Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!-Chapter 97: The Boy Who Fell (1)

The Boy Who Fell

1

Astra examined the two viridian vials shimmering like emeralds. They were small enough to vanish in her cupped hands.

“Will this fix Elias?”

“I believe so,” Eydis said. “Envy’s been observing Melissa’s office activity all week.”

“Define observing.”

“With discretion.” Eydis smirked. “I’ve been tracking her progress ever since you mentioned the Council kept pulling her in.”

Astra glanced at the vials in her palm. “She’s making these for them?”

“Melissa’s a prodigy. Even she can’t keep burning mana through one patient at a time. The Council wants her intellect as much as her glowing hands.”

“Her father runs Le Bleu Labs on three continents. Makes sense. But I thought she was just an MD.”

“She is. Also defending her PhD.” Eydis sounded annoyed at herself for knowing it.

Astra tilted her head. “You’re impressed.”

“I’m certainly n—“

“Yes you are.” Astra’s voice was warm, teasing.

Eydis’s eyes flicked to hers, narrowing slightly before she relented with a sly smile. “Perhaps a touch. LBL’s had stabilisers in development for years. The concept isn’t new. I’m guessing she refined the formula for… this kind of problem.”

“She’s efficient.”

“Efficient enough to save us the trouble of abducting her and exposing Elias’s secret.” Eydis speared a glossy blackberry and popped it between her teeth. The juice stained her lower lip a deep wine-red.

Astra rested her chin on her hand, watching. Her smile was soft; her eyes, anything but.

Eydis caught the look. “You’re thinking I care.”

Astra’s eyes flicked to her lips. “You do.”

Eydis lifted another berry, touched it to Astra’s lips, and, with her free hand, traced the delicate ridge of Astra’s collarbone.

“Shapeshifters sit at the chaotic end of Nature. These vials should hold. Saves us a debate with Melissa and a meltdown from Adam,” Eydis said.

Astra accepted the berry, eyes locked on Eydis’s. Her lips sealed around Eydis’s long fingers, warm tongue slowly coiling around their tips. She pulled back an inch, rested the succulent fruit on her tongue, then crushed it.

The juice leaked down the corner of Astra’s mouth. She caught the dark trail with her thumb, dragged it along the seam of her lips, then sucked it clean. Eydis’s grip on her shoulder tightened, and Astra answered with a knowing smile, just smug enough to tease.

“Which is exactly why you waited days for her to get it right,” Astra said finally, “instead of kicking down her doors.”

“One… reason,” Eydis admitted, voice gone huskier than she liked. She paused a little too long, unintentionally and a bit distracted. “Primrose Dormitory empties out tomorrow. I do love a good suspenseful thriller.”

“Adam would call it pure horror,” Astra said, amused.

“Then what we’re offering is salvation. Enough to enlist Chimera’s help.”

Astra slid her hand into Eydis’s hair. She leaned in and traced the blackberry stain from Eydis’s lips, smiling when Eydis went perfectly still.

“Don’t start,” Eydis said quietly.

“Or?”

“Or we never make it out that door.”

Above them the wooden clock ticked toward three.

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“You want to head back to St Kevin’s?” Astra asked reluctantly. Her gaze dropped like she was already missing this.

And who was Eydis to disappoint her—

The single word girlfriend flashed through her thoughts, flooding her cheeks with heat.

“What is it?” Astra asked.

Eydis swallowed. “We don’t have to leave just yet.” She swung a leg over Astra’s lap, skirts bunching, thigh brushing thigh. “Adam can wait. And you were right.”

“About?”

“Moments that matter happen here.” She guided Astra’s chin up. “So why should we rush?”

Then she closed the gap, brushing the tip of her tongue along the rim of Astra’s ear. A raw sound escaped Astra as her nails dug into Eydis’s hips, gripping hard. The answering shiver thrilled them both.

Eydis closed what little distance remained, hips rolling against Astra’s until their wild heartbeats thudded through fabric and skin. Words escaped before thought could catch them.

“My Astra.”

My—

Saying it, then repeated it cracked something deep inside her. Her hands trembled, chest pulling tight, the simple word squeezing her heart as though it had waited a lifetime to be spoken.

Heat washed over her for reasons deeper than want. The thunder against her ribs was not only hers; Astra’s pulse raced in time. Scarlet eyes widened, gleaming with fierce affection that stole Eydis’s breath all over again.

“Are you saying,” Astra whispered, voice wavering, “that I’m—”

Eydis caught the unfinished question in another kiss, all tongue, teeth, need. Hearing the words would break her, so she silenced them.

Astra tensed, then melted, her sigh sliding into Eydis’s mouth. When they finally broke apart, foreheads touched, hands threaded through each other’s hair, bodies refusing distance.

“You fight dirty,” Astra murmured.

“I…” Eydis’s voice trailed off.

The silence said more than she could.

Astra gave a quiet smile. “You’re not ready to say everything. Neither am I. But you were right. Truth doesn’t need to be whole to be honest.”

Eydis let out the breath she had been clutching. The strange feeling ebbed, like half-forgotten memories retreating all at