He slept the black and dreamless sleep of the dead.
When his head had touched the pillow, it had been full night. He opened his eyes not a minute later to the evening sun pouring in through his bedroom window. He had not moved from the sprawling position that he had first landed in.
His mouth was drier than Leide. He rolled onto his back and glanced toward his bedside table for any hint of a glass of water set out for him. A hand floated into view, holding just such a glass. A lovely hand. Though not, perhaps, so lovely as the woman it was attached to.
He smiled stupidly up at Crea. "Good morning."
"I'm afraid you've missed that by a day and a half," she said.
Regis propped himself up on one elbow and took the glass of water. He had drained nearly all of it before her words sank in.
"A day and a half?"
"Yes. You slept through a whole day and then some. After everything, I admit I was worried—"
"Sylva?"
Her smile wilted around the edges. "She hasn't woken up, and I'm afraid there's little more I can tell you. Noctis is sulking because Lunafreya is busy at her mother's side, Ravus has been frequently absent as well, and Weskham has stopped in a few times to say there's been no visible improvement."
But she was alive. Regis dropped back onto his pillows and stared at the ceiling overhead until Crea sat down on the edge of his bed and gathered up his hand in hers.
"I'm glad you're awake."
He squeezed her fingers and offered her a smile. "I am glad to wake to you."
She leaned closer and kissed him so gently that he couldn't help but crave more.
"It's only been two days and I'm already tired of ruling a kingdom," she said.
"Is that all you want me awake for?"
"Mm. At least sixty percent of it."
"And the other forty?"
"Well it's nicer to kiss you if you kiss me back." And she did so to illustrate her point.
He would accept forty percent worth of that.
She did not, however, give him long to appreciate it.
"As much as I would like to stay here forever, or else crawl in with you, I told Noct and Reina that I would let them know as soon as you woke," she said. "I'm sure you'll want to see them as well."
He did, without a doubt. Though he would have been hard pressed to choose, at that precise moment, whether he would have preferred to see his children immediately or go on kissing Crea for but a little while longer. Thankfully, she did not ask him to make that choice. Already she had made her mind up for him.
"I'll go tell them."
"A moment," Regis said. "It occurs to me that, having slept for two days and—before that—having hiked to and from the meteor, I am likely in a poor state to receive guests. How much a mess do I look?"
"No more than normal," Crea said.
He gave her a flat stare. "I will be sure to pass your comment on to Weskham."
He had vague memories of having managed to wipe away most of the soot—largely with Crea's help—before falling into bed, but it had been far from a proper shower.
"You may tell them I will see them in thirty minutes." He hauled himself out of bed. She had managed to pull his soiled clothes off of him, though he could not recall if that had happened before or after he had fallen asleep. "That shall give me time to make myself somewhat presentable."
Nevertheless, she followed him as he stepped into the bathroom to take a look at himself in the mirror.
The first thing he noticed was the scar. A pale pink line of smooth skin twisting around his right eye. He lifted one hand to trace it.
"Weskham said it was from the ring." Crea came to stand beside him, expression grave. "He said when you were keeping Sylva alive, there was so much power pouring through you that it cracked your skin and bled out."
He dropped his eyes to his hands and bare arms, where he had watched the cracks heal and mend in his own skin. Every hint of the pale white lines had faded. That was one blessing at least. But if only one spot had been deep enough to scar, did it truly have to be across his face? He was not a vain man, but appearance was an essential part of his position as king.
"And no one thought to tell me?" He asked.
"I assumed you knew when I first saw you. Anyway, it seemed insignificant next to everything else going on…"
Clarus should have told him, at least.
But no. Crea was right. In the midst of everything else, a scar was inconsequential.
He leaned forward to look at it more closely in the mirror, tracing the line around his eye with one finger. Before his father had died, he had developed a similar mark up the left side of his neck. A lifetime of using the ring and upholding the Wall took its toll in both great and subtle ways.
Regis sighed. "Likely I would have had one before the end in any case, if the Wall had not come down."
Crea shifted near enough to take his hand and meet his gaze in the mirror. "It doesn't change how handsome you are, if that's what you're worried about."
He turned to look at her and, despite all, a smile tugged at his lips. Most of all he was concerned that it would change perceptions of him—hers and others. But he could see the earnest admiration on her face as she reached up to touch the scar.
"You saved her life," Crea said. "If anything, you should wear that proudly."
She was forced to stand on her toes to kiss him.
"Go get cleaned up," she said. "I'll tell the twins you're awake."
"Wait—Crea—" Regis caught her hand before she could step too far away. "Does Reina know of this?"
Noctis, at least, would. He had been on the Citadel steps when Regis had arrived. He wanted little to shock his daughter with a newly scarred face.
"She's seen you," Crea said. "She came in here not long after you collapsed on the bed."
"I see." He wasn't sure whether to be grateful for that. He released Crea's hand and she moved once more for the door.
"Send Avun to me," he said, before she was out of sight. "Or Weskham. Whoever is available. I could do with a clean suit and a breakfast tray."
"It's nearly dinner time, Regis."
"A dinner tray, then."
She smiled and shook her head. "I'll see what I can do."
And she was gone, leaving him to step into the shower and wash away the soot and sweat and saltwater. He discovered numerous half-healed cuts across his hands and forearms along with several bruises as he did so. He had no recollection of having collected them. But stone and ice had been flying indiscriminately through the air. He must have been hit more than once without taking note.
