Ink & Crown

Chapter 67 – A Very Accurate Drawing

The laughter lingered around the table even after it had begun to fade.

Alina remained standing on her chair, still holding the drawing like it was something worth protecting, her eyes moving from one person to another as if making sure everyone had seen it properly. The others had mostly settled back into their seats, though the occasional chuckle still slipped out here and there.

Seliora leaned back slightly, still smiling. “You should keep that safe. It might be worth something one day.”

Alina looked at her seriously. “It already is.”

That only made Seliora laugh again.

Evelis reached out and gently adjusted the paper so it would not slide off the table. “It is,” she said softly, humoring her without teasing.

Lucien rested his elbow against the arm of his chair, watching the scene quietly. The corners of his mouth lifted just a little, though he did not say anything this time. The noise of the café continued to fill the space around them, steady and warm, with Riven’s voice rising above it in rhythm.

Then another presence approached the table.

Kaelen arrived without much announcement, as usual. There was a faint trace of grease along his sleeve, and his hair looked slightly more disordered than before. He pulled a chair closer with a quiet scrape and sat down, exhaling once as if finally allowing himself a moment of rest.

He glanced at the group, catching the faint smiles that had yet to fade, before his attention moved to the center of the table where the drawing rested without asking anything.

He simply leaned forward slightly and picked it up, holding it between his fingers as he studied it in silence.

For a few seconds, no one interrupted him.

His gaze moved slowly across the page, taking in each figure with the same careful attention he would give a mechanical diagram. His eyes paused briefly at the stage, then at the counter, then at the table where Dorian’s faceless figure sat.

Then they stopped.

There was a stick figure drawn slightly off to the side.

It looked... different.

There were lines around it. Small shapes. Something like tools scattered across its body. The figure itself seemed to be bent over, as if working on something, though the details were unclear in the way only a child’s drawing could make them.

Kaelen stared at it for a moment longer before lifting a finger and pointing at that particular figure, then turned his head toward Alina without saying anything.

The question was obvious, and she met his gaze immediately. “Yes,” she said with complete certainty. “That’s you.” She smiled, clearly pleased. “I drew you working.”

Kaelen looked back at the drawing, then at her again, and there was a brief pause where his expression did not quite settle into anything clear. It hovered somewhere between confusion and acceptance, as if he was trying to decide what the appropriate reaction should be.

Kaelen remained silent for a moment longer, his expression barely shifting before his mouth twitched faintly. “Yes,” he said slowly, giving a small nod. “That is… surprisingly accurate. You have captured me… quite well.”

Seliora leaned forward, laughing without restraint as she pointed at the drawing. “The tools are killing me.”

Evelis covered her mouth lightly, though the amusement in her eyes gave her away.

Even Lunessa laughed quietly, her hand resting lightly against the table as she looked at the drawing again.

Lucien glanced between Kaelen and the figure, then shook his head. “At least she captured your essence.”

Kaelen placed the drawing back down with care, as if it were something fragile.

“I will take that as a compliment,” he said.

Alina nodded firmly. “It is.”

Riven’s voice rose again from the stage, pulling the attention of the café back toward him as the next part of his performance picked up pace. The rhythm was livelier now, and a few customers near the front began clapping along in time.

The group gradually settled.

Their laughter faded into quieter smiles as they listened.

Riven stood under the warm glow of the lights, his movements still energetic despite the time he had already spent performing. His voice carried easily across the room, drawing attention without effort. There was a natural confidence to him, the kind that did not feel forced, and the audience responded to it without hesitation.

Time passed without anyone really noticing.

The performance continued.

One song blended into another, and the atmosphere of the café seemed to shift with it, becoming more animated, more alive. Conversations at other tables softened, then rose again between songs, always returning to the rhythm that Riven set.

At some point, his movements began to slow, subtle at first, with a slight delay in stepping back and longer pauses between lines, until he eventually reached the end of a piece and let the final note fade naturally into the air.

The applause came immediately, loud, genuine, and sustained.

Riven gave a small bow, one hand resting briefly against his side as he straightened again. There was a hint of fatigue now that had not been there earlier, though he still managed a grin.

“I think,” he said, catching his breath lightly, “that’s enough for today.”

A few voices from the crowd protested almost instantly.

“Just one more!”

“Come on, one more!”

Someone closer to the stage tapped their wristlink. “We’ll tip, just one more!”

Riven stared at them for a moment before narrowing his eyes. “Oh, now you remember tips?”

That drew laughter.

He pointed vaguely in their direction. “Where was this generosity an hour ago, hm? Aside from that one guy who actually had some sense and offered earlier.”

Another voice responded, amused. “You were doing fine without it!”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Riven shot back. “You’ve all gotten too comfortable.”

More laughter spread through the room.

He placed a hand against his chest dramatically. “Look at you, trying to squeeze more out of me like I’m some kind of machine.”

He paused, then added with mock accusation, “You don’t even care if I collapse right here, do you?”

Someone clapped. “We’ll catch you!”

Riven shook his head, though he was clearly amused. “No, no. I know how this goes. You’ll watch me fall and then ask for an encore.”

The laughter grew louder.

He raised a hand as if to end the discussion. “That’s it. I’m done. If I stay up here any longer, I’m not responsible for what happens next.”

This time, the crowd relented.

A few still chuckled, but no one pushed further. There was an unspoken understanding that he had already given more than enough.

Riven stepped down from the stage, stretching his shoulders slightly as he made his way back toward the table.

By the time he reached them, the energy he had been carrying seemed to drop all at once.

He pulled a chair back and sat down heavily.

Then, without hesitation, he leaned back and slumped into it.

“Still alive… barely,” he muttered.

Seliora looked at him once, then snorted softly. “You look like you just crawled out of a battlefield.”

