358: A heart's second awakening

A heart's second awakening

1The white crescent ascended the afternoon sky prematurely, almost as if it were eager to bring an end to a day that witnessed an unexpected attack on the heart of Lanark, the von Conradie estate.0

While the Emorian Monarch engaged in an urgent meeting with the ambassadors representing Kolhis, the Western Kingdom, and the Eastern Kingdom, a tense conversation took place within the confines of the Archduchess's study—a space accessible only to her son or the guests she personally summoned.

Noctavian stood before his mother, who appeared fatigued, drained, and adjusting to the change of energy in her core. She remained seated behind her bureau, still dressed in the riding attire she had on when the battle had commenced. For once, her hair was unbound, and her bloodshot eyes betrayed an unreasonable level of concern for her son.

"Mother," Noctavian began, his voice carrying a tone of authority, "you should return to your manor and rest with the rest of the royal family. You need to gather your strength."

"I will, Noctavian," she replied softly, "But only once our business here is concluded."

"…He's here," Noctavian said, his sharp eyes trained on the open door.

Adela found it rather amusing how Egon's uncanny ability to move silently eluded her but not her son. The power somehow felt more balanced with Noctavian acting as the intermediary between them.

He entered the study in a disheveled state, his eyes taking in the changes in the place that he once knew, back to being a sanctuary for one person only instead of a meeting place for many.

The only thing absent from Egon's battle-worn appearance was the absence of his bow and arrows. He looked directly at his son, his eyes scanning Noctavian from head to toe, a fleeting sense of relief flickering across his steely, dark eyes before he shifted his attention to Adela.

Egon's demeanor projected an exaggerated air of dominance over Adela. But beneath this facade, a concealed fear and profound worry for her lurked, which Noctavian was only just beginning to witness.

The Crown Prince didn't appreciate this at all.

Even if Egon was under the mistaken impression that Adela was no longer his wife, he still claimed a stake in her well-being, a privilege that Noctavian believed the man no longer deserved.

Adela was about to draw a weary breath to initiate her investigation when Egon's deep, commanding voice filled the room.

"What you did with your healing magic back there, don't ever do it again," He warned, his eyes shifting in and out of their red hue.

Adela swallowed the urge to scoff. As if that old trick could still inspire any fear in her!

The Archduchess managed to maintain an empty, contemplative gaze, considering whether to remind Egon that he was in her study to provide answers, not the other way around. However, before she could respond, Noctavian assumed control of the conversation.

"Why wouldn't she use her abilities when she must?" 

Egon's brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, seemingly caught off guard by the counterintuitive question.

"She was left defenseless, like a baby sheep beneath the birds of prey."

Noctavian's chin rose as he spoke sternly. "Her Excellency belongs to the House of Falcons. Mind how you address her, especially when making moot points."

Egon crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow in response. "So she wasn't defenseless down there?" Understanding gradually dawned on him, his features darkening. "...I see what you mean. These attacks, they're not targeting her, are they?"

The truth in Egon's words struck Adela with unexpected force. In seven long years of war and assassination attempts, warlocks had never once posed a direct threat to her safety.

In a single word, the warlocks' protection of her was repugnant.

"Has anyone ever pointed out that you have a knack for fixating on the most inconsequential details?" Noctavian skillfully preserved his mother's cherished pride. "She wasn't left defenseless because I, Noctavian de Lanark, was right by her side."

The Crown Prince's demeanor shifted to one of layered sarcasm, his big brown eyes feigning innocence as he continued, "The only one left defenseless on that field was you, since you weren't graced with the blessing of the Saintess."

"Don't call her that," Egon grumbled darkly.

"Saintess?…Saintess! Saintess! Saintess!" Noctavian repeated childishly.

Though she had no inclination to laugh at all, a brief giggle escaped Adela, for it was one of those precious moments when her Noctavian truly acted like a seven-year-old boy.

Watching the sheer delight on Noctavian's face as he beheld his mother's laughter, Egon felt a warm sensation in his chest that momentarily tickled him. In all his years, he had never witnessed a more beautiful sight than the one before him at that moment.

Unaware of Egon's sentiment, Adela casually brushed away a few tears with the side of her forefinger. Her genuine amusement persisted, even in the midst of the challenging circumstances they found themselves in. But Noctavian's smile faded as Egon rubbed his nose and offered a small, genuine smile of his own.

The arrogant Beast's gaze resumed its seriousness as it shifted to focus on Noctavian's wristband. "I gather that you are a Healer as well?"

"I am everything the prophecy states about the awaited heir, and then some more." 

A fleeting look of pride passed across Egon's face before he shot an angry glare in Adela's direction.  "I wish to speak with you, alone."

"You shall hear from both of us before that, My Lord," she asserted.

"What you did back there, breaching the shield," Noctavian took over the conversation again, sensing that his mother was on the verge of nodding off. "Explain your actions to Her Excellency."

"That shield wouldn't have held those witches off for long," Egon replied, stating what Noctavian already knew.

Adela's eyes met her son's who acknowledged her silent question with a nod.

It was clear that if the shield was going to give in, it was better for humans to be the ones to dismantle it for reasons related to the morale of both, the knights and the civilians.

"I see now," she mused.

Egon's actions had shifted them from a vulnerable position to one of strength during that day's battle. However, neither did he seek recognition, nor did Adela feel inclined to offer it. In the end, the man acted on his own whims, devoid of pleasantries or gratitude.

"…Their target is Sasha," Adela added as an afterthought. "She shouldn't have gone out... I implore you to reason with them, My Lord."

Exasperation colored Egon's brown eyes.

"You were the one who thought about using Sasha as bait to lure the warlocks down, weren't you?" Noctavian murmured, sharing the theory he had deduced on the battlefield, already aware of Egon's telepathic abilities.

Initial shock on Egon's face quickly transformed into an expression of acute interest. "Are you impressed?" He inquired, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

Noctavian's eyes mirrored Kaiser's icy stare but fell short in capturing the same cold intensity with the warmth of his own brown gaze.

"No. I don't find the strategy of caveman hunters impressive. Using bait for prey lacks strategic complexity and noble sophistication." The Crown Prince stated heartlessly. 

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