Soren couldn't remember what happened after the extreme pain hit him in the garden, and even now, as his eyes opened, he realized he was already in the empress's bedroom. He could still feel the lingering pain in his body, the most painful sensation running from his throat to his chest and settling in his stomach, which felt like it was being squeezed from the inside.
He groaned and massaged his forehead. He lifted his hand, and Soren's eyes opened wide when he saw golden lines around his whole hand. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and saw the gold lines converging on his stomach.
"What is this…"
He had a hard time getting up from bed with the little strength he had left. Soren had never experienced such extreme pain before. Every muscle in his body seemed to scream in protest as he struggled to move.
"Don't move…"
A pale, trembling hand touched Soren's arm, pressing gently on his shoulder, a movement that, though gentle, possessed enough strength to force him back onto the pillow. The deep, commanding voice he'd heard a few times that day made him turn his head. There was Lucian, sitting beside his bed.
He wasn't wearing his ceremonial robes anymore, they had been replaced by a plain white simple tunic of linen, like a priest's. Without his cloak and all his royal regalia, Lucian even looked smaller and weaker. His body was nothing like Soren's. Large and muscular, the man's frame was slender. But you could still feel him in the room, especially with that jasmine scent.
"Don't touch me..." Soren reacted quickly.
That wasn't what he meant to say, but he couldn't think straight, and his reactions were faster than his brain could process things. Soren's hand brushed Lucian's aside, and he felt a sharp pain shoot through his entire arm. Even the tiniest touch made every muscle ache, and his voice rose slightly, making his throat feel like it was being roughly sliced open.
But he didn't want Lucian to see how helpless he was now.
"You have a fever..." Lucian piped up again, his deep voice sounding a bit softer, and he was still trembling like a puppy in the front of a wild beast. "Malakor said that after the ritual, you'll probably get a fever from all the changes going on in your body. During this time, the womb makes your body and its cells get used to the new conditions, which can make you feel a bit uncomfortable." Lucian kept going as he picked up the basin and put it on his lap. It was filled with cold water, and a damp cloth was folded over the edge.
Lucian took the cloth, put it in the water, and then gently squeezed it out. Just as Lucian was about to put the towel on Soren's forehead, the man quickly swatted away Lucian's pale hand. They were both pretty surprised by what had just happened, especially since Soren's hand had also knocked over the basin, causing water to spill onto the floor.
"Ah- oh- It's okay, I'll clean it up..." Lucian said, stepping away from the bed, opening the large wooden wardrobe, and taking out some fabric.
"Stop it…" Soren's voice was still so weak he was struggling to sit up on the bed, trying to show the king that he was a strong knight commander. But what could he do? His hands couldn't even support his own body at this point.
The pale king lifted his head and their eyes met in the dim light of the room. He was crouching, holding a piece of cloth he'd pulled from the wooden wardrobe earlier.
"But the water's already soaked through the carpet, so it's going to start smelling because it's still winter. And-"
Soren raised his hand, cutting Lucian off.
"I'm not sure what you learned while you were in church, but all the fabric in that closet is worth enough to feed an average family comfortably for several months. Mrs. Aethel would be so mad if she found out you were using it to mop the dirty floor. I think that's just common courtesy for someone in the royal family."
Lucian stopped in his tracks when he heard Soren say that, and hurriedly gathered up all the dropped fabrics and put them back in the closet. Soren watched the young king closely, he really didn't look like he belonged in the royal court.
"Give a quick call to the maids and have them tidy up." Said Soren, he didn't even feel like sitting on the mattress anymore. It wasn't just his body that hurt, or his stomach, but his head too, all because of that weak king.
"I... I'll be back.."
"No, please.."
Soren's words made Lucian stop mid-stride and turn around. Soren covered his face with his hands as he lay on his back on the bed.
"There's no need to come back to this room..."
"Your Majesty..."
"Leave me alone. I don't want to see you."
