"Your Royal Highness, Prince Gillian," Philia greeted them, offering a flawless, perfectly executed bow. He then turned his gaze toward the bed, his eyes softening with an expression of profound joy. "And Princess Iryna. To see you sitting up and breathing so comfortably... the heavens have truly listened to our desperate prayers."
"Lord Philia," Gillian responded. His voice was polite but carried a distinctly cool, guarded edge. He stepped slightly to the side, positioning himself like a shield between the visitor and his sister’s bedside. "We appreciate you coming all this way to check on her."
"It is the very least I could do," Philia replied softly as he stepped closer.
As he approached, Philia’s sharp eyes meticulously scanned the princess. His mind was racing, picking apart every single detail.
She truly does look entirely fine, he thought to himself. Her skin possessed a healthy, natural flush, her breathing was perfectly deep and even. It was almost as if the terrifying, chaotic crisis from last night had never happened at all.
"How are you feeling, Princess?" Philia asked gently. "The entire palace was gripped by a suffocating terror when you collapsed. The mages were utterly devastated by their own helplessness. Is there any lingering discomfort? Any pain or discomfort?"
Iryna offered a polite, distant smile, her eyes reflecting the morning sunlight pouring through the windows.
"You are too kind, Lord Philia," Iryna answered, her rough voice carrying a smooth, regal weight. "My body actually feels remarkably light. The poison has completely left my veins. I appreciated your deep care and concern, but there is no need to worry yourself further. I already have my brother to look after my recovery, and the royal physicians have ensured I have everything I need."
It was a textbook, elegant rejection, a polite way of closing the door on any further medical probing. Yet, Philia did not give up easily. He maintained his gentle smile, tilting his head with an air of innocent, pious curiosity.
"That is a profound relief to hear," Philia murmured, smoothly steering the conversation with a delicate, dangerous precision. "A miracle of this scale is truly a wonder of the world. When the High Priest stepped out of these chambers this morning, he looked entirely spent, as if he had poured every single drop of the Grand Temple’s holy reserves into you. Tell me, Princess... do you remember the exact moment you woke up? Did you feel a sudden, overwhelming burst of light magic cleansing the catalyst?"
Before Iryna could answer, Gillian stepped into the conversation, his voice dropping into a firm, diplomatic register. "My sister was unconscious throughout the purification process, Lord Philia. She only opened her eyes long after the High Priest had finished his sacred duties. She wouldn’t know anything."
"Ah, of course. Forgive my curiosity," Philia smiled as though nothing had happened, a soft, melodic chuckle slipping past his lips. He turned his eyes back to Iryna. "It is just that the poison used was deemed entirely fatal by the highest authorities. The Holy Temple’s hidden techniques are truly magnificent, aren’t they?"
"They are indeed," Iryna replied. She leaned back against her plush white pillows, her gaze tracking Philia’s face. "The heavens work in mysterious ways. We can only be grateful that the gods chose to extend their ultimate mercy to me last night."
Philia nodded in reverent agreement, but his internal alarm bells were ringing loudly. The synchronized, flawless wall that both Gillian and Iryna were presenting to him only made him intensely suspicious. Neither of them was acting surprised, panicked, or overly defensive. They were simply handling him like an annoyance to be managed.
Realizing he wouldn’t get a straight answer or a careless slip-up from the sharp Solaric siblings, Philia decided to shift his angle. He adjusted his sleeves, offering a gentle, thoughtful sigh as if he were merely musing about the upcoming political storm.
"The palace will certainly be lively once everyone sees you safe and well," Philia voiced softly, his sharp eyes locking onto Iryna’s face to catch her very first reaction. "The nobility are in a complete frenzy outside. Wild theories are flying everywhere. Some have even turned their suspicions toward the Northern faction. In particular... many believe they are responsible for everything."
Gillian’s posture grew remarkably rigid, but he kept his tongue.
"The North?" Iryna echoed, her eyebrows raising in an expression of polite, amused curiosity.
"Yes," Philia replied, his voice dropping into a confidential whisper. "They say the Duke has always disdained the capital. And curiously, Lord Cherion... he remained chillingly calm throughout the entire incident last night. While everyone else was screaming in absolute terror, he didn’t blink a single eye. Some find that lack of panic rather suspicious. Even Lady Marielle, too."
Iryna’s eyes glinted with a sudden, sharp spark of intense fascination.
Before Philia could probe her reaction any further, a sudden, firm knock rattled the doors.
The interruption was sharp, and before Gillian could even call out an order to enter, the double doors were smoothly pushed open from the outside.
Standing in the threshold of the royal chamber was a group that instantly commanded the entire volume of the room. Duke Zarius stepped inside first, his imposing, towering frame covered in dark northern attire that seemed to bring a wave of freezing air into the stuffy capital suite. Walking right beside him, completely relaxed and wearing a smile, was Cherion. Flanking them from behind was Marielle, her hand resting loosely on her hip, her sharp gaze sweeping the room like a hawk.
Philia froze, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes locked onto Cherion’s effortlessly confident expression.
Forcing his stiff shoulders to relax, Philia swallowed his shock and smoothly pivoted on his heel. He plastered his gentle, benevolent smile back onto his face, though a cold edge sharpened his tone as he broke the silence.
"Ah, what a surprise," Philia voiced, gesturing slightly toward the doorway as he turned to face them. "It seems you are coming here to check on the princess as well."
Cherion didn’t even glance at Philia’s facade. He kept his stride slow and relaxed, walking right past the holy disciple as if he were nothing more than a piece of decorative palace furniture. His eyes locked onto Iryna before his gaze drifted to Gillian’s rigid stance.
Stopping comfortably in the center of the room, Cherion offered the Solaric siblings a casual, entirely unfazed look.
He tilted his head, looking far too pleased with himself.
"You don’t mind if we join the conversation too, right?"