Chapitre 470: Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 235. The Loser's Pain
Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 235. The Loser's Pain
The grand festivities had finally come to an end, the opulent ballroom now gradually clearing as the guests bid their farewells and returned to their places and rooms. King Gervis gave the orders to his soldiers. Ilex was to be taken to his room, his wounds to be tended to by the royal doctor.
Within the corridors of the grand castle, the clattering of armored boots against the polished floors marked Ilex's subdued procession. Beside him walked Rose, her steps resolute. She went with them to give Ilex the antidote.
They reached Ilex's chamber. The royal doctor was already there, his experienced hands preparing the various tinctures and salves needed to mend the physical wounds that marred Ilex's body. Those were severe wounds. His flesh and skin were damaged. Those would leave permanent scars on his body.
A couple of hours later. The clock struck midnight. Rose emerged from Ilex's room, the heavy wooden door creaking slightly in her wake, she found Angel waiting.
"Did I make you wait too long?" she inquired, her words carrying a hint of concern.
"No, I'm also just finished cleaning up the mess. How's Ilex doing?" Angel's voice carried a casual note, a stark contrast to the weight of the evening's events that still lingered in the air.
"He's fine, his wounds aren't as bad as yours," Rose responded. Her steps were measured as she approached him.
Angel's gaze remained steady, his eyes fixed on her as she drew nearer. "King Gervis won't have the heart to hit Ilex too hard," he mused, his tone a reflection of both observation and prediction. "But I had to make sure that King Gervis punished him in front of everyone."
Rose's sigh was soft. "Angelus Raizel," she began, her voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and admiration, "everyone thinks of you as a cruel king. But in my opinion, you are too kind."
Angel's laughter danced through the air like an elusive melody. "I remember when I first brought you to Euphorion," he remarked, his tone playfully teasing, "you always insisted that I was cruel. Perhaps it was your heart already being ensnared that colored your perceptions."
Rose's lips curved into a fond smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling with the weight of her affection. Her arms found their way around Angel's neck, drawing him closer, her touch a testament to the bond they had woven amidst the tapestry of their experiences. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear. Her voice was a soft murmur, a secret meant only for his ears. "I'm not in love with you," she confessed, her words a gentle revelation, "I'm already madly in love with you."
Angel's arms wrapped around Rose's waist, drawing her in closer, their bodies pressed together in an embrace that seemed to encapsulate the breadth of their connection. His gaze, intense and unwavering, met hers, and for a moment, the grandeur of the world around them faded into insignificance. "Rose," he murmured, his voice carrying the undertones of longing, "if you continue to seduce me with your words and your presence, I'm afraid I won't be able to restrain myself."
Rose's laughter tinkled through the air, a musical note of mirth that added a touch of lightheartedness to the grandeur of their surroundings. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she playfully disentangled her arms from around Angel's neck, creating a brief but noticeable distance between them.
A knowing smile curved Rose's lips as she regarded Angel, her gaze reflecting both warmth and amusement. "This is not White Moon Castle," she teased gently, her words carrying the playful undertone of someone who knew her partner all too well. "I'd suggest you hold onto your patience until we reach our room."
Angel's expression shifted from the lightness of their previous interaction to a soft, affectionate gaze that conveyed his deep adoration for the woman by his side. He allowed himself to be pulled along by her gentle tugging, their steps falling into synchrony that mirrored their connection. As they walked together, Rose's fingers intertwined with Angel's, their hands finding a natural fit, as if they were always meant to be connected in this way.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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Power Stone 
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