Chapter 988 - 987: Returned From Death

"Father, Rowan only awakened last night."

Celeste released the chair and faced him. Her voice shook, but she made herself continue.

"He’s only a Level One. A F rank. He hasn’t chosen a Blessing. Sending him to the Northern Wall now would be sending him to die."

Edmund brushed a fleck of food from his sleeve.

"He is talented," she added. "Sir Luke has been teaching him. Give him time to grow, and he could-"

"Would you let your family die for him?"

Celeste stopped.

The king pointed toward Helena, her mother, then the three children standing among the ruined breakfast dishes.

"Your mother. Your brothers and sisters. Me. Are we worth less to you than a boy you barely know?"

"That isn’t what I-"

"Then why are you arguing?"

Celeste looked at her mother who just spoke. Helena waited for an answer without a trace of sympathy.

She couldn’t give one.

Her father’s ultimatum left her choosing between people whose deaths she could not accept. Rowan had done nothing to deserve this. Whatever she felt toward the people in this room, she couldn’t wish them dead either.

Perhaps if Edmund understood what Rowan could become...

The name of the physique nearly left her mouth.

She bit back the words.

Her father would demand proof. He would want Rowan brought before him, his status window exposed, every detail explained. She couldn’t take that knowledge back afterward.

And if the God of Light was already interested in the boy, revealing more might make things worse.

"At least you know when to stop talking," Edmund said.

Celeste lowered her eyes.

"You need to remember your place. Remember who raised you, who fed you, and whose name you’ve spent your life using."

He gestured around the room.

"Everything you’ve been given came from this family. You should be grateful you were born a Montclair instead of begging outside our gates."

Helena nodded.

"And remember which god has protected this family," he continued. "That is the god you should serve."

Celeste watched a drop of her blood fall onto her shoe.

She had come to breakfast with two applications. Both lay soaked in wine beneath the broken table.

There was nothing else she could say here.

She turned toward the doors.

"Not even a word before leaving," Helena said disdainfully. "Where did she learn such manners?"

Celeste kept walking.

"One more thing."

Edmund’s voice stopped her just short of the handle.

"If you hide him, or send him somewhere else to keep him safe, I’ll have his head delivered to you in a box."

Her fists closed.

For a moment, she could see the box with Rowan’s head in it. She hated her father for making her imagine it.

Then she opened the door, stepped out, and slammed it behind her.

Isabel glanced at the others.

"She really does have a temper, doesn’t she?"

———

Sir Luke was waiting at the entrance to the family wing. He straightened when he saw Celeste approaching, then frowned at the blood on her chin.

"Saintess?"

She walked past him.

He turned and followed.

"Celeste. What happened?"

Her hair shifted as she quickened her pace. He saw the bruising across her cheek and the fresh cut beside it.

"What is going-"

"I’m going to my room, Sir Luke."

Her voice was strained.

"I want to be alone."

He stopped.

Celeste didn’t look back. He watched her round the corner, then lowered his eyes to a drop of blood on the floor.

It had fallen from her face.

Luke stared at it until his jaw began to ache. He had brought her safely through ruined villages and a battlefield, only to wait outside while her own family hurt her.

He looked back along the corridor toward the dining room.

The privacy wards had kept everything inside. He hadn’t heard a shout, much less a blow.

He wished he could go in and make who was responsible answer for it. His hand closed at his side, then opened again.

His S rank gave him no authority over the king. He was a soldier of Aurelia, and Celeste had asked him to wait. Now she had asked to be alone.

Neither order was one he wanted to obey.

Luke let out a long, troubled sigh.

———

Celeste locked her bedroom door.

She reached the bed before the first sob escaped. Then she sat down hard, pressed both hands over her mouth, and bent forward.

The pressure hurt her split lip.

She tried to stop crying. She hadn’t cried in the dining room. She had managed the corridor without giving anyone that much.

But here, every breath caught.

Her mother had watched her bleed and complained about her manners. Isabel, her elder sister had laughed. Her father had threatened to send her Rowan’s head and banish her.

Celeste pulled a pillow against her chest and held it until her arms hurt.

She had expected a refusal. An argument about money. Perhaps an order to stop visiting Rowan so often.

She hadn’t prepared for this.

Last night, the boy had thanked her for being there on his birthday. She could remember his smile when Luke praised him. He had finally begun looking forward to something.

Now she had to tell him he was being sent away.

What would he ask first?

Whether she could stop it?

Whether he had done something wrong?

Celeste buried her face in the pillow.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, although Rowan couldn’t hear her.

She didn’t know what she was apologising for. Bringing him to Aurelia? Telling him to wait? Believing she could keep him safe because she was a princess and despite knowing how her family treated her?

Her cheek throbbed. She lifted a shaking hand, gathering enough white light to close the cuts and ease the bruising.

The tears continued.

Celeste caught the cross at her throat and bowed her head over it.

"Lord... I don’t know what to do."

She stayed like that, gripping the pendant while she cried.

———

At the guest residence, Rowan sat cross-legged on the rug with his practice sword across his lap.

He had closed the door and moved away from the window. Watching the street kept drawing his attention from the two energies inside him.

Aether travelled through one set of pathways. Demonic energy followed the other.

He concentrated on the routes he had felt during awakening, guiding a little energy through his arms before allowing it to return. When his attention slipped, he stopped trying to direct it and waited until he could feel the movement clearly again.

There was no clash and no pain.

After several minutes, Rowan exhaled and opened his eyes.

He flexed his fingers before bringing up his status window. The attributes hadn’t changed, and his Blessing remained unselected.

His attention moved down the entries.

Then he paused.

"My title," he murmured. "I forgot to check it."

Celeste had explained how difficult titles were to obtain. His master had told him to examine this one later, but the discussion about Blessings had distracted him.

Rowan tapped Returned from Death.

The description opened.

——

[Title: Returned from Death]

[Your death was witnessed, recorded, and accepted by the laws of the world.

Then you came back.

No law explains your return, and the boundary between life and death no longer seems certain where you are concerned.

You are alive.

But death still remembers your name.]