"Finally, they’re gone," Gillian sighed, the heavy thud of the closing door cutting off the last of the hallway noise. The crowd of the panicked delegation, relieved mages and physicians, and royals had finally cleared out, leaving the room completely, wonderfully quiet.
Sitting up against a mountain of plush white pillows, Princess Iryna let out a long, quiet sigh. She looked down at her hands, tracing the faint, delicate veins beneath her skin where a lethal venom had been coursing only hours prior.
"So..." Iryna murmured softly, her gaze settling on the window where golden morning light reached across the floor. "I really almost died."
The moment the doors closed behind them, shutting out the palace and its countless watchful eyes, the rigid composure he’d worn as a prince slipped away. He let out a quiet breath and moved to the edge of the mattress.
"You did," Gillian answered. He rubbed a hand over his face. "Iryna, you have no idea what it was like. The moment you collapsed in the middle of that crowded ballroom, the entire world seemed to stop. I carried you up here myself. They told me you wouldn’t survive."
Iryna watched her brother, a wave of profound warmth and genuine remorse softening her gaze. It was incredibly rare to see Gillian this vulnerable. He had always been the fierce, protective shield of their family, an unshakeable wall.
"Brother... I am so sorry," Iryna whispered, her voice rough but gentle as she reached out a hand. "I did not mean to put you through such a horrific ordeal."
Gillian shook his head fiercely, refusing to let her take the blame, though he eagerly gripped her hand, his knuckles turning white. "Do not apologize. It was my responsibility to keep you safe under this roof, and I failed. When I looked at you lying there, so cold and pale, I... I felt entirely paralyzed. I couldn’t forgive myself if I lost you, Sister. Had you died because I failed to keep you safe, I would have dragged this entire empire down to hell with me."
Iryna pulled her hand back slightly, using her remaining strength to lean forward. She reached out and pulled her stubborn brother into a warm, tight embrace. Gillian froze for a fraction of a second before burying his face in her shoulder, holding her as though he was afraid to let go.
"You won’t lose me," Iryna promised softly, her hand gently patting his back as she held him tightly. "Look at me. I am sitting up. I am breathing. The danger has completely passed. Your sister is far too stubborn to be taken out by a simple glass of poisoned alcohol."
After a long, comforting moment, Gillian finally pulled back. A faint smile lingered on his lips as he cleared his throat, trying to collect himself. He stepped back slightly, allowing her to rest against the pillows once more.
Iryna settled back, lost in thought for a moment. She tilted her head, tapping her chin with her fingers. "Still, it is truly fascinating. From what they were shouting, everyone in the palace was convinced I was as good as dead. To snatch me back from death’s door... he must be remarkably talented."
Gillian’s muscles tightened instantly. His eyes darted away for a fraction of a second, his posture turning slightly rigid as he muttered a simple, tense reply. "Yes. The old man... worked very hard."
Iryna’s eyes narrowed. She caught Gillian’s weird, fleeting expression instantly. Her brother was an excellent warrior, but he was a terrible liar when it came to her.
"Gillian," Iryna called out. She leaned forward, staring directly into his eyes. "Is there something you are hiding from me?"
Gillian handled his features quickly, forcing a blank, neutral expression onto his face. "What are you talking about? I just told you every single thing that happened after you collapsed. I’ve already shared everything with you. I held nothing back."
Iryna’s lips curled into a sharp, knowing smirk. She caught onto his specific wording like a hawk locking onto its prey.
"Pretty much?" Iryna repeated, her tone dripping with intense amusement and suspicion. "Meaning there are still things that you didn’t tell me. What is it, Gillian? If the High Priest saved me, why did you flinch when I praised him? What exactly are you keeping from your own sister?"
"Nothing," Gillian insisted, stepping back a pace and crossing his arms, desperately trying to play it cool. He scoffed, waving his hand dismissively to deflect her intense gaze. "Honestly, Iryna, you have been talking weirdly ever since you woke up. The poison must have jumbled your brain pathways. You are seeing ghosts where there are none. You had a close brush with death, so you better rest again now. Lay back down."
"My brain is perfectly fine, Gillian, and do not use that patronizing tone with me," Iryna shot back, her eyes flashing with stubborn defiance. "I know you. You only get this stubborn and deflective when you are guarding a heavy secret. Did the High Priest demand a ridiculous price? Did King Alderon make a hidden deal? Tell me!"
"I told you, there is no secret deal!" Gillian argued, his voice rising slightly as they fell into the same old back-and-forth. "The old man did his duty, the heavens granted a miracle, and you are alive. Why must you interrogate me the second you regain consciousness? Just close your eyes and sleep!"
"I will sleep when you give me a straight answer!" Iryna countered, tossing a pillow from the bed directly at his chest. Gillian caught it effortlessly, rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh. "You are a terrible liar, Brother! There is a missing piece to this puzzle, and I will find out..."
Before Iryna could finish her threat, a sudden, sharp knock echoed through the chamber, bringing their argument to an abrupt halt.
Their bickering disappeared at once. Both siblings smoothed away every trace of it, wearing the calm composure expected of royalty.. Gillian smoothly tossed the pillow back onto the armchair, his expression turning cold and authoritative as he turned toward the entrance. Iryna leaned back against her pillows, her face smoothing out into a serene, perfectly composed picture of a resting princess.
"Enter," Gillian called out.
The doors slowly opened, revealing the grand corridor beyond. Stepping into the room with his usual quiet grace, a warm smile on his lips, was Philia.