil on her face shifting with the ghost of a smile she didn’t bother to hide.
The King, however, could only stare in silence. His eyes moved from the Ice Belle to Lira, who was frantically fixing her hair and straightening her clothes as if that could undo the embarrassnt. "Forgive , Your Majesty," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "she’s still... learning manners."
The King tried to speak, but no words ca out. He simply nodded, his expression sowhere between confusion and disbelief.
The room was peaceful for a heartbeat. The small spirit continued her feast, humming a low, content sound as she sat comfortably on Lucas’s unmoving chest. Then, suddenly, Lucas’s body stirred beneath her. A faint twitch first, then a deep, ragged breath escaped his lips. The Ice Belle froze, the piece of steak dropping from her hands.
Lira gasped and fell to her knees beside him. "Xavier?" she called softly, her hand trembling as it hovered above his arm.
A cough broke the silence...harsh at first, then steadier. Lucas’s chest rose and fell heavily as he drew in another breath. His eyelids fluttered open, and for a mont, all they could see were the faint crimson veins tracing across his eyes, still clouded by exhaustion and pain.
"Xavier..." Lira’s voice broke as relief flooded her tone.
The King stepped closer, his disbelief giving way to awe. "He’s awake," he murmured, his voice almost reverent.
The Ice Belle, wide-eyed, crawled back to Lucas’s chest, peering curiously at his face. She let out a small sound...half a chirp, half a sigh...and brushed her tiny hand against his cheek.
Lucas blinked slowly, his gaze unfocused at first before settling on the familiar faces around him. His lips parted, a faint whisper escaping, barely audible.
He was back.
He had awoken.
Lira’s movents were hurried but gentle as she slipped her arm behind his back and helped him sit upright. His body was weak, trembling slightly from the strain of even that small motion. The Ice Belle fluttered to the side, watching him with her large crystalline eyes, clutching the remains of the steak like a small, guilty child.
The Empress, still calm, stepped forward and poured water into a silver cup from the table nearby. Her hand was steady as she brought it to Lucas’s lips. "Drink slowly," she said softly.
Lucas obeyed, though his fingers trembled as he took the cup. The cool water ran down his throat, and with each swallow, it felt as though life was returning to him piece by piece. His vision steadied, but his thoughts... they were a blur. He looked around...at the rich silk drapes, the polished marble, the carved insignia of Valerion above the doorway...and confusion clouded his gaze even further.
He blinked a few tis, trying to gather the scattered fragnts in his mind. Valerion...? How? The last thing he rembered was getting hit by the Empress’s Qi explosion. Everything after that was lost in the void of unconsciousness.
"How... how did I get here?" he finally asked, his voice hoarse and rough, as though unused for an age.
Lira hesitated, a faint smile pulling at her lips despite the tears that glistened in her eyes. "You’ve been asleep for more than forty days," she said softly, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "You’ve only just woken up, Xavier... on the eve of our return to Valerion."
Lucas blinked again, his eyes distant as he tried to process it. Forty days...gone. He glanced toward the Ice Belle, who was now perched quietly on his knee, staring up at him with an almost proud look, her tiny head tilted. He felt her faint divine energy pulsing softly, familiar and comforting.
"So... we made it," he murmured weakly.
The Empress nodded from where she stood, her voice calm but firm. "Yes. You are safe now. Rest your mind and your strength, for the journey that brought you here was one not many would have survived."
Lucas turned his head slightly, and his weary eyes finally caught sight of the king standing a few steps away. The older man’s expression softened at once. What had begun as concern now shifted into unmistakable pride. A warm, almost fatherly smile ford on his face as he approached the bedside.
Without waiting for formalities, the king bent slightly and placed a firm hand on Lucas’s shoulder before pulling him into a gentle embrace. It was brief, yet filled with emotion. "You’ve done more than anyone could have expected," the king said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of respect and affection. "Rest now, my son. You’ve earned it."
Lucas tried to speak, but only a faint rasp escaped his throat. He simply nodded, his eyes eting the king’s for a fleeting mont before fatigue tugged at his gaze again.
The king gave his shoulder another reassuring squeeze. "I’ll return later when you’ve had your strength back," he added. "There will be ti to talk, but for now, sleep. The realm can wait."
With that, he straightened, his proud smile lingering as he stepped back. He looked at Lucas one last ti...at the boy who had walked through death, darkness, and the abyss itself...and nodded approvingly before turning toward the door.
The Empress, who had been silent through the exchange, inclined her head slightly. Her veil shifted as she murmured, almost too softly for anyone but Lucas to hear, "Thank you."
Then she followed the king out, her steps slow and graceful.
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