The Prince, the Thief & the Artifact

Chapter 18: Broken Promise

Leon didn't remember the forest ground being this comfortable. Nor this soft. Nor this warm.

His mind slowly shed the cobwebs of unconsciousness. He peeled his eyes open.

The engraved white ceiling was familiar. It took him a second to realize he was in his bedroom in the castle.

The light coming through the windows and balcony doors painted the paneled walls a hundred shades of copper. Sunset.

Small movement by his side. He turned his head and eyed the small bundle of warmth pressed against him. His son's wide blue eyes stared back from a pale face. A rock the weight of a mountain lifted off Leon's heart.

"Hey, son," he croaked out.

Ari's eyes watered and he pressed his face against Leon's shoulder. Despite his aching bones, Leon hugged him, running his hand over Ari's precious head. Oh, how he'd missed him.

"I'm sorry, Ari. I'm so sorry."

Ari had watched his mother die. Having his father return unconscious and half dead must have been too much for him.

His little body shook with quiet sobs. Leon treasured these moments with him. Ever since Ria's death, Ari never uttered a word, and he rarely, if ever, showed his emotions. His silence and indifference had been driving Leon to insanity.

This display of affection was a welcome change, even if it was difficult to bear. At least he knew his son still cared about him.

"I'm sure he misses you."

Summer's words resonated in his head. She'd been right.

He was in the capital. He vaguely remembered the journey back. His last clear recollection was Summer's pale face after he had beaten that man to death.

He remembered perfectly how he woke up to the realization that someone was trying to remove the bushes concealing the shelter. He'd waited in silence, thinking he would probably die but would take them with him. Then Summer had drawn their attention away. She had saved his life, most likely more times than he could remember.

Ari suddenly froze. He drew away from him, rubbed his face with the sleeve of his dark tunic and sat up. Leon sighed. It was good while it lasted.

Leon's body was too heavy. Fortunately, a service bell sat right next to his pillow. The chime of the bell filled the room. A second later, Logan opened the door.

Leon's valet looked immaculately put together, as always. The lines of his blue uniform crisp, every strand of dark blond hair slicked in place. His face, however, was that of a man waiting on his mother's death bed.

He met Leon's gaze, and the relief in his eyes was palpable. His shoulders slumped. It only lasted for a moment before the drawn expression cleared up. He stood straight, regaining his familiar composure.

"Your highness." Logan bowed. He looked through the doorway to the servant awaiting orders. "Call for the physician, his highness has regained consciousness."

The servant scurried away. Leon tried sitting up. Every inch of his body was in pain.

"How long have I been out, Logan?" Leon asked as Logan rushed forward, fluffed his pillows and helped him sit up. He knew Leon didn't like being fussed over. But Leon sensed the man needed to do something. Logan had a habit of blaming himself for every ailment Leon suffered.

"Three days, your highness." Logan hovered after giving Leon water to drink.

"Three days," Leon murmured.