Chapter 159: Sleep, Lies, and the King’s Greatest Threat
Chapter 159: Sleep, Lies, and the King’s Greatest Threat
Elyn did not say anything at first.
She simply looked at them.
Zorathys stood with the careful stillness of someone pretending he had nothing to hide, his posture loose, his expression faintly bored, as though the entire discussion was an inconvenience rather than an interrogation.
Naviel, too, had gone rigid in a way that betrayed far more than words ever could—hands clasped too neatly, shoulders squared, eyes darting just a fraction too often toward the shadows lining the walls.
Elyn folded her arms. "Oh really?" she asked them.
"Yes," they responded immediately, nodding their heads in sync.
Elyn nodded too, taking it in, then she smiled at them. "Too bad I don’t believe you guys," she told them.
The words were calm, almost conversational even, but they had the effect she wanted them to have.
Zorathys blinked. "You don’t—"
"I don’t believe that Ignivar is asleep," Elyn continued, cutting him off without even looking at him. Her gaze remained fixed on Naviel, who wished she’d turn it back to the king.
He was scared of Zorathys, but he was also scared of Elyn. She gave him a sharp and unimpressed look that made him sweat—and Naviel did not sweat... ever.
"Isn’t it too much of a coincidence that Naviel was asleep before and now Ignivar is asleep too?" Elyn asked.
Zorathys swallowed nervously, Naviel copying his action.
"Firefly," Zorathys began. "You know... Ignivar and Naviel have been working hard for the past few days, and any chance they get to sleep, they use it—and I let them too."
Naviel stared at Zorathys in shock. "That’s a l—" He paused when he noticed the glare Zorathys gave him.
His shadows on the wall transformed into a guillotine.
Naviel swallowed nervously.
"The king is very right. Miraculously, extremely, perfectly right," Naviel said, then nodded as if he was convincing himself of the fact. "He’s right. He lets us sleep after making us work like sacrificial lambs."
Zorathys nodded. "See, Firefly, you are overthinking this. Ignivar is sleeping, and we are absolutely not lying about that."
She turned her head slowly toward him, and he swallowed audibly.
"Summon Ignivar," Elyn said flatly. "Right now. Bring him to this hall so I can ask him myself who decided to move forward with an event of that scale—one that apparently centers around me—without my knowledge."
The temperature in the room shifted.
Zorathys’s shadows reacted instantly, dark tendrils twitching along the edges of the walls like living things sensing danger. One of them moved discreetly, ensuring that Elyn didn’t see it, and pinched Naviel hard.
Naviel stiffened, his breath hitching just slightly as the shadow dug in again, sharper this time.
Zorathys didn’t look at him. He pretended like he had no idea what was going on, but Naviel got the message: say something.
He adjusted his glasses carefully.
"Your Highness must understand," he began, his tone smooth but strained, "that Ignivar... does not react well to having his sleep disturbed."
Elyn raised an eyebrow and turned back to him.
"Oh?" she asked.
Naviel pressed on quickly, clearly sensing that hesitation would be fatal. "There was an incident once," he said, "when even His Majesty summoned Ignivar for work while he was asleep. Ignivar was... displeased."
Zorathys nodded gravely in support, as if recalling a near-apocalyptic tragedy.
"He nearly burned down the entire realm," Naviel added solemnly. "It was tragic, really."
The shadow gave Naviel a discreet thumbs-up and immediately returned before Elyn could notice.
Elyn stared at Naviel for a while, and then she laughed.
It wasn’t loud or mocking—just a short, incredulous sound, like someone who had just been told the sky was green.
"Oh," she said. "I see. Ignivar must love his sleep."
Naviel nodded. "He really does. He almost burned down the Hellfire Territory one time too. It was tragic, and this was all because someone woke him up from his slumber."
Elyn nodded in understanding. "Are Ignivar and Zorathys the same person?" she asked.
Naviel frowned and adjusted his glasses. "Your Highness, I don’t—"
"You don’t understand?" she asked, cutting him off. "Let me explain then. Everyone knows that Zorathys is the one who hates when his sleep is disturbed. The whole realm does. And now you’re telling me Ignivar is apparently like that too? I’m wondering—are they the same?"
"We are... similar?" Zorathys offered weakly.
Elyn rolled her eyes but ignored him. Her gaze stayed on Naviel, who wished right now that he had stayed home.
"I know you’re lying," Elyn continued, her voice calm but unyielding. "Both of you. And I’m giving you one last chance to stop insulting my intelligence."
"Summon Ignivar," she said to Zorathys, staring at him now. "Or you can kiss his flop-flips, novels, and pajamas goodbye."
The effect was immediate.
Zorathys froze.
His eyes widened in genuine horror, his mouth falling open as though she had just threatened something sacred.
"My pajamas?" he whispered.
Elyn did not blink. "Every last one."
"My novels?"
Elyn nodded. "Every single one of them."
"That’s cruel," he said faintly. "Firefly, that’s—that’s crossing a line."
"I don’t care," she replied without hesitation. "Summon him. Now."
Zorathys looked as though he were contemplating all his life choices at once.
The shadows shifted uneasily, clearly in tune with him.
"Firefly, you will be making a huge mistake if we summon—"
"Your pajamas and flip-flops are on the line here," Elyn said, cutting him off.
Zorathys swallowed. "Yes, ma’am," he said suddenly, docile—but he didn’t make any effort to summon Ignivar.
There was no need to, though, because suddenly, someone cleared their throat politely.
Slowly, all three of them turned toward the source of the sound.
Ignivar stood near the entrance to the hall, tall and imposing, his expression unreadable. His eyes glinted faintly beneath dark lashes, his posture relaxed in the way only someone truly dangerous could afford to be.
And he was not alone.
One arm was occupied—holding someone close, secure, as if they belonged there.
Zorathys stared.
Naviel stared.
The shadows recoiled as if burned.
Together, at the exact same time, Zorathys and Naviel spoke.
"Why are you even in the palace?"