* * *
That’s when Lowell realized something was wrong.
His own blood was dripping onto the floor, mingling with Tony’s.
Though he had avoided a fatal injury, his side wasn’t exactly in safe condition.
“Young Lord Lowell! You need to stop the bleeding!”
Charis, nearby, shouted urgently.
He wanted nothing more than to treat Lowell immediately, but with enemies still running wild despite having taken the Count hostage, it wasn’t possible to administer proper first aid.
‘Am I in worse shape than I thought…?’
When the sword had pierced him, the pain had been excruciating, as though his limbs were twisting apart.
But as time passed, the pain dulled, and he thought he was alright.
Cautiously, Lowell pressed his trembling hand to his side—only for his palm to come away soaked in blood.
‘This isn’t right…’
His thoughts slowed, while his breathing quickened.
His blurry vision darkened until it swallowed him whole.
Lowell tried desperately to steady himself, determined not to lose consciousness, but even his sense of touch was slipping away.
Isolated in a void of darkness, a suffocating fear gripped him.
“Fel… Felix?”
In the vague, shapeless darkness, Lowell called out the name of the one he loved.
Reaching blindly into the emptiness, he whispered, as though Felix was the only one who could guide him back to the light.
“Felix…”
His fading voice was like a prayer.
There had been times when death felt disturbingly close, almost acceptable—but now, he desperately wanted to live.
In that instant, a bittersweet yet gentle scent of apples drifted through the empty darkness.
‘Am I imagining things…?’
Lowell wondered if he was hallucinating out of longing to see Felix, but the scent only grew stronger, refusing to fade.
The next sensation to return was touch.
The warmth of another wrapped around his body—so hot it burned, yet comforting.
His trembling, weakened body finally began to calm.
“It’s alright, Lowell. I’m here.”
A trembling voice filled his ears, and the darkness clouding his vision lifted.
The chaotic prison had fallen silent.
“I… I’m sorry… for lying to you.”
It was the first thing Lowell had planned to say upon seeing Felix again.
He knew an apology like that wouldn’t wash away the betrayal Felix must’ve felt, but he still wanted to show some sincerity.
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay now. You don’t have to hurt anymore.”
Felix buried his face into Lowell’s neck, whispering softly.
It tickled, and Lowell almost laughed, but he held it back.
“Tony… He tried to save me…”
“I know. He’s being treated, so you just focus on yourself.”
Felix poured a healing potion onto Lowell’s wound.
The liquid seeped into the torn flesh, gradually working its magic.
Compared to divine healing, it wasn’t much, but for emergency treatment, nothing worked better.
“Am I… definitely going to be locked up in the Tower? I… hate being trapped.”
Lowell’s voice stretched out endlessly.
His wounds were clearly healing, yet the force trying to snatch Lowell away from Felix only grew stronger.
His tears mixed with the potion, seeping into Lowell’s body.
“If you just open your eyes, I’ll give you anything you want, so don’t worry about a thing.”
Felix, terrified at even the slightest chance that Lowell might get trapped and lose his way back, desperately whispered that everything would be okay.
Clutching his cooling heart, Felix forced himself to speak gently.
“Thank you…”
Perhaps reassured, Lowell clung to his body as it was endlessly being pulled into the abyss, finally speaking the words that had been weighing on his mind.
“I’m worried… that little one… might have gotten hurt. They came to find me… all for nothing… only to suffer…”
Felix squeezed his eyes shut, resisting the overwhelming urge to beg him to forget about the child, to only care about surviving himself.
“They’ll be fine. So please… stop talking now.”
As Lowell imprinted the image of Felix softly stroking his cheek in his eyes one last time, his consciousness slipped away, like quietly falling asleep.
“Lowell… Lowell? You can’t sleep yet…”
Felix shed tears stained with devastation, like a believer witnessing the death of their god.
It wasn’t long after Lowell collapsed that the priest arrived.
Seeing Lowell unresponsive to both voice and touch, Felix’s mind slowly began to corrode.
“The priest has arrived!”
The priest, dispatched by the crown prince in case of an emergency, rushed into the prison in a panic.
Felix, holding Lowell tightly in his arms, urged the priest to hurry.
“But…”
Even as he pressured the priest to use divine power, Felix wouldn’t let go of Lowell, forcing the priest to sweat nervously while trying to read the room.
“Proceed as is.”
Felix refused to move, so the healing began under extremely uncomfortable conditions for the priest.
“You’re pregnant.”
“Forget the child. Prioritize Lowell, no matter what.”
Felix cut him off preemptively, as if the matter wasn’t even worth considering.
“I will do everything in my power to prevent what you fear.”
The priest, competent enough to be sent by the crown prince, quickly stabilized Lowell’s condition within a few hours, as the wound had thankfully missed any vital organs.
The problem was that Lowell still didn’t wake up.
“It may be due to mental exhaustion that he can’t open his eyes. I believe it would be best to move him to a safer place.”
To Felix, all of it sounded vague and meaningless.
He kept placing his ear against Lowell’s chest, listening for the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Only that act gave him any peace.
“Your Highness, you should heed the priest’s advice.”
When someone other than the priest approached, Felix, who acted like he would die if separated from Lowell, drew his sword.
Holding Lowell in one arm, he used the other to block Tia, who was trying to come closer.
The bloodshot look in his eyes made it clear he was not in his right mind.
It was understandable—Felix felt like he was standing on the edge of death’s river.
“For the sake of Lord Lowell, it would be best to move. Your Highness, I beg you to make the right decision.”
The moment Lowell’s name was mentioned, a faint glimmer returned to Felix’s eyes.
Holding Lowell even tighter, he rose to his feet.
“We’re heading to the Imperial Palace.”
His voice was heartbreakingly hoarse.
The news of bloodshed in the Imperial Palace spread quickly.
The crown prince had purged noble families plotting rebellion, and the emperor, shocked, had taken to his sickbed.
This was the official statement released regarding the incident.
Naturally, power was now being transferred to the crown prince.
However, the social circles, well aware of the emperor’s insatiable thirst for power, were not so quick to believe this narrative.
Though the details remained unclear, everyone knew that Phoebus had a new master.
With the ongoing purges of the remnants, nobles walked on thin ice, terrified that they too might be caught up in the storm.
And yet, there was a place untouched by this whirlwind of change—the guest room where Felix and Lowell were staying.
“The young lord is completely fine. He’s simply in a very deep sleep.”
Felix had been hearing this same line for five days now.
For the first two days, he had snapped, “Then find out why he can’t wake up,” or “What kind of human sleeps for two full days without waking?”
But now, it seemed he had given up even hoping.
All he did was gently stroke Lowell’s body, over and over, to keep it from growing cold.
* * *
