Ruler of Angels | The Royal Legacies Series

| 𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖈𝖎𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙 |

𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖈𝖎𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙 |𝖓| 𝖆 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆𝖓 𝖔𝖇𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖞 𝖚𝖓𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖉𝖊

By the time Felimid was willing, or well, the nurse knew he wouldn't hurt himself too badly by moving, he was up and out of his room.

It was small movements at first. The pain was still there, but it wasn't as bad as it originally was. The maester talked to him, he'd likely have a limp in his left leg, but he wasn't too worried about it. The man said he'd be able to do everything again, even his "work" without any troubles.

Felimid barely noticed he limped until someone pointed it out. It wasn't that obvious and he could easily force himself slightly to walk straighter.

The maester still wanted him to keep the bandages on him to keep from possible infection. It wasn't until a few days later, did he wander towards Vaeril's room.

He hesitated when he finally reached the door. His arm moved up to knock but he just couldn't seem to. With a sigh, he knocked on the door.

A familiar voice answers, "Come in."

Another sigh exits his mouth and he opens the door. He lets his body be seen before he closes the door. The king looks at him with bewilderment around his features, "Felimid?"

The mercenary chuckles, "I would hope so."

Vaeril laughs, "Come on in. Sit down."

Felimid shuts the door and wanders further into the room. The king notices his limp first off but says nothing about it, assuming he wouldn't want to talk about it.

It's an awkward silence for a moment, "Are you feeling any better?"

The king smiles, "I am. It's not as painful, thankfully. You? I see you're up and moving now."

The mercenary leans back in his seat and chuckles to himself. He notices the king's hair isn't straight like it usually is. It was more on the wavy side and looked like he hadn't had the time to take extreme care with it.

"I'm no longer in the danger of ripping stitches that could cause substantial blood loss."

The older one snorts, a surprising sound, "I would sure hope so you wouldn't put your life on the line to see me."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Vaeril almost blames the human's serious face on hallucinations. He doesn't say anything for a moment, rather lost for words.

"I suppose I should thank you..."

Felimid raises an eyebrow, "For what?"

"Must I explain it?"

The mercenary looks at him, "For helping."

"What was I to do? Let you die? Or get yourself injured?"

Vaeril sighs, "Still. I remember the way you flew and hit the wall..."

"And I'm alive."

"But what if you weren't!"

This is the first time he raises his voice in a normal setting. Felimid's eyes widen but they lower as he looks to his feet.

The king sighs once more, a hand, covered in bandages, goes to his nose and squeezes. Silence comes into the room once again.

"You know something?"

Vaeril takes his hand down, but keeps it near his face, "Hm?"

"I'd do it again."