Chapter 456 --456
Chapter 456: Chapter-456
He turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin upon seeing the two massive commanders glaring down at him like twin gargoyles."Gods," Julian hissed, clutching a hand to his chest. "Do you two ever sleep?"
"Our biological requirements for rest are superior to human limitations," Mahir growled, stepping forward, towering over the prince. "You remained in the Regent’s private quarters for the entire night cycle. Explain yourself."
Julian rolled his eyes, utterly unbothered by the intimidation tactic. He stepped away from the door, stretching his arms over his head. "Relax, Commander. I slept on the velvet sofa. Your precious Regent is currently asleep in her bed. I suggest you do not wake her. She actually looks peaceful for once."
Ken’s dark eyebrows rose slightly. "The Regent is asleep? The sun has been up for forty minutes. She usually summons the financial ministers by dawn."
"Well, today, the financial ministers can wait," Julian said, a confident, protective edge bleeding into his tone. He looked at both of them. "She is not to be disturbed until she wakes up on her own. If anyone tries to bring a tax ledger into that room, you have my full permission to throw them out the nearest window."
Mahir looked at Julian, trying to detect a lie, but found nothing but genuine, stubborn care. The beast-kin commander slowly unhanded the hilt of his sword.
"Understood," Ken rumbled, a faint, hidden smirk touching the corner of his scarred lips. "We will secure the perimeter. Go change your clothes, Prince. You smell like cheap ale and stale sugar."
Julian laughed softly, turning to head down the corridor toward his own wing. As he walked away, he couldn’t help but touch his chest. The heavy, suffocating anxiety that had plagued him since arriving at the capital as a hostage was completely gone, replaced by the memory of a terrifying, beautiful girl resting her head against his hair, admitting she was tired.
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Elara opened her eyes.
Her internal biological clock, which had been rigorously trained over the past decade to initiate consciousness at exactly 4:30 AM, immediately flagged a severe environmental error. The quality of the light filtering through the heavy silk curtains was not the pale, slate-gray of pre-dawn. It was a bright, piercing, fully developed gold.
Elara remained perfectly still, utilizing the shadow angles on the vaulted ceiling to calculate the sun’s trajectory.
’Sunlight angle is approximately forty-five degrees. Current time estimate: 9:45 AM. I have exceeded my designated sleep cycle by five point two hours. This is a catastrophic scheduling failure.’