The air in the room was colder than ever, Icarus had been staring at her ever since she walked in, and all her conscience could do was judge her. Isabelle had her suspicions, but she didn't speak, not did she jump to conclusions mentally.
"How was it?" Icarus asked, his emotionless eyes boring deep into the core of her fearful ones.
"How was what? I..I don't understand.." Isabelle returned, her eyes still fixed on him despite her mind screaming that she breaks eye contact. She knew that looking away would only make her look more suspicious, so she did the opposite of what the voice in her head wanted.
"Don't play dumb princess. You were just with him, weren't you? You were—"
"It was nothing." Isabelle interjected quickly. She knew how blunt this man could be, and she wanted to save herself the embarrassment of hearing him complete that sentence. "I'm human, you know?!"
Icarus clenched his fists in suppressed rage. It was good that she was aware of what she'd done. Not only had she disobeyed his orders, she had gone ahead to make love with his personal guard.
"You know you're going to face consequences for disobeying me."
Isabelle lowered her head in submission. While she wondered what sort of punishment she was going to receive, she also wondered when Icarus had caught her. Did he watch them make love? Her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment at the thought. She knew he could be unpredictable and shameless, but doing that would be too much even for a tyrant like Adamine Icarus.
"I'll take every punishment, please don't involve Isaac." She muttered, and in that instant the air got colder.
"Isaac this, Isaac that! Tell me, do you love him that much?" Icarus asked, his temper slightly slipping past his control. "You said you're just friends, yet you risk your safety just to be with him. You constantly try to save him, what is up between you two..?!" He slowed down after realizing that he might have sounded a bit desperate.
Determined to make himself feel less embarrassed by his words, he moved forward, intending to address the insubordination. However, a sudden, excruciating pain seized his chest. It felt as if an invisible vice had closed around his heart, squeezing the breath from his lungs. Gasping, words of reprimand turned into silent struggles for air.
He doubled over, hand pressed against the source of the pain, he felt the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, and soon red liquid came pouring from his mouth. Each labored breath intensified the ache, blurring the world around him. Crimson warmth stained his fingers, and reality seemed to warp, the edges of his vision darkening.
Crumbled on the ground, fist clenched in futile resistance, the anger that had consumed him moments ago gave way to a chilling awareness. Pain, fear, they both fought to consume him, but he fought back.
The room had echoed with the thud of the fallen Icarus. Isabelle watched as blood, dark and ominous, trickled from his mouth, staining the fine fabric of his royal garments. His eyes, once cold and commanding , pleaded for help.
She stood aside, unsure of what to do next. Her hatred for him simmered in her gaze as she observed the fallen king. Yet, even as her heart pulsed with resentment, a conflict stirred within her.
Time seemed to stop as Isabelle hesitated, her eyes narrowing at the bleeding man beneath her. Her hatred tugged at her, urging her to ignore the pain in her chest and walk away. However, her humanity , buried beneath layers of resentment, urged her to reconsider.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and with reluctant determination, Isabelle moved forward, her steps deliberate. Kneeling beside the pale and cold man, she assessed the severity of his condition. This was definitely a product of dark magic, very powerful dark magic. Was Adamine Icarus cursed? And if he was, who was strong enough to curse him? Ever since she'd seen him throw up blood, she has always wondered what was the cause of his troubles. At first she thought he might have been wounded from fighting her father and the guards, but today had nullified those assumptions.
Her hand hovered over Icarus's convulsing form, and from them poured out a pure source of energy.
A bright crystal barrier engulfed Icarus, and slowly the pain in his chest died out. Thanks to Avalon, Isabelle had developed healing abilities. People were able to heal themselves from injuries, but very few knew how to use that ability to save others who weren't capable of healing themselves. And that was why in a world where powers existed, healers still existed.
As Isabelle's energy poured into him, Icarus's convulsions eased, and the bleeding slowed. He had gone to healers before, and while they'd been able to temporarily keep the pain away, it returned after days, sometimes even hours. He knew this wouldn't be any different, but he had a feeling that hers might provide a solution a little bit longer than temporary.
Quite frankly, he had no idea she would even step up to save him. He expected her to stand and watch him suffer, but unlike him, this princess had a heart.
Once satisfied that Icarus was stabilized, Isabelle rose, her conflicted emotions still etched on her face. Without sparing another glance at the fallen man, she hurried from the room. Her footsteps echoed through the corridors as she sought out Julian. She had no idea what had happened to Icarus, but if somebody could help him it was definitely Julian.
She found him in the mansion's study, his attention buried deep in the scroll he was reading.
Her hasty approach disturbed his attention, and he turned to meet her disoriented expression. "What is it, princess? You look troubled."
"Icarus—" Isabelle paused to catch her breath and also rethink her words. "The king suddenly fell, he's bleeding from his mouth." She informed and watched as Julian's once bright face became livid with fear. Without another question, the man grabbed Isabelle by the arm, and in the next second they were back in the room. They'd teleported, Icarus's room was less than a hundred steps away from the study, but the urgency of the situation demanded that no second was wasted on walking or running.
When the two appeared, the once fallen man was back on his feet. His clothes and floor were still stained with blood, but he seemed to be doing better than he was a few seconds ago.
"Icarus—"
"It's fine Julian, I'm okay now." Icarus interjected before disappearing into the privacy of the bathroom.
Julian glared towards Isabelle who merely shrugged in confusion. Icarus always recovered fast whenever he was stricken down, but Julian could tell something different had happened, and it had something to do with this Princess.
Instead of sticking around, he decided to listen to Icarus's words and leave. They'd eventually discuss later, for now he'd just leave him to deal with his prisoner as he likes.