Riven turned his head slightly toward her. “That was worse.”

“Oh?” she said. “Fighting for your life against applause?”

“Exactly,” he replied without missing a beat. “They just wouldn’t stop.”

Seliora crossed her arms. “If this is enough to exhaust you, how are you planning to perform on a proper stage?”

Riven frowned faintly. “This is a proper stage.”

She gestured around the café. “This?”

“Yes,” he said, sitting up slightly. “This is where it starts.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Riven clicked his tongue. “You’re missing the point.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.”

The others began to watch with growing amusement.

Dorian leaned back slightly, clearly not planning to interfere, while Lucien remained quiet, observing as usual. Kaelen rested his arm against the table, listening without comment, and Evelis glanced between them as if already knowing where this was going.

Riven straightened a little more, clearly preparing to defend himself. “It’s not about the stage,” he said. “It’s about how long you can keep going up there.”

Seliora raised a brow. “You lasted one morning. Barely.”

“That was a long morning.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It felt like it.”

“You’re proving my point.”

Riven opened his mouth to respond again, but this time a few of the others began to add to it.

“Yeah, that did look tiring,” Lucien said calmly, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

Dorian glanced at him. “You say that like it wasn’t self-inflicted.”

Kaelen nodded once. “You chose to continue.”

Riven looked at all of them in disbelief. “That’s not the point.”

Evelis shook her head slightly, a quiet smile forming. She did not join in, but her expression said enough.

At that moment, Alina reached for the pitcher on the table.

She carefully poured a glass of water, making sure not to spill, then held it out toward Riven.

“Here.”

Riven paused.

Then he accepted it with both hands, looking at her with exaggerated gratitude.

“See this?” he said, turning slightly toward the others. “This is kindness.”

He took a sip, then continued, “Pure, genuine kindness.”

He gestured vaguely at the rest of them. “Not like you people.”

Seliora rolled her eyes. “You’re fine.”

“I am now,” he replied. “Thanks to her.”

He pointed at Alina again. “At least someone here has a heart.”

Kaelen folded his arms. “We offered moral support.”

“You offered commentary,” Riven corrected.

“That counts.”

“It does not.”

He took another sip of water, then sighed contentedly. “Honestly, she’s better than all of you combined.”

He glanced down at Alina. “And she’s just a kid.”

Alina’s expression changed immediately. “I’m not a kid.”

Riven froze for half a second before nodding quickly. “Right. Yes. Of course.”

She crossed her arms. “I’m not.”

“You’re not,” he repeated. “My mistake.”

There was a brief pause before he added with complete seriousness, “I’m the kid.”

Alina looked at Riven for a moment longer, as if deciding whether to stay upset.

Before she could say anything further, Seliora quickly reached over and picked up the drawing. “Look at this,” she said, turning it toward Riven. “She even drew you very well.”

Riven glanced at it casually at first, but the moment his eyes settled on his stick figure, his expression paused. The oversized open mouth, the exaggerated posture, the way it almost looked like he was shouting at the entire café.

For a brief second, he looked exactly like Kaelen had earlier.

Then he slowly looked up. That was when the problem became clear.

He had just spent the last few moments praising Alina. Quite enthusiastically, in fact. Backtracking now was not an option.

Riven took a quiet breath, then nodded with a strained smile. “Wow,” he said, as if genuinely impressed. “That’s… a really good drawing. I’m clearly very well represented.”

His expression hovered somewhere between laughing and regretting his life choices.

That was enough to satisfy Alina. Her earlier annoyance disappeared almost instantly, replaced by a bright smile as if nothing had happened at all.

Riven exhaled softly under his breath, shoulders relaxing. Situation resolved.

Then Alina spoke again.

“Riven,” she said, looking at him with renewed enthusiasm, “don’t worry. I’ll draw a special one just for you later.”

Riven froze.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he nodded slowly. “Yes… thank you, Alina.”

He did not look entirely sure whether that was something to be grateful for.

That alone was enough to set the others off again.

“That’s it?” Seliora said, clearly unimpressed. “You can do better than that.”

Dorian glanced at him with faint amusement. “She’s putting in extra effort for you.”

Kaelen added, completely serious, “You should be more enthusiastic.”

“Yes,” Seliora continued, nodding as if reinforcing the point. “Be properly thankful. This is a special drawing.”

Riven looked at all of them, then back at Alina, who was still watching him expectantly.

He straightened slightly. “Right,” he said, forcing a more energetic tone. “Thank you, Alina. I’m… very, very excited.”

The table burst into laughter again.

Lucien watched the exchange quietly for a moment, then shook his head faintly. “Keep that up,” he said, glancing at Riven. “At this rate, you’ll get used to it.”

Riven shook his head. “That doesn’t sound encouraging.”

Lucien ignored that. “If you do,” he added calmly, “I’ll give you something you’ll like.”

That caught his attention immediately.

“Something I’ll like?” Riven leaned forward slightly, the earlier exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “What kind of something?”

Lucien rested back in his chair. “You’ll see.”

Riven frowned. “That doesn’t help.”

“It’s not supposed to.”

Riven studied him for a moment, trying to read something from his expression, but Lucien simply looked back without giving anything away.

After a few seconds, Riven leaned back again, crossing his arms. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Lucien said nothing more, though his gaze shifted briefly toward the stage.

I should find something that suits him, he thought. Something that will actually fit his voice.Something with enough presence to match Riven’s style.

The idea settled quickly in his mind as he leaned back slightly, already sorting through possibilities.

Riven glanced at him once more. “This better not be disappointing.”

Lucien’s expression didn’t change. “Look forward to it.”

Riven clicked his tongue, but there was a hint of anticipation now that hadn’t been there before.