Chapter 58

They both sit at the bed, Oblea's arm wrapped securely around Eska, who clings to her like she might disappear at any moment. The warmth, the presence, is something Eska refuses to let go of just yet.

"Thaxil? You fought Thaxil?" Oblea murmurs, her voice low with thought. "That is… concerning."

Her gaze shifts toward the doorway, where Valen stands with his arms crossed, posture rigid, his gaze locked onto Oblea.

"Could've done with a bit of privacy, paladin," she says, her voice dry, though there's clear irritation laced within it.

"It's the rules, ma'am," Valen replies, unmoved. "I can't leave you both alone."

Oblea sighs, exasperated. "You people and your rules. Your laws." Her eyes narrow, the disdain in her voice unmistakable.

"Mom, it's alright," Eska speaks up, her voice softer. "He's nice. He helped me."

Eska turns slightly toward Valen, finally loosening her hold on Oblea just enough to do so. "He just likes to look mean to others."

Valen blinks, caught completely off guard.

His shoulders lower slightly, a flicker of disbelief passing across his face. "Eska…" His voice is quieter, his brows raising in momentary surprise before he catches himself, straightening back into his usual stance.

Oblea watches the exchange, her head tilting slightly, confusion flickering in her sharp gaze. Then, her eyes drop toward Eska—and she notices it.

The playful grin tugging at her daughter's lips.

"What is going on here?" she asks.

Eska turns toward her mother, straightening slightly. "What do you mean?" she asks, glancing at Valen, then back at Oblea, confusion tightening her brows.

Oblea's eyes widen, a rare expression of surprise crossing her face.

Eska's confusion deepens. "Mom?"

Then—shock.

Oblea moves—so fast that Eska barely registers it until it's already happened.

She spins toward Valen. He is on the floor. Just as stunned. Oblea's hand is wrapped firmly around his throat, her grip unshaking.

"MOM!" Eska shouts, bolting forward, but—

"STAY where you are, Eska."

Oblea's voice cuts through the room, sharp and absolute. Eska freezes, her breath catching, her muscles locking in place as she swallows, unsure what's happening but knowing better than to disobey.

Oblea's focus stays on Valen, who seems completely outmaneuvered, overpowered. His hands hover slightly, but he doesn't fight back, his eyes narrowed, calculating.

"Listen to me, and listen to me carefully, Valen." Oblea says, drawing out his name, making sure he understands every word.

Her voice lowers, slow and measured.

"You touch my daughter, and I will feed you your own heart. I will make you beg me to end you. I will—" She stops.

Valen's hand moves—not to fight, but to grasp hers.

His grip is steady, his expression calm. "Oblea, your daughter is safe with me. I promise you—" He stops short rethinking his choice of words, his eyes closing briefly before he exhales, steadying himself. Then, he opens them, his gaze unwavering.

"I vow, I will protect your daughter."

Oblea flinches, ever so slightly.

Her fingers loosen, her eyes narrowing as she studies him. Then, slowly, she releases her grip, standing. She watches him, then looks at Eska—who is already watching her.

Eska moves first, rushing toward her mother, embracing her tightly.

"Please don't do that again," she murmurs, her voice trembling.

Oblea returns the embrace, her arms firm around Eska though its obvious her gaze remains locked on Valen as he slowly stands.

She looks down at Eska, her fingers gently wiping away the stray tears on her daughter's face. Then, without breaking her focus, she speaks.

"I need you to leave me alone with her for one minute, Valen."

Valen recoils slightly, his brows furrowing. His gaze flickers between Eska and Oblea, hesitation evident in the way his fingers tighten at his sides.

But he doesn't argue.

Without a word, he turns, walking to the door and pulling it open. He lingers for a second, glancing back over his shoulder.

"One minute," he says evenly. "Don't make me regret this."

Then, he steps out, closing the door behind him.

Oblea stares at the door for a long moment, her expression frozen in shock.

"Mom?" Eska asks, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Oblea blinks, snapping out of it. Without missing a beat, she leans down, pressing a kiss to Eska's forehead.

"The last thing I thought I'd have to teach you is about… this. Relationships," she mutters, straightening. "So you're going to pay attention, Eska."

***

A minute passes.

Valen steps back into the room, his gaze immediately falling on Eska.

She sits on the bed, her legs pulled up, arms wrapped tightly around them, her face buried against her knees. She rocks slightly, a slow, rhythmic motion, her silence saying more than words could.

Oblea, however, sits beside her, wearing a content smile—too calm, too controlled. She looks up at him, her expression warm in a way that feels wrong.

"Ah, Valen," she muses lightly, as if greeting an old friend. "I do hope you can give us more time in the future. Just the three of us."

The smile remains, but something else lingers behind it—a weight, an unspoken warning wrapped in honeyed words.

"I would love to hear more from both of you," she continues, tilting her head slightly. "Keep track of what you both are up to."

Valen barely has time to process the words before it hits him.

A sudden, crushing pressure—phantom fingers tightening around his throat, just like before. His body remembers it before his mind does, the sensation creeping up from nowhere, like a lingering shadow of her earlier grip.

