The first rays of dawn slipped through the clinic window, painting golden lines on the wooden floor. On the cot, the young woman with violet hair blinked slowly. Her mind was a sea of fog until her gaze, still clouded, settled on the figure sitting beside her.
Alex was there, in a stiff-backed chair, arms crossed and eyes closed. He wasn't asleep; he was just resting, but in the soft morning light, with his serene profile and calm posture, he looked like a statue of some young god of repose.
The young woman watched him, and the last vestige of confusion in her eyes dissolved, replaced by reverential awe.
"Are you..." her voice was a hoarse whisper but full of emotion, "...my guardian angel?"
Alex opened one eye. Then the other. He frowned slightly, a gesture as habitual to him as breathing.
"No," he said, bluntly, and jerked his thumb toward the other corner of the room. "That's your guardian angel. The one who reduced everything to dust."
There, leaning against the wall with her arms also crossed, was Emi. She wore a tense smile, the kind she had when someone underestimated her power. But the young woman didn't even turn her head. Her large violet eyes, now bright with tears of relief and something else more intense, remained fixed on Alex.
"No..." whispered the girl, slowly shaking her head. "I remember. I remember a warm light... and a calm voice that told me everything would be alright. That... that was your voice."
Emi let out a sound between a snort and a stifled laugh.
"I was the light, genius," she murmured to herself. "He was just the... loudspeaker. With less volume."
Alex felt the onset of a headache.
"Alex. My name is Alex," he said, hoping that would end the conversation.
"Alex..." repeated the young woman, as if tasting a magic word. A weak but radiant smile lit up her face. "I'm Aria. Aria von Alaric. It is an honor..."
She tried to sit up to give a bow, an intrinsic gesture of her upbringing, but her body, weakened by captivity and residual magic, betrayed her enthusiasm. She wavered and leaned dangerously toward the edge of the bed.
Alex moved without thinking. In an instant, he was at her side, his arm around her back to support her firmly, his other hand gently grasping her arm.
"Easy," he said, his voice low and pragmatic as he helped her lie back down. "Your body has been through a lot. Don't force the courtesy."
To Alex, it was common sense. To Aria, it was an act of sublime chivalry. An intense blush flooded her pale cheeks. Her fingers clung slightly to the sleeve of his tunic.
"Sorry..." she murmured, but her gaze didn't leave his, hypnotized.
From the wall, Emi watched the scene with the expression of someone watching an absurdly badly written play.
"God, give me patience," she whispered, running a hand over her face. "I'm the protagonist. I saved the day. I should be getting the puppy-dog grateful looks. In what twisted chapter have I landed?"
The door opened at that moment, interrupting the awkward triangle. The healer entered, holding a parchment envelope sealed with red wax and the emblem of a rampant hawk. His expression was a mix of respect and concern.
"News from the Duchy," he announced in a formal voice. "His Grace, Duke Alaric, has been informed. He expresses his eternal gratitude for the rescue of his daughter, Lady Aria. He urgently requests that you escort her back to the Ducal Palace in the capital. As a token of his... appreciation, he offers a considerable reward."
Emi straightened up abruptly, her earlier irritation transforming into something sharper.
"A reward," she said, and the word sounded like an insult. "We didn't do this for gold. Or for favors from any duke."
But before the healer could respond, Aria's weak but clear voice filled the room.
"Please!"
Everyone looked at her. She had sat up again, this time with a determination that seemed to draw strength from the same adrenaline as her embarrassment.
"Please, Alex," she pleaded, addressing only him, completely ignoring Emi and the healer. She extended a trembling hand toward him. "My father... will be desperate. And I..." her voice broke, genuinely, "...I don't feel safe. Not without you."
The blow was so low, so perfectly executed, that even Alex looked at her with renewed interest. Not as a damsel, but as a player who had just made a masterful move.
It was then that Alex had an idea. A dangerous idea, a little mean, and tremendously satisfying after so many chapters of being dragged around.
"Agreed," he said, his calm voice cutting through the air like a knife.
"WHAT?!" Emi's shout made the jars on the shelves tremble. She stepped forward, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Have you had a brain cramp? Since when do you make decisions? I make the decisions! It's in the protagonist contract!"
Alex shrugged, and for the first time in a long while, a genuine, slightly mocking smile touched his lips.
"You broke the contract when you decided my destiny was to follow you blindly. Think of this as an... amendment. We accept. We'll go to the palace."
Aria let out a sigh of happiness so intense she almost fainted again, clinging to Alex's arm like a lifeline.
"Thank you! I knew it! You are my true angel!"
Emi was red. Not with shame, but with pure, bewildered fury. She looked at Alex, then at Aria hanging on his arm, then back at Alex. Her mouth opened and closed, searching for words that wouldn't come.
"This... this is mutiny," she finally managed to articulate. "A narrative coup d'état. I am the romantic interest here!"
"Seems you have competition," Alex replied serenely, enjoying every millimeter of his small revenge.
The preparations for departure were a whirlwind of silent tension. Aria, now with miraculous energy, followed Alex like a shadow, asking questions, offering him a cloak, completely ignoring Emi, who was packing her gear with the force of someone crushing imaginary skulls.
While Alex checked the supplies, Emi approached him, her voice a fierce whisper.
"What are you doing? Do you like it? Do you like her looking at you with those scared fawn eyes?"
Alex stowed a ration in his pack.
"It's not about liking. It's about, for once, I decide where this mess is heading. And the capital is as good a place for a mess as any."
"She's a spoiled brat who sees you as a new toy!"
"And you see me as a useful accessory," Alex retorted, finally looking her in the eye. "The difference is she at least says it with flowers."
Emi was left speechless, struck by the observation. Before she could respond, Aria appeared at his side, naturally slipping her arm under his.
"Ready to depart, Alex? My carriage awaits us."
It was a ducal carriage, black, lacquered, with the hawk engraved on the doors. A vehicle that screamed power and attention.
As he boarded, Alex turned toward Emi, who was climbing in grumpily behind them. The morning sun shone on the peaceful village they were leaving behind. But in the air, Alex could taste the change.
It wasn't just a trip to the capital.
It was a forced entry into a much bigger game. And now, for the first time, he had chosen the board.
Seated between the noblewoman who adored him and the heroine who wanted to strangle him, Alex knew one thing for certain:
The peace he so desperately longed for was, once again, light years away.