"We truly do not know what we would have said to the King if something had genuinely happened," one of the senior delegates said, his face pale as he wiped a thick layer of cold sweat from his forehead with a silk handkerchief.
He looked as if he hadn’t slept a single second, his voice trembling with the raw aftermath of panic. "If Her Royal Highness had lost her life under this roof... the diplomatic fallout would have been catastrophic. A full-scale war wouldn’t have just been a threat, it would have been an absolute, bloody certainty."
"Indeed," another high-ranking Solaric diplomat chimed in, his hands shaking slightly as he gestured wildly. "To think that a poison could be slipped into her glass at an imperial banquet! The security of this capital is utterly laughable. We are only standing here by the absolute grace of the heavens."
The rest of the delegates quickly joined the fray, their voices rising in a frantic, chaotic chorus of overlapping complaints, anxious sighs, and desperate prayers of gratitude. The sheer volume of the room was enough to give anyone a splitting headache.
Gillian stood firmly at the head of the bed, his arms crossed tightly as he watched the scene unfold. His eyes scanned the crowded room. The entire Solaric entourage had gathered in the spacious chamber the moment they learned of Iryna’s condition.
"Enough," a soft, yet remarkably steady voice cut through the noise.
Sitting up against a mountain of plush white pillows, Iryna looked remarkably composed. The deathly, ash-gray pallor that had threatened to consume her life only hours prior was entirely gone, replaced by a faint, natural flush along her sharp cheekbones. Though her frame still appeared slightly fragile beneath the heavy duvet, her dark eyes were wide awake and entirely focused.
She offered her frantic delegation a calm, reassuring smile, her voice rough but carrying an undeniable royal weight. "Calm yourselves, everyone. Look at me. I am completely okay now. The danger has passed, and my body feels entirely light. There is no need to stand here weeping as if you are preparing for a funeral."
One of the senior members of the delegation let out a long, shaky breath, bowing his head deeply. "We are only acting out of terror for your safety, Princess. While we thank the gods for your miraculous recovery, the Solaric Empire cannot simply let this slide. We still absolutely need to catch this vicious culprit who dared to harm you. Whoever orchestrated this strike must be hunted down and dragged before the executioner’s block!"
"Rest assured, the crown will provide absolute justice on that matter," a powerful, booming voice suddenly echoed from the doorway.
The doors swung wide, and King Alderon stepped into the chamber. His posture regal, though a lingering layer of exhaustion still shadowed his eyes. Following a step behind his father was Yerel, his expression carefully composed, while the High Priest walked beside him with his usual calm dignity.
Gillian’s muscles tightened instinctively as the imperial royals approached the bed.
"Princess Iryna," King Alderon said, a visible, profound look of genuine relief softening his stern features as he stopped beside the mattress. "To see you awake and speaking so clearly is a sight that warms my very heart. Last night was a dark stain upon our palace, and I offer you my deepest, most sincere apologies. A bunch of things have already been set in motion. The royal guards are working tirelessly, and I assure you, the empire will ensure your absolute safety and comfort for the remainder of your stay."
Yerel stepped forward next, placing a polite hand over his chest as he offered a flawless bow. "My father speaks the truth, Princess. We are immensely overjoyed by your recovery. The capital will not rest until the traitor who violated our hospitality is brought to light."
Gillian watched Yerel closely, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. He knew the court was a nest of vipers, and seeing Yerel act so perfectly chivalrous only made his internal defenses rise.
Taking advantage of the distracting chatter between King Alderon and his people, Gillian subtly shifted his gaze across the room. His eyes locked onto the High Priest, who was standing quietly at the foot of the bed. The religious leader caught Gillian’s eye and offered a small nod.
The silent exchange lasted only a second, but it was enough to make Gillian let out a quiet breath. The nod confirmed everything. The High Priest was holding the line. The fabricated story of a "divine temple miracle" had been completely accepted by the King, and Cherion’s healing power remained buried in absolute secrecy.
Once King Alderon finished his diplomatic assurances, Iryna turned her dark eyes away from the royals, her gaze landing squarely on the old man in the gold-trimmed robes.
"High Priest," Iryna began, her voice softening with a layer of profound respect. She bowed her head slightly from her position against the pillows. "I must offer you my deepest personal gratitude for saving my life. I heard everything from my brother. He told me how you worked relentlessly through the dead of night, exhausting your power just to pull me back from the brink of the underworld."
Gillian held his breath, his eyes darting between his sister and the old priest.
The High Priest simply smiled, a serene, entirely humble expression mapping his wrinkled face. He slowly brought his hands together inside his wide silk sleeves, bowing low in return.
"Your Royal Highness is far too kind, but you must not praise this old servant," the High Priest replied smoothly, his tone carrying the perfect, comforting weight of absolute piety. "It was not my meager hands, nor the lingering magic of the temple, that truly drove the poison from your veins. It was God himself who willed Princess Iryna to be healed. Human efforts had reached their absolute limit last night, your survival is a direct testament to the divine mercy of the heavens."
"Even so, a debt of life cannot be easily brushed aside," Iryna insisted softly, leaning back slightly against her pillows. "The Solaric Empire always recognizes those who stand by us in our darkest hours. I still intend to fully repay this grand kindness, Your Holliness."
Before the High Priest could offer another humble refusal, the senior Solaric delegation who had been wiping his sweat earlier suddenly stepped forward. His anxiety had transformed into a sharp, defensive boldness. He bowed to Iryna, but his eyes darted pointedly toward King Alderon and Yerel.
"Forgive my intrusion, Your Royal Highness, but the burden of any reward should absolutely not fall upon the Solaric Empire," the senior delegation declared, his voice ringing clearly through the chamber. "It is entirely the responsibility of the Auzelian to handle this matter. If not for the laughable security of this place, the Princess would never have been put in harm’s way or poisoned in the first place! The palace owes us an explanation, not the other way around."
The room instantly fell dead silent. Gillian’s posture grew even more rigid, his eyes shifting to see how the King would react to such a blatant, public slap to the imperial family’s pride.
"Shh," Iryna hissed softly, raising a single, elegant hand to silence her overzealous delegate. "Hold your tongue. You are speaking in front of His Majesty."
The man flinched, quickly stepping back into the ranks of the delegation, his face flushing crimson as he realized he had overstepped.
King Alderon’s expression had tightened slightly at the accusation, but before the sovereign could speak, Yerel smoothly stepped into the space between them. Yerel maintained his flawless, perfectly chivalrous composure, a reassuring smile mapping his features as he looked directly at the Solaric entourage.
"Fret not, everyone," Yerel voiced calmly. "The delegate speaks a harsh truth, but a fair one. The crown takes absolute responsibility for what happened during the banquet."
Yerel then turned his gaze back to Iryna, his eyes narrowing just a fraction as a dangerous, chillingly sharp glint flashed beneath his polite mask.
"But more importantly..." Yerel continued. "I give you my word as the Crown Prince. I will not let the culprit who orchestrated this vicious strike just get away. They will be found, and they will pay dearly for violating our peace."
Iryna met his gaze in silence before offering a polite smile. Whatever she was thinking, she kept it to herself.
"Yes," she softly agreed. "I hope so."