Oblea doesn't move. She doesn't need to. She simply sits there, watching him, that same pleasant smile never wavering, as if daring him to acknowledge the unspoken weight in the air.

"I—I assure you, Oblea. I would never do anything to harm your daughter," Valen says, his voice steady, but his posture betrays him. His shoulders are stiff, his jaw tight. Every muscle in his body screams tension, his breath just a little too controlled.

Oblea chuckles, an almost regal laugh, light and effortless. "Of course you wouldn't."

Then her gaze locks onto him.

The warmth in her expression doesn't fade, but her eyes—her eyes—shift into something else entirely. The eyes of a predator. Calculating, patient, unyielding.

A tiger stalking its prey.

"No," she repeats, her voice softer now, but somehow heavier, more final.

"Of course you wouldn't."

She turns back to Eska, her voice shifting, lightening. "Now, enough of that. We're wasting precious time, aren't we?"

Eska lifts her head slightly, peeking out from behind her arms, her eyes still laced with uncertainty. Oblea's smile softens—not the sharp, knowing one she'd worn before, but something real. She reaches out, brushing a few stray strands of hair from Eska's face.

"You look terrible," she teases, playfulness creeping into her tone.

Eska huffs and immediately buries her face against her arms again.

"And whose fault is that!?" she shouts, voice muffled.

Oblea lets out a genuine laugh, filling the space.

Oblea smirks, subtle but knowing, like she holds a secret no one else does.

"How was the city?" she asks, tilting her head slightly. "I bet it's as boring as I remember." Then, she turns toward Valen, that same smirk still playing on her lips.

Valen blinks, confused—until Eska suddenly straightens, her expression shifting in an instant.

"It is NOT!" she exclaims, nearly indignant. "There are so many people here! And everyone sells everything! There are stalls with fresh bread, dried meats, even strange things I don't even know what they are for! And everyone is always shouting!" She throws her arms out as she speaks. "I couldn't even walk around the first day!"

Oblea still hasn't looked away from Valen, but there's amusement in her gaze before she finally turns to Eska.

"Oh? Is that so?" she muses, her voice light, teasing.

Eska bites.

"Yes! And the food! It's so good. And—oh, Mom, you should have seen the glass here. And the books! There are so many different books!"

She keeps going, animated, hands moving, excitement pouring from her as Oblea leans in, nodding along, offering small interjections at just the right moments—"Oh, really?" "And then what happened?"—guiding Eska into saying more, drawing out every last detail.

Valen stays quiet, watching, taking in every shift in Eska's face, every change in her voice, the way her eyes shine when she talks, the way she doesn't hesitate to be herself here.

Something flutters inside him, light and restless, spreading warmth through his chest. It stirs when he looks at her, a quiet thrill that lingers.

A few hours pass before Valen and Eska finally step out of the room.

Eska walks with lighter steps, her expression more relaxed, her energy quieter but content.

The warmth of the conversation lingers between them, the weight of everything that had happened before softened—if only for a little while.

Valen follows beside her, his usual composed demeanor unchanged, but somehow more relaxed as he watches Eska.

The door shuts behind them with a quiet click, sealing away the moment they had just shared with Oblea.

As they walk toward the exit, Eska glances up at Valen. "Thank you."

He looks down at her, his expression softening. "You are welcome." Then, with a small chuckle, he looks ahead. "I guess we're doing this often."

Eska giggles, but a mischievous smile creeps onto her lips as she looks up at him.

Valen raises an eyebrow. "What?"

She only grins, taking a few quick steps ahead. "Nothing," she says, feigning innocence.

As they step out of the cathedral, sunlight greets them, warm and bright. Eska squints for a moment, adjusting to the shift from the dim halls to the open sky.

Valen stretches slightly before glancing at her. "I guess we've earned a break. Ciel will probably be tied up at the infirmary for a while. How about I show you around the city?"

Eska's face lights up at the idea. "I would love to explore!"

Then—

A roar.

Not just a sound, but a force that tears through the sky, rattling the stone beneath their feet. A deafening, guttural tremor that presses against Eska's chest like an invisible weight, demanding submission.

She stumbles back a step, breath catching as fear coils through her veins. Her eyes dart to Valen, seeking his reaction.

But—he is calm.

He meets her gaze with a reassuring smile, then tilts his head upward. "It's alright."

Her pulse pounds against her ribs as she follows his gaze. Far above, a shadow eclipses the sun.

It is massive, its sheer size beyond comprehension. Even at this distance, it could erase the city in a single pass, destroy everything with just the beat of its wings.

A dragon. But not just any dragon.

Its form is black as the void, swallowing the light around it, its wings stretching across half the city, casting a shifting darkness over the streets below.

Eska stares, her throat tight, words failing her. "W-What is that? I've never seen anything like—"

"Nakisk," Valen says simply.

Her breath stutters. Her eyes snap back to the colossal beast, something inside her turning cold.

Her body locks in place, skin prickling with something deeper than fear. Her chest tightens, her heartbeat hammering against her ribs, trying to escape.

This is the god that holds her fate in its grasp—the god that will decide, in two years, whether she deserves to exist at all.