As soon as Lowell came to and open his eyes, the first thing he saw was Felix's face, filled with worry. There was something almost mournful in his seriousness that made Lowell let out a weak laugh. Maybe it was because he had just seen the young jaguar in his dream, but the image of the two overlapped in his mind.
Adorable, really.
Lowell looked at Felix in silence for a while. The despair in his dark eyes was slowly fading, and something like a flicker of hope began to take it's place. Even though Felix wasn't crying or praying, Lowell could tell he'd been making a desperate, silent wish.
It was Felix who called me back.
Lowell slowly sat up and look around. The room was unfamiliar—lavish, but with no signs of being lived in. The expensive furnishings were neatly arrange, but lacked any trace of use. That made sense; this was likely one of the guest rooms used only when nobles like Felix came in from distant territories for the Blessing Month.
"How long was I out?"
Lowell felt oddly self-conscious asking such a cliche line that sounded like it belonged in a novel.
"Two days."
Two days, not half a day. Lowell fell silent, stunned by Felix's response. No wonder he looked so worried.
"I thought you were going to die. Again. Because of me."
Felix seemed unable to shake his guilt, repeatedly it like a broken record. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was still wearing the same clothes from the banquet. Lowell remembered asking him not to leave, and it seemed Felix had stayed at his side without budging. He hadn't even let go of Lowell's hands clutching it like a lifeline. Lowell stared at their tightly entwined fingers, then finally spoke.
"I got hurt because of the guy who attacked me. Why would you blame yourself?"
"I broke our contract. I said I'd protect you."
Lowell glanced at Felix's other hand. He had clenched his fist so tightly that blood had dried and crusted over. When Lowell shifted slightly, he saw the floor stained with blood as well.
Why did the priest leave Felix in that state?
A strange tightness welled in his chest. Ordinary people wouldn't feel guilty about breaking a contract they'd been forced into days ago. But Felix was clinging to a bit of warmth he'd only just experienced—and he didn't even realize it. Or maybe he did realize, dimly, but pretended not to, out of fear that expecting anything would only lead to being abandoned.
So he used the contract as an excuse. He told himself this turmoil was because he failed to uphold a promise, rationalizing his pain. Lowell followed the logic easily. Rather than forcing Felix to confront that truths he decided to start by easing the guilt.
"If it weren't for you, I would've been stabbed in the stomach. That would've been fatal."
The wound had vanished completely, but the injury itself had been real. His breath caught just from recalling it. Lowell steadied himself and gently stroked Felix's hand.
"Thank you. You saved my life, Your Grace."
His clear blue eyes met Felix's black ones. He'd received plenty of blame and hatred before—but genuine gratitude was rare. Felix looked away, at loss for words. Then he suddenly changed the subject.
"The man who attacked you is going to be executed. Apparently he had private soldiers with him, and since he didn't report it, he can't avoid punishment."
Lowell gave a faint, bitter smile. It felt like everything has unfolded exactly as expected.
Did they discover signs of treason first, or was it the stabbing that came first?
Even as he asked himself that question, he already knew the answer.
They probably promised to spare his wife or child if he followed orders. Not that the bike Emperor would actually keep such a promise. Must've been like clutching at straws.
Lowell thought back to the Emperor's usual tactics in the novel. Hurting others in desperation—even when forced—was revolting. So was the Emperor, who exploited such weakness.
"A dangerous man, indeed."
Whether or not Felix understood the Emperor's intentions, Lowell didn't elaborate. He didn't want to burden him with unnecessary stress—or reveal just how much he already knew.
"You don't seem surprised. Or pleased. The man who tried to kill you is being executed."
"From the sound of it, it wasn't entirely his decision to stab me."
Lowell wasn't interested in things that were already out of his hands.
"Is that so?"
The bed creaked softly as Felix sat down beside him. Their bodies drew closer, and a gentle warmth hung between them. The smoky apple scent of Felix's unrestrained pheromones laced the hair. Lowell instinctively shifted back, but the bed's headboard blocked his retreat.
"Still...the Blessing Month's events must've been ruined because of me."
To escape the sticky heat lingering between them, Lowell changed the subject. He felt compassion for Felix, but that didn't mean he was ready to respond to his affections.
"The banquet went on like nothing happened. Vomit-worthy nobles don't let anything disrupt their routine."
Despite being a noble himself, Felix sounded utterly disgusted. The slight easing of his pheromones helped Lowell relax, and he responded gently.
"No, I mean Your Grace's Blessing Month was ruined because you stayed to look after me. Even if it wasn't fun, I wish it hadn't been unpleasant."