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Angyara lay on the cabin floor a moment longer, gradually regaining color in her face and trying to shake off the lingering unease.

Her eyes still felt heavy, but as she turned toward a corner of the cabin, something caught her attention. A large bundle, covered by a dark tarp, rested there, taking up nearly half the space.

She tilted her head, observing it more closely.

The shadows of the covered object danced faintly, moved by the play of light emanating from the fire in the center of the room. The weight of memories fell on her like a dense fog, and her thoughts drifted to King Uldraxis.

—The King has been... generous with us —she murmured, almost in a whisper, words meant more for herself than anyone else.

Ralkar, still busy with his boots, didn’t seem to hear her, but Angyara remained immersed in her thoughts.

The imposing figure of Uldraxis had always kept a cold distance, as if the weight of his crown separated him from common mortals. However, Uldraxis had allowed something Angyara could never have imagined possible.

"A true king... A true king understands the value of what has been lost and what can still be saved." The thought crossed her mind with a certainty that surprised her.

She closed her eyes briefly, reliving the fleeting moment she had spent with her mother. The warmth of that embrace, the words of love she never thought she could say. A knot of emotions formed in her chest as she remembered how, for the first time, her mother and father had been together with her. Together, as a family.

And all thanks to the king. Not just a sovereign, but a being capable of giving that kind of gift.

Angyara smiled slightly, almost without realizing it.

—That’s how a true king should be,— she said, as her fingers caressed the tarp, wanting to uncover what secrets lay beneath it.

Just as she was about to lift the corner, Ralkar’s laughter interrupted her thoughts. The carefree sound filled the small cabin, and Angyara turned her head, surprised.

Ralkar, with his boots finally on properly, wobbled a little, as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.

—What’s so funny? —Angyara asked, a bit irritated by the interruption of her moment of reflection.

Ralkar walked toward Angyara with light steps, as if no worry clouded his mind. When he reached her, he placed a hand on her head and, with disconcerting tenderness, began to stroke her gently. His eyes, full of compassion, watched her as if she were a fragile, pure, and innocent creature.

In his eyes, Angyara seemed like a small animal that wouldn’t last long in the brutality of the wild world.

Angyara felt the weight of his hand like a slap to her pride. She shook her head, freeing herself from his touch, and looked at him with eyes full of grievance, as if her dignity had been questioned.

Ralkar’s condescension irritated her deeply.

Ralkar smiled, an expression that seemed to know more than it let on. His eyes still shone with that mix of compassion and something else, perhaps a hint of amusement.

—Don’t mistake King Uldraxis' actions for generosity... much less for kindness —he said, in a soft but firm tone, as if revealing an undeniable truth.

Angyara frowned, confused. Her thoughts still echoed with the warmth of that memory with her parents, but the seriousness in Ralkar’s voice made her doubt.

—What do you mean? —she asked, almost challenging him to take that illusion away from her.

Ralkar let out a light sigh, as if dealing with a child who couldn’t comprehend the complexities of the world.

—King Uldraxis didn’t do what he did out of kindness or empathy —he began to explain, his deep eyes fixed on hers—. What you witnessed, that moment with your parents, was a calculated concession. It was nothing more than a transaction in his mind.

—Our appearance in his realm... —Ralkar paused— was considered impossible. The living should not be able to cross the Threshold, but we did. And that deeply unsettled him.

Angyara blinked, trying to process what Ralkar was saying. Uldraxis, the very king who had granted her that moment with her family, had felt fear?

—Is that why he came himself? —she ventured, recalling the imposing figure of the king alongside the Uldraxis Sentinels, his personal guard.

Ralkar nodded slowly.

—Exactly. His guard wasn’t just for ceremony; he feared what he didn’t understand. He even tried to destroy this cabin to intimidate us, to remind us who rules in his kingdom —he continued, gesturing around, as if the place itself bore witness to that failed attempt—. But he didn’t succeed. And not just because of my power, though that certainly stopped him.

—Your power? —Angyara asked, increasingly intrigued.

Ralkar smiled again, this time with an almost sad air.

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—Yes, my power made him hesitate. Though he could have defeated me, he wasn’t sure he’d come out unscathed. And a wounded king is a vulnerable king. His enemies, both external and internal, wouldn’t have taken long to seize that moment of weakness.

Angyara’s eyes widened, realizing the intrigues hidden behind every gesture of Uldraxis.

But it wasn’t just fear that had driven the king.

—There was something else —Ralkar added, watching Angyara closely—. I revealed something to him about his kingdom, something he was unaware of.

—Something he didn’t know...? —Angyara whispered, still processing everything.

—Exactly —Ralkar confirmed, his words filled with gravity—. And that’s why he needs me. He knows I have no interest in his throne, but we share a common interest.

Ralkar looked at her intently, wanting to ensure that his words sank deeply into her mind.

—Remember, Angyara, a king always acts with his benefit in mind. His decisions are not driven by kindness or altruism, but by what he can gain from them. Uldraxis is a king above all, and his actions are based on what can preserve or enhance his power.

He paused, leaning slightly toward her, his tone no longer light or mocking, but deep and laden with meaning.

The words about to leave his mouth carried the weight of a lesson.

—Angyara —he began, his eyes locked on hers—. You have a noble heart, but you must learn to see beyond what your eyes show you. Gestures, actions, may seem generous, even kind... but in this world, true kindness is rarely the motivation behind such acts. Don’t let appearances deceive you. Always question what the giver may gain, what strings they might be pulling in the shadows.

Ralkar’s words fell like stones on Angyara’s heart. She looked at him, her lips pressed tightly, as if struggling not to let her emotions overwhelm her.