When he emerged, it was to find a fresh suit laid out for him. Wes appeared not long after to make him look presentable and did an extraordinary job of accomplishing that with so little to work with. Whatever Crea had said, he did not look a mess after his steward had finished with him. He wiped a patch of the mirror clear of fog and peered at his now-clean face. A few cuts mirroring those he had found on his hands and arms littered his face, including a prominent one across his cheek. He had been so preoccupied by the scar that he had hardly noticed before. Well. There was nothing for it. If Reina and Noctis had already seen the worst of it.
He was tempted to fall back into bed—even this short time upright had reminded him that he was far from fully recovered—but Wes had already ordered servants to strip the sheets and they had not yet been replaced. After dinner, perhaps.
In his private lounge, he found that dinner had indeed been laid out of him and sent up on a tray. After two days abed, he might have eaten an entire garula, but he would make do with the steak and salad for now.
Once he had dined and was seated in his usual armchair with a fire in the hearth and a glass of wine within reach, Weskham moved for the door.
"Shall I tell them you're ready to see them?" He asked.
Regis motioned for him to do so and but a minute later both his children had streamed into the room.
"Father!" Reina near flung herself upon him, forcing him to catch her and pull her into his lap to hug her.
Noctis was more restrained.
"Hey Dad." He dropped onto the couch across from them and began picking through the fruit bowl on the coffee table. "Feeling better?"
Most anything would have been an improvement from the way he had felt when Noctis had last seen him.
"Much better," Regis said. "And better still for seeing both of you."
They sat in silence. Noctis peeled an orange and left little bits of it on the coffee table. If he was going to eat nonstop, he could have chosen worse snacks.
It seemed much too long since the three of them had simply sat together. Though the betrothal ceremony had been only a few days ago and they must have spent plenty of time assembled in the days leading up to it. Though not, perhaps, in this fashion.
"I must apologize for how the ceremony ended," Regis said. At the time, the betrothal had been the furthest thing from his mind. But it had never finished. After all that excitement, she was not yet betrothed. "Perhaps it can be rescheduled."
"Oh." She looked down at her hands and twisted her fingers together. "Yes. Maybe."
Regis raised his eyebrows. "Unless you would prefer it was not?"
She did not meet his gaze. "I don't know."
"Has something happened between you and Ravus?" Regis asked.
She looked up. "No, it isn't that. He's been very kind—but of course very worried since his mother… But no. I… I still like him."
Noctis turned to lay sideways across the couch, throwing his legs over one arm. "More like something happened with Ignis."
"Ignis?" Regis asked.
Reina's cheeks tinged pink and she glanced away from him.
"What have I missed?" Regis looked from Reina to Noctis and back.
"Ignis said he loves her and doesn't want her to marry Ravus," Noctis said.
"He did not!" Reina, now properly red-faced, glared at her twin. "And it was just a betrothal!"
"Yeah, but that means you'll marry him."
"Well not right now! Maybe when we're older, but…" she glanced at Regis, true distress showing through embarrassment and outrage. "But I would have to, I guess, if we were betrothed…"
Regis cleared his throat. "Reina. Why don't you tell me what happened? Properly."
He shot Noctis a warning glare. Noctis, far from repentant, brushed his orange peels into a pile and picked up an apple.
Reina rubbed her cheeks. "Ignis did talk to me. But he didn't say the L word or anything like that, we just talked and some of it was about the betrothal…"
"And what did he say?" Regis prompted.
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at a spot on the floor beneath the coffee table, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. "We talked about how we're good friends but he was sad that we haven't spent as much time together ever since Ravus came to live with us. And he said sometimes you don't understand how much you enjoy someone's company until it's gone. He said that if what I really wanted was to be betrothed to Ravus then he would always be a friend and a brother to me... " She tucked her chin and her voice went small and soft. "But that maybe… if I wasn't quite sure… he might like to be more than just a friend and a brother."
Regis suppressed a smile. So Ignis had at last found words to put to the feelings he had been sitting on for months. And in so doing had succeeded where Regis had failed time and again: in making Reina think twice about her future and what this betrothal might mean for her.
He smoothed her hair back, waiting for her to look up at him, which she did in time.
"I see," he said. "And so you have thought that perhaps you are not quite sure after all?"
She nodded, eyes filling with tears. "Does that make me a bad person?"
"No, my dear." Regis brushed the tears away as soon as they fell. "It makes you a very grown-up person, who understands that a lifetime is a very long time, that people change a great deal between twelve and twenty, and that, perhaps, she should consider carefully more than just first feelings when making choices that will last."
She smiled shakily, though it wavered and faltered entirely in the next moment. "Do you think Ravus will be upset if I don't want to have a betrothal?"
"No. I think he will understand."
Perhaps he would even feel some measure of relief. Doubtless, his own feelings toward Reina were affectionate, but the adoration of a twelve year old to an eighteen year old was not the same as romantic attachment. There was no denying that his eagerness to maintain the betrothal had been pressured from all sides. Not least of which was a desire to remain in Lucis and out of his mother's reach.
"In any case, the absence of a betrothal will not prevent you from being friends with Ravus, nor from becoming engaged in the future, should you both come to that decision at a later time," Regis said.
This seemed to banish the last of her fears, for the smile that blossomed this time was true and unfailing. She leaned against him, putting her chin on his chest and staring up at him.
"I hope someday someone will love me as much as you love Miss Crea."
"Tch. Yeah right. As if anyone would love you," Noctis said.
She threw a shoe at him.
