To be completely honest, Cherion hadn’t expected to run into Philia the literal second he stepped through the doors of Iryna’s chamber. But then again, the guy basically lived in the imperial palace, constantly hovering around the royal family like a piece of pristine, self-righteous wallpaper. It made sense that he would pop out of nowhere precisely when things were at their most dramatic.
Well, whatever, Cherion thought, his arms hanging loosely at his sides as he walked deeper into the spacious chamber. He wasn’t going to let Captain Virtuous ruin his morning.
"Ah, Duke Zarius, Lord Cherion," Philia voiced, gesturing slightly toward the doorway as he turned to face them, his voice smooth and melodic. "It is truly reassuring to see the North showing such profound concern for Her Highness."
Cherion didn’t even blink at the thinly veiled jab. He didn’t look intimidated, nor did he adopt the rigid, defensive posture most nobles assumed when Philia tried to corner them. Instead, he just tilted his head, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into a lazy, amused smirk.
"Is it really that surprising, Lord Philia?" Cherion asked, his tone entirely casual as he took another step forward. "I mean, practically everyone in the palace is losing their minds with concern for Princess Iryna after what happened last night. You’re here doing the exact same thing, aren’t you? So how come the North showing up to check on her seems like such a shock to you? Do you think we don’t have manners?"
Philia’s smile twitched slightly at the direct counter, his eyes narrowing just a fraction before his composed expression settled back into place.
"Oh, no, not at all, Lord Cherion. Please, do not twist my words," Philia replied softly, letting out a small chuckle as if Cherion had simply made a silly joke. "I merely meant that with the current political climate, and the sheer chaos of the investigation, it is admirable that the North is making such a public appearance. The nobility outside are quite... volatile at the moment. They are looking for answers wherever they can find them."
"Then it’s a good thing we don’t care about what the other nobles thinks," Zarius rumbled from behind Cherion. His voice was like grinding stone, deep and entirely devoid of warmth. He didn’t even look at Philia, keeping his chilling gaze directed strictly toward Gillian. "Our allegiance is to the throne, not to the gossiping sheep in out there."
The sheer weight of Zarius’s presence was enough to make lesser men break into a sweat, but Philia merely bowed his head in a show of deep respect.
"Of course, Your Grace. The unwavering loyalty of the North is legendary," Philia murmured. He then turned his focus back to Cherion. "I only worry because I heard Her Highness’s condition was so dire. It makes one wonder about the exact sequence of events that transpired in this very room."
Cherion let out a quiet, scoffing laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. He could practically see the gears turning in Philia’s head.
"If you’re that curious about the sequence of events, you should go ask the High Priest," Cherion countered, his eyes locked onto Philia’s with absolute composure. "He’s the one who walked out of here looking like he aged ten years. Unless, of course, you don’t trust the capabilities of the Holy Temple?"
"I have the utmost faith in the Holy Temple, Lord Cherion," Philia said, his voice dropping into a tighter, sharper register. The polite facade was stretching thin, unable to handle Cherion’s blunt refusal to play the standard game of courtly pleasantries. "I am simply amazed by the speed of the miracle. It is a rare blessing."
From the bed, Iryna watched the exchange with an intense, dangerous spark of curiosity. She noticed how Cherion effortlessly handled Philia, completely unfazed by the holy disciple’s status or his psychological traps. More importantly, she noticed how Gillian stood entirely still, not saying a single word to defend the Temple’s narrative, almost as if he were waiting for Cherion to take the lead.
Deciding she had tolerated Philia’s subtle interrogation long enough, Iryna cleared her throat, her regal voice cutting through the lingering tension.
"Indeed, it is a blessing, Lord Philia," Iryna spoke up. "And as much as I appreciate your profound worry and your prayers, I am still recovering. The room is getting rather crowded, and the noise is beginning to make my head throb."
The message couldn’t have been clearer: it was time to leave. Shoo shoo.
Philia recognized when he had completely lost his footing. He was entirely outnumbered in a room full of people who either disdained him or refused to give him a single scrap of information. Remaining any longer would only make him look desperate and unseemly.
"Forgive me, Your Royal Highness," Philia said smoothly, dipping into a flawless, perfectly executed bow toward the bed. "I did not mean to disturb your rest. Since I can see with my own eyes that you are safe and well, my heart is entirely relieved. I shall take my leave now."
He straightened up, maintaining his gentle smile as he nodded politely toward Gillian, who offered a rigid, silent nod in return. Finally, Philia turned his gaze toward Cherion.
"I am sure we will have much more to discuss later with the others, Lord Cherion," Philia voiced softly, his tone dripping with an unspoken promise of trouble.
"Can’t wait," Cherion replied with a lazy shrug.
Philia turned and began his elegant walk toward the doors. Cherion didn’t move an inch, standing comfortably in the center of the walkway.
As Philia brushed directly past him, the space between them shrinking to mere inches, the polite smiles vanished from both of their faces in a fraction of a second. Philia’s eyes darted sideways, locking onto Cherion with a sharp, intensity, a silent, chilling vow that he would peel back whatever secrets the youth was hiding. Cherion met the glare head-on, his blue eyes cool, mocking, and entirely dangerous, a silent challenge daring Philia to try.
For a single, breathless heartbeat, their gazes clashed like drawing swords, before Philia fully swept past him and stepped out into the corridor, the doors slamming shut behind him.