"Ow, ow, ow!" Vivia's face scrunched in pain.
"Sit still," Zerath frowned.
"It hurts."
"Because you're not sitting still."
"Because it hurts."
"That's why you should sit still so that it doesn't hurt."
Her brow twitched, and she muttered under her breath. "I can do this myself too you know…"
Zerath glanced down at her. "You saved Nethermoor. The least I can do is tend to the wound on your forehead," he said, gently dabbing a green herbal paste on her injury.
They were seated in the living room of Belphegor's home. Zephyra was back in the bathhouse with the child. The crackling of the hearth lent a cozy warmth to the space, which eased the chill around her.
"Would it not be a problem if your knights saw their Crown Prince personally tending to a human?"
"My knights are very understanding. So you can stop finding reasons to get rid of me. Does Princess feel strange when I'm this close to her?"
"What if I say yes?"
He smiled. "Then I'm glad that Princess finds me charming enough to make her heart rattle."
She stared at him, amazed by his shamelessness. "How are you so confident it's not the opposite?"
"I don't think my lady's cheeks would've blushed in pink otherwise."
"Cold also brings a red tint," She snorted haughtily but winced a moment later. "Ow!"
Zerath sternly said, "Sit. Still."
Vivia mumbled. "You're the one making false claims…"
A small smile lifted his lips. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"You shouldn't have stepped in between. It could've hurt you much worse."
She met his gaze filled with concern. A flutter of something inexplicable tickled her chest, watching a trace of anxiety cloud his eyes.
She said softly, "You hadn't stepped away either. You easily could've, but you didn't."
"Sometimes anger is better expressed than repressed. As the Crown Prince, I don't condone violence, but Nethermoor's situation is different. If pelting stones would soothe their fury toward the child, then taking a few hits would've been nothing for me."
Vivia couldn't help but smile. Over the years, she had seen people of wealthy status trampling over the commoners like insects. They took it as an insult if a commoner even dared to look in their eye, and here Zerath was ready to take his people's angry hits without any qualms.
"You'll be a good king."
Zerath stared at her. "You'll be a great Queen too."
She looked surprised. "I did nothing."
"You stood up for the child and firmly faced the Nethermoor citizens. You didn't yield to their anger or pressure. That's the making of a good leader."
Her gaze faltered with a glint of guilt laced in her expression. "A good leader wouldn't lie to their subjects."
"When did you lie?" He blinked.
"Sir Belphegor and you assume that I performed the Harbinger of Seasons Dance. But it's not true. I'm not the blessed human to have that power. I'm overwhelmed that you two appreciate my dance, but I feel like an imposter."
"Then what else can explain Nethermoor's fate?"
She shook her head, expressing her cluelessness.
Zerath observed her bummed out expression. Then he stood, only to kneel down before her. He reached out his hand and asked with a smile, "May I?"
Her eyes slightly stretched wide. Though confused, she placed her hand in his. To her surprise, he bent and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand.
"As the Crown Prince of the Demon Realm, I offer my sincerest gratitude to Lady Vivia. It was you who lifted the eternal winter. A person with such great strength and kindness," he raised his head and peered into her beautiful eyes, "can never be an imposter."
The words made her breath stop. Her lips parted, stunned. To watch a demon kneel before a human and offer his deepest gratitude was an immense sign of respect.
Her eyes ached as she felt herself losing in his sincere golden irises, and a tremor shook her from within.
"I still believe that you performed the Harbinger's Dance. As for why you could perform the dance despite not being the blessed one - I trust there must be a reason for it. Nature works in mysterious ways."
For a dancer whose dream was to become the Maestro - nothing could bring her immense joy than her dance to be compared to the divine Harbinger's Dance. It meant a sense of recognition far beyond what she could imagine.
She quickly wiped the corner of her misty eye. "Your Highness really feels that way?"
"I'd never lie to my lady. Similar to the Harbinger's Dance in the Human Realm, the Demon Realm has the Harbinger of Twilight Dance. A blessed demon can influence the solar and lunar cycles."
Vivia slowly nodded. "I've heard of it."
"I believe there must be some ancient scriptures that talk about these blessings in depth. It's said that only a human and demon belonging to one of the noble Great Three Families is blessed with this power by the Gods. But there must be something more to it that perhaps even our ancestors didn't uncover. Your dance proved it today. We just have to look for the answer."
A wave of comfort washed over her heart, but she still felt uncertain about this theory. Yet gazing at the firm confidence Zerath emanated, a ticklish feeling took flight in her chest.
"I still don't think…"
"I'm done with his bath!" Zephyra's ecstatic voice rang from the bathhouse. "Ah, he looks so charming! He is going to be a beauty when he grows up, you know~"
Vivia choked, and her hand flew over to her chest.
W-was it feeling a little fuzzy just now?
She couldn't look into Zerath's eyes for some reason and abruptly jumped on her feet. "I'll go and check on him."
"Trying to escape, are we?" He asked with an amused smile.
She spun around with narrowed eyes. "Why would I run away?"
"Perhaps to prevent me from seeing the red tint on your cheeks."
"...Shamelessness doesn't suit a respectable Crown Prince."
He arched his brow. "Crown Prince is simply a title, my lady. Do not forget that I'm a man through and through."
The hue of the red tint on her face deepened without her permission. "I'm leaving!"
She stomped towards the bathhouse when his voice stopped her. "Wait."
"I won't," she snorted dismissively.
"I've something to ask," he sincerely said.
She paused, questioningly glancing over her shoulder. "What is it?"
Zerath retracted his playful smile and looked somber. "Back when you were talking to the crowd about the child."
"Yes, what about it?" She blinked twice.
"You asked them how terrifying it feels to live like that, to wait alone in a cold, dark place with nothing to eat and drink. Had my lady Vivia…experienced something like that?"
A tense silence filled the room, disturbed only by the faint crackle of the hearth's fire. Vivia's lips moved as if trying to form a string of a sentence, yet only a single word slipped out in the end.
"Yes."
Zerath drew in a quiet breath.
She turned, but not before he caught a glimpse of a wistful smile on her lips.
"But it doesn't matter anymore."