I blinked my eyes open, the unfamiliar sensation of a warm, damp cloth pressing gently against my forehead pulling me from the haze of unconsciousness. My body felt like it had been through a meat grinder—aching, leaden, and altogether unpleasant. I let out a groan, squinting at the figure hovering above me.
To my utter surprise, it was Rin.
Her movements were precise, practiced even. She wiped my forehead carefully before dipping the cloth into a bowl of water beside her. She looked… radiant. The darkness that had once consumed her was gone, leaving her features soft and unburdened. But what struck me most was her expression—pure, unfiltered adoration. Her eyes gleamed with warmth as though I had hung the stars just for her.
"You're awake," she said, her voice light and relieved. "I was starting to worry."
I blinked again, the haze of sleep slipping away. "Rin?" I croaked, my voice hoarse.
"Yes, me," she said with a small laugh. "Who else would it be?"
Her smile was bright enough to rival the sun, and for a moment, I forgot about the dull ache in my limbs. But then I noticed the room wasn't entirely filled with warmth. My gaze shifted to the corner of the room, and there he was.
Valen.
The King of the West stood tall and imposing, his arms crossed over his chest, his piercing gaze boring into me with the intensity of a thousand suns. His expression was unreadable, save for the hint of irritation etched into the hard lines of his face.
I swallowed, the weight of his stare heavier than the seals he had once used to contain Rin. "Your Majesty," I started, sitting up slightly despite the protest of my muscles. "I apologize for the battle… and for overstepping my boundaries. I know I had no right to—"
"Save it," Valen interrupted, his voice sharp. He scoffed, the sound filled with disdain. "I'm not angry about the battle."
That caught me off guard. I blinked at him, confused. "Then why—"
"Because," he said, his glare unwavering, "I'm not sure if I should strangle you for risking your life or thank you for saving my daughter."
The room fell into silence, heavy with unspoken words. Rin, to my surprise, didn't seem fazed. If anything, she glared back at Valen, a stubborn tilt to her chin.
"Father, stop glaring at him," she said firmly, placing a protective hand on my arm. "He saved me. He's the reason I'm here, free, and whole." Her voice softened as she turned to me, her expression tender. "You're the reason I'm alive, Arthur."
I opened my mouth to respond, but the lump in my throat made it impossible. Rin's unwavering defense of me, her clear affection, was something I hadn't anticipated. It was… humbling, to say the least.
Valen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Rin," he said, his tone laced with exasperation. "We need to go. Arthur needs rest."
Her face fell instantly, her reluctance painfully clear. "But—"
"Rin," Valen said, a note of finality in his voice. "Let him rest."
She hesitated, her gaze flicking between me and her father. Finally, with a sigh of her own, she stood, though her hand lingered on my arm for a moment longer. "You better rest," she said softly, her eyes locking onto mine. "I'll come back to check on you."
And just like that, she was gone, trailing after her father as he led her out of the room. The warmth she'd brought with her seemed to go with her, leaving the room feeling colder, quieter.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, sinking back into the bed. The quiet didn't last long, though. Moments later, Jin stepped into the room, his usual stoic expression softened by something almost unreadable. Gratitude? Relief? It was hard to tell with him.
"Arthur," he said, stepping closer. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got hit by a train," I replied dryly, managing a weak smile.
Jin's lips twitched—was that almost a smile?—before he pulled up a chair and sat beside me. For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze fixed on the floor.
"Thank you," he said finally, his voice low. "For saving her."
I raised a brow. "You don't need to thank me, Jin. She's your sister. It was the right thing to do."
Jin looked at me then, his dark eyes filled with an intensity I hadn't seen before. "Maybe. But most people wouldn't have gone that far. You did."
I didn't know how to respond to that. So, I just nodded, letting the silence settle between us, surprisingly comfortable despite everything.
"If it's you… I guess it's okay," Jin whispered as he stood, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
I tilted my head, confused by his cryptic tone. He left before I could ask, leaving me with the distinct impression that I'd somehow wandered into something far more complicated than I realized.
As he reached the door, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder. "By the way, your three princesses have been pinging your phone nonstop. You should check it."
And then he was gone, leaving me to face the buzzing device on the bedside table. I sighed and picked it up, only to be greeted by an avalanche of missed calls and frantic messages from Rachel, Cecilia, and Seraphina.
It took some effort—and a lot of repeated assurances that I was, in fact, still alive—but eventually, I managed to calm them all down. The mixture of relief, exasperation, and affection in their voices warmed me despite my exhaustion.
Just as I set the phone down, feeling the ache of lingering fatigue settle into my bones, the door opened again.
This time, it wasn't someone I expected.
The Queen of the West, Camila Ashbluff, stepped gracefully into the room. Her regal presence filled the space, her posture straight and commanding, but her eyes gleamed with warmth that softened the air around her.
"Your Majesty," I said quickly, attempting to sit up and bow, but the weight of exhaustion pulled me back.
"Be at ease, Arthur," she said with a smile, using my name instead of my title as Guild Grandmaster. "You've done the Ashbluffs a great boon by saving my daughter's life."
And then, to my utter shock, she bowed to me.
"Please, Your Majesty, raise your head!" I stammered, half-pulling myself up in alarm.
"No, no," she chuckled, straightening with an air of casual grace. "This is only right. My husband may not show it—well, you've seen how he is—but we owe you everything. Even if it bruised his pride that you managed to best him in battle."
I scratched the back of my head awkwardly, unsure how to respond. Camila's laughter was light, almost teasing, as though she found my discomfort amusing.
"Well then," she continued, her eyes glinting with a mischievous spark that immediately put me on edge. "I hear you have four fiancées. Tell me, Arthur, what do you think a—"
Before she could finish, the door slammed open with a resounding thud. Both of us turned to see Rin standing in the doorway, her expression a mixture of embarrassment and irritation, her cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of red.
"Mother. Out," Rin said firmly, crossing her arms.
Camila sighed dramatically, as though this were a recurring routine. "My daughter wakes up after eighteen years and is already so mean to me," she said with a theatrical pout.
"Leave!" Rin snapped, her tone sharper this time.
Camila laughed, a rich, musical sound, and with one final smile in my direction, she gracefully exited the room. "Take care of him, Rin," she called over her shoulder. "And don't let him overexert himself."
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving me alone with Rin. My mind churned as I tried to process what had just happened. Camila's sly grin, Valen's earlier glare, Jin's cryptic acceptance… I could feel the pieces clicking together, though I desperately wished they weren't.
'Wait… is this what I think it is?' I thought, my gaze darting to Rin.
Her face was flushed, her eyes refusing to meet mine as she walked to my bedside. Without a word, she picked up the cloth and water bowl, carefully wringing out the towel before dabbing it on my forehead. Her touch was gentle, but her movements were stiff, almost nervous.
"Sleep," Rin said quietly, her voice betraying none of the emotions I could see flickering in her expression.
As the cool towel pressed against my skin, I couldn't help but stare at her. The fierce, unyielding girl who had once been consumed by darkness now looked… soft. Vulnerable. I felt the weight of her care in every movement, the unspoken gratitude that lingered in her every gesture.
But there was something more.
I wasn't sure I was ready to figure out what.
For now, I let her continue, the silence between us filled with unsaid words and the lingering warmth of her presence.