The mana lake looked less like water and more like liquid moonlight had been trapped and chilled. It threw violent, silver shadows across the glass table. On that table sat food—luxuries the prince couldn't even name, glowing softly under the half-light.
Lysandra flowed past him, all predatory grace and controlled power. With only them, the air was thick, hanging between solemn tradition and the violence of yesterday.
"Take your place," she ordered, not looking at him, positioning herself directly opposite. "Eat. And tell me why you are still breathing."
Joshua yanked his chair back. The scrape of wood on stone was offensively loud in the quiet sanctuary. She watched him with those same crimson depths that had intended to kill him only one day prior.
"Stubbornness," he grunted, reaching for something that looked suspiciously like bread. "And apparently, the sheer audacity to not die."
Lysandra's lips drew into a dangerous smear of a smile. "Audacity doesn't deflect a mana blade that should have liquefied your heart, Joshua. Stop lying. I have zero patience for human pleasantries tonight."
The bread tasted like perfection, but Joshua's gut churned too violently to appreciate it. She demanded the truth… but how much truth was a death sentence?
Veyla said honesty mattered here. But showing the whole hand is suicide.
"I'm not lying," he managed. "I just don't fully get the mechanics of it yet."
"Then try to make me understand." She leaned across the table. "You survived ten direct strikes. That isn't normal for a human. I need a reason."
Joshua placed the bread down hard, never breaking eye contact.
"I'll give you the reason," he said quietly. "But I need your word it stays locked here. No reports to your father. No whispers spread in the court."
Her eyes narrowed, turning glacial. "You are in no place to make demands of me."
"Maybe not. But you kept me alive for more than cheap entertainment." He held the gaze. "That tells me this matters to you more than the protocol."
Her fingers tightened around the wine glass until he heard a faint groan of stressed crystal. Then, she released the tension. "I accept your terms, Prince. Your secrets die here."
Joshua didn't wait to invite pause. He pressed his thumb hard against the table's sharp corner, drawing a bead of blood.
"Watch." He held his hand elevated, steady.
[HEMOKESIS- CAST]
[VITALITY - 96.8% (Residual Injuries)]
[Blood magic will become unavailable below 20% Vitality.]
The scarlet droplet lifted, separating from his skin. It hung suspended, utterly defying gravity between them. With a thought, he spun it slowly, watching its inertia, before drawing it back to seal the small cut.
Lysandra went utterly still.
"What element is that?" It was a breath, barely audible.
"Blood, I think. It surfaced during our fight."
The thin stem of the wine glass cracked audibly in her fist as she shot to her feet, pacing the space around the table like a trapped predator.
"That's impossible," she hissed. "Blood magic is folklore. Forbidden research. How long have you been capable of this?"
"It happened during the fight. Maybe because of it."
He felt the heat radiate off her, the barely contained energy that made the air itself vibrate.
"Show me again. Bigger."
This time, Joshua cut deeper into his palm.
[HEMOKESIS- CAST]
[VITALITY - 96.2% (Residual Injuries)]
Three drops rose instantly, floating in a mathematically perfect triangle.
Lysandra inhaled sharply, a noise of pure shock. "Do you even grasp what you're holding?"
"No. I don't."
"It means you are more volatile than any demon in this realm." Her voice was tight, controlled, but the tremor was there. "Mana flows through blood. If you can control it directly—"
"Then what?"
"Then you can potentially drain or control anyone's mana. Including mine."
The blood shapes dissolved as Joshua's concentration broke. "I... what?"
"At its theoretical limit, blood magic stops a heart with a thought. It can siphon an enemy's entire reserve and turn it toxic. You're weaponizing pure life force, Joshua. It's a terrifying power."
"Terrifying for whom?"
"Everyone. Including yourself, if you slip up."
He stared at the healing cut in his palm. "Well. That's a cheerful assessment."