Lucian stood there in silence for a moment. The heavy silence in the room was overwhelming. Soren closed his eyes, lying pretty much helpless on the bed while the new king glared at him from the foot of the bed, standing as still as a mannequin.
"Thomas will be at the door, and so will Mrs. Aethel." The voice was so soft and deep that it left Soren feeling a mix of emotions, he could tell Lucian's voice had an unusual tone. "If the pain's really intense, you can try using the oil that-"
"I don't need anything or anyone—just go away." Soren muttered, interrupting what Lucian was about to say.
Lucian was about to leave Soren, but then he paused for a second and looked back at Soren, who had now buried half his face under the fur blanket that had been covering his body the whole time.
"Your Majesty, what you're doing now isn't something that should damage your reputation as a knight commander. Carrying and giving birth to a child is not a sign of weakness, it's a sign of bravery and strength. You'll probably feel some pain as your body adjusts to the new organ, but it'll fade within a day. All the strength you've built up over the years for battle is now focused on the new womb growing inside you, to protect the new life that will come. Besides..." There is a pause in that sentence, "You're doing this to save your younger sister, too. You made a deal, Your Majesty. Do you think the price you'll have to pay will be lower than your own pride?"
The door closed with a thud, and Soren felt a sudden silence wash over him. Those words were so cold, and yet they were true. Soren couldn't deny them. He'd given up everything and obeyed the kingdom's command to become a bearer because he'd been chosen by the Mother Tree, but he didn't just come for no reason. He had traded that for Mordessa's very breath.
So his younger sister can recover and get back to her old self.
Soren was still lying on the bed, staring at the dimly lit ceiling of the room, light coming in from a single light source. The room was warm, but he could feel a chill at the tips of his toes. He lifted his hand, looking at all the golden lines that now ran across his body and came together at his lower abdomen.
He turned and saw his sword, sheathed neatly next to the bed. It was still wrapped in its beautiful scabbard, one his mother had sewn herself as a birthday gift four years ago. He was the son of a marquis, so he'd loved swordsmanship since he was a kid. He wanted to become a knight, so he studied swordsmanship and horsemanship from a young age.
He was set on protecting his homeland, Dreadmoor. He loved Dreadmoor, where his family and people lived in peace. Even though Dreadmoor had a much longer winter than other regions in Arboris, he loved it dearly.
He achieved all his dreams at once, but the misery Mordessa was experiencing put an end to all his ambitions. He and his parents were much more careful from then on. They spent their whole lives trying to heal Mordessa. He wanted to get stronger so he could protect her.
His hand reached for the sword, and he was trembling. His fingers brushed against the sword, and he gripped it tightly, but when he tried to lift it, his body couldn't manage it. The sword dropped with a loud noise, CLANG.
Soren jolted, his head snapping back.
The door swung open, and Soren could tell that a bunch of people were rushing in after hearing the noise. They surrounded Soren, who was now howling in pain. He grabbed his stomach and let out a loud yell.
In his feverish body, in his hot, closed eyes, inside his head, Mordessa's face appeared. He remembered how his younger sister had grown weaker and weaker, her breath ragged and heavy, and her lungs gradually turning to crystal.
Soren was in a dream state as the servants and doctors started to treat him. He smelled jasmine, which he recognized. He knew the scent didn't come from his bedroom, it came from Lucian. For some reason, Soren didn't notice the young king's presence. The scent probably came from him—after that ritual, they had formed a bond.
Soren smelled like Lucian, the man had marked him.
And that night, Soren Vane Delve cried himself to sleep. It wasn't because of the pain he felt all over his body, but because he realized that everything had changed. He wasn't a knight commander anymore, and he wasn't a Vane Delve who protected the people of Dreadmoor and went to war. He was "Queen" Arboris of the Kingdom of Veridian, Lucian Sol Veridian's partner, and the bearer to the heir for the kingdom.