—But... my mother... my father... —she tried to protest, clinging to the memory of that warm embrace, of that precious moment.

Ralkar shook his head, and though his gaze remained tender, his words were as sharp as a blade.

—The king didn’t allow you to be with them out of compassion, but because he saw an opportunity to keep you under his influence. He plants a seed of gratitude and will control your decisions without you realizing it. A king always has in mind what he can gain, not what he can give.

—So... everything he did... —she whispered, almost to herself— was just to manipulate us?

Ralkar observed her for a moment before answering, wanting her to understand well.

—A king like Uldraxis always has a plan, a strategy behind every gesture. His kingdom is full of dangers, both visible and invisible, and for him, even a small misstep can be fatal. Everything he does has a purpose, and we, little one, are no exception to his games.

Angyara remained silent, absorbing that lesson with a bitter but necessary feeling.

She lowered her gaze, feeling a mix of confusion and sadness. Ralkar’s words echoed in her mind, clashing with the illusion she had built around the king.

"Is it always like this?" he thought, as his fingers played with the edge of the canvas, unwilling to lift it just yet. "Is nothing as it seems?"

—So... —he began, without taking his eyes off the canvas—... if what you're saying is true, does that mean that everything here, these... gifts, are just a way to keep us happy and under control?

Ralkar let out a soft laugh, more amused than malicious, before leaning forward and, with a sly smile, replied:

—Gifts? —He approached the canvas with an exaggerated gesture and tapped it lightly with his foot—. These aren't gifts from the great and magnanimous king, little one. These are... —he made a theatrical pause, his eyes gleaming with mischievous malice—... souvenirs. Mere tourist trinkets I brought along to decorate our little stay.

Angyara blinked, incredulous, before the revelation settled in her mind.

—Souvenirs? —she repeated, stunned.

Ralkar nodded with feigned gravity, clearly enjoying Angyara's reaction.

—Exactly. You know, nothing says "I've been to the Threshold and survived" like a nice decorative piece —he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm—. Although, of course, the King might think they're something more... important. But to me, they're just mementos from a place I hope I won’t have to return to anytime soon.

Angyara frowned, looking at Ralkar as if he'd just said the most absurd thing in the world.

—Souvenirs? —she repeated, incredulously—. Are you telling me you just walked into Uldraxis' realm and took things... like you were in a gift shop?

Ralkar, still wearing his playful smile, shrugged.

—Well, technically, there aren't any signs that say "Don't touch" in the Palace of Shadows. So... —his words trailed off with a slight, amused smirk.

Angyara stared at him, her eyes widening in horror as her mind began to race. "Did he steal? From the king himself?"

The weight of what Ralkar had done hit her like a slab of stone.

—Those aren’t souvenirs! —she exclaimed, stepping toward him and frantically gesturing toward the canvas—. You stole from the Lord of Eternal Shadows! Do you know what that means? Do you know what he could do to us if he finds out?

Ralkar looked at her with the same calm as always, as if Angyara was overreacting to something insignificant.

He crossed his arms and sighed, tilting his head to the side.

—Ah, little one, always so dramatic —he said in an overly calm voice, as if soothing a child afraid of the shadows under the bed—. The king won’t be bothered by a couple of... how shall I put it... decorative knick-knacks. He’s got more important things to think about, don’t you think?

Angyara almost choked on her indignation.

—More important than the fact that someone walked into his realm and stole from under his nose! —Her hands started moving frantically, pointing around the room as her thoughts swirled—. He’s going to hunt us down, he’ll chase us, and when he catches us... he’ll tear us apart! Or worse, banish us to the darkest corner of the Threshold!

Ralkar let out a soft chuckle, leaning against the cabin wall as if nothing concerned him. He raised a hand in a casual gesture, as if to calm Angyara’s rising storm of nerves.

—You're exaggerating, little one. The king won’t even remember those things. They’re... trifles. Nothing he’ll miss. Think of them as... palace cleaning. I’m helping, really.

He smiled mischievously, as if he’d just solved a great moral dilemma.

Angyara looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Is he insane?" she thought, as her heart began to race.

Images of Uldraxis' wrath flashed through her mind like a whirlwind. She envisioned the Sentinels of Uldraxis riding their dark birds, chasing them across the Bridges of Silence and beyond the kingdom's walls.

—This isn’t a joke, Ralkar! —she said with a mix of panic and frustration, rubbing her temples—. He’s going to tear us apart like insects if he finds out that...!

Knock, knock.

A soft, almost imperceptible knock on the door interrupted her exasperated speech. Both of them fell silent for a moment, exchanging quick glances.

The sound was so delicate it was barely noticeable, as if whoever was on the other side was afraid to disturb.

—What... was that? —Angyara whispered, her tone wavering between fear and surprise, her eyes shifting toward the door.

Ralkar, on the other hand, simply shrugged again. He approached the door with calm steps and, without the slightest concern, pressed his ear against the wood.

Knock, knock.

The knock came again, this time a bit clearer.

—It’s someone who clearly doesn’t want to interrupt our little discussion on interior decor —Ralkar whispered, a spark of amusement in his eyes as he turned his head to look at Angyara—. Perhaps the kingdom’s delivery man, bringing us more... "souvenirs"?

Angyara let out an exhausted sigh, closing her eyes for a moment as if trying to regain her composure.

—Ralkar... —she murmured, rubbing her eyes with her fingers—. Could you please take this a bit more seriously?

Ralkar shot her one last playful glance before opening the door with an exaggeratedly elegant gesture.

—As you wish, little one —he said with a mocking bow before turning the handle.