For the first time since he arrived, Lysandra threw her head back and laughed—a sharp, genuine sound. "You truly don't see it, do you? What you've awakened could shatter this entire kingdom."
"Then why not kill me here? You have chances to Princess."
"I'm keeping you alive because you are compelling. The magic is… a valuable complication."
But not unwanted, he noted, watching the frantic drumming of her fingers against the glass. She's already calculating something.
"Tell me your drive," she demanded, cutting straight to the core. "Why stand up when the world demands you crawl? I saw your raw pride when we fought."
Joshua focused on the ghosts of his memories: Freyna's desperate face. The two demon children bowing in terror-turned-gratitude. Lysandra, choosing this dangerous conversation over execution.
"People who deserve better than what they get," he said, the words feeling solid and true. "The unfortunate souls who need someone to stand when everyone else runs."
"Even if those unfortunates are demons?"
"Even then."
Silence stretched, heavy with unspoken implications.
"The lake," she announced, standing and kicking off her heels with practiced disregard. "You're still damaged from yesterday. The water will accelerate healing. Tradition states that we must enter together."
Joshua's pulse quickened as he tracked her movement. She stripped with the detached efficiency of a soldier removing gear, revealing only dark undergarments. Embarrassment was clearly an alien concept to her.
"Tradition has very specific needs, apparently," he observed, following her lead and shedding his own clothes, the blood rushing to his head.
"It exists for a reason, even if I don't know all of them."
They stepped into the warm water. The immediate relief was a physical shock. The knife-pain in his ribs dulled instantly. The deep, bruised ache in his muscles softened.
Joshua let out a shuddering sigh and slumped against the wet stone edge.
Lysandra moved deeper until the water grazed her chest. Joshua worked hard to keep his gaze fixed on the moonlight across her shoulders rather than the curves beneath the surface. She was dangerously beautiful.
"Your thoughts are loud," she noted, not turning.
"Sorry. Processing the whole 'I might be a walking arcane weapon' revelation."
"Mm." She turned, and he realized how horribly close they had drifted—close enough to see the faint freckles dusting her nose, the slight parting of her lips when she focused. Close enough to feel lethal.
Lysandra seemed to register it simultaneously and pulled back, the spell shattering.
"We rest now," she managed, her voice regaining its sharp edge.
---
The hollowed cabin next to the Tree was spartan: two bedrolls side-by-side, one small table.
"We sleep here. Together. The final test of the Veil of Concord."
"A test of trust, then."
"Precisely. Can you sleep with your back exposed to the woman who tried to kill you yesterday?"
Joshua considered, then settled onto his mat without fuss. "Can you sleep next to a man who might—theoretically—stop your heart with a thought?"
"Theoretically." She lay down beside him, close enough he could feel the heat of her body. "But if you try, I'll have your head off before the thought finishes."
"Noted."
Long silence. Just the sound of breathing.
"Joshua," she murmured, low in the dark.
"Yeah?"
"Those children you saved back in the capital. Why?"
"So you heard about that…" He paused thinking for a moment. They needed help."
"That is a useless answer, Prince."
He tilted his head just enough to catch her profile in the thin moonlight from the window. "Because I know what it feels like to need help and have the world ignore you."
Another silence followed, this time heavier, deeper.
"I see," she breathed.
Fatigue slammed into him. The mana lake's restoration made his already exhausted body realize just how tired it was. His breathing slowed.
"Lysandra?"
"Mm?"
"Thanks for not killing me today."
A soft sound, perhaps a stifled chuckle. "The day isn't over."
No threat in it.
Joshua slipped into darkness, knowing the most lethal woman in the Demon Realm was settling down next to him. When his breathing evened into genuine rest, Lysandra finally let her own shoulders drop.
He just fell asleep next to me. After everything. Strange, impossible man.
For the first time in years, the tension between her shoulder blades eased as she slept beside someone who warranted no immediate guard.
The ancient magic of the Hollowed Tree hummed in quiet approval.