Soulbound: Dual Cultivation Chapter 67: Alarm

When Lucas stepped into the chamber, the atmosphere was calr than before, no longer tense with dread or uncertainty. At the center, reclining slightly against a pile of velvet-cushioned bolsters, Prince Darius looked pale but far more stable than the last ti Lucas had seen him.

His once arrogant posture was gone. His shoulders now bore a weight that seed to sober him. His eyes, once proud and sharp with disdain, now held a different light, one dimd by pain, perhaps, or maybe reflection.

Lira was seated on a cushioned stool beside the bed, gently adjusting the edge of Darius’s robe to make him more comfortable. The mont her eyes caught Lucas, her face lit up with that familiar brightness he had co to appreciate. She stood quickly, brushing invisible dust from her gown as she stepped towards him.

"You’re here," she said, voice light but filled with relief. "He’s better now... I think the worst is over."

Lucas smiled faintly and nodded, glancing over her shoulder to the recovering prince. "You’ve done well, Lira. Thank you for staying with him."

Lira’s cheeks colored slightly from the praise, and she gave a small bow of acknowledgent before stepping back to allow Lucas to approach Darius.

For a mont, the room was still. Darius didn’t look up imdiately, but Lucas could sense he was aware of his presence. Finally, the prince lifted his gaze, and for once, it held no mockery, no pride, no threat. Just a man who had been close to death... and had been pulled back.

"I didn’t think you’d co," Darius said after a pause. His voice was low, not as commanding as before, touched by a humility that seed foreign on him.

Lucas crossed his arms loosely and gave a half shrug. "I had to make sure the patient I nearly beat myself was still alive."

Darius gave a breath of sothing that was almost a laugh, though it ended in a slight wince. He reached for the edge of his blanket, gripping it as though bracing himself. "I owe you... and I don’t say that lightly. What I said at the banquet, what I’ve said before that, none of it matters now. If you hadn’t stepped in... I would’ve been gone. My family in mourning. My na carved into a slab."

He paused again, looking down, then back up with an expression that was far more genuine than Lucas ever expected from him.

"I’m sorry, Xavier. Let’s put the bad blood behind us."

Lucas stared at him for a mont, studying him, trying to asure whether this newfound humility was genuine or simply the temporary product of fear. But looking into Darius’s eyes, he saw no lies. No prideful challenge hidden beneath the surface.

"I didn’t save you for your apology," Lucas finally replied. "But... I’ll accept it."

There was a brief silence, whatever this new dynamic between him and Darius would be, only ti would tell...but for now, the sword had been lowered.

Lucas turned to Lira again, giving her a small nod. "Let’s get sothing to eat. You’ve been cooped up in here long enough."

Lucas turned again to Prince Darius and adjusted the hem of his robe. "You’ve made progress," he said simply to Darius, who gave a slow nod of acknowledgnt.

Lira lingered near the prince’s bedside, her eyes scanning his expression to be sure he was stable enough to be left in soone else’s care. Then she turned to one of the court attendants who was standing by the far wall.

"Send for the king’s trusted physician," she said gently. "Let him remain here while we are away. His presence may be needed."

The attendant bowed low. "At once, my lady," he replied before stepping out quickly to fulfill her request.

Satisfied, Lira stepped away from the bedside and walked toward Lucas, who was already by the doorway. Together they exited the quiet chamber, the heavy doors closing behind them with a soft thud.

As they made their way down the corridor, Lucas waved over one of the palace servants standing nearby.

"You," he said in a calm but firm tone, "go to the royal kitchen. Tell them to prepare a proper al. Make sure it’s hot and well made. Enough for two. Deliver it to my chamber."

The servant bowed. "At once, young master," he said and scurried away, his footsteps echoing down the polished hall.

Lucas sighed. "Feels like forever since I had a decent bite of food." Lira smiled faintly beside him.

When they reached his chamber, the guards posted at the door gave a respectful nod and stepped aside. Lucas pushed the door open, allowing Lira to step in before him.

Soon the servants arrived with their food and they had barely begun to enjoy their al when the deep, resonant blare of a horn shattered the calm. It echoed through the halls of the estate, heavy and commanding....it summoned urgency. It was the horn ant only for ergencies, and both of them knew it imdiately.

Lira froze where she sat, her eyes wide with worry. Her hands, which had just monts ago held a small bowl of soup, now gripped the edge of the table. She looked at Lucas, and though she said nothing, the fear in her gaze said it all.

Lucas pushed back from the table with a low, sharp breath. He cursed under his breath, frustration darkening his face. This was supposed to be the first proper al he’d had in nearly a week. Everything had been building up, his body tired from cultivation, his soul still adjusting to the tether with Henrietta, and now this. War or whatever it is couldn’t wait just one more hour?

Without wasting another word, Lucas stood, Lira had already risen, tying the sash around her waist as she followed him toward the door. Their food remained half-eaten, steam still rising from the bowls, but neither of them looked back at it.

They stepped out into the corridor, already filled with the sound of rushing footsteps and clanking armor, the estate alive with tension and movent. The horn sounded again, deeper this ti, and more urgent.

Lucas’s jaw clenched as he moved quickly beside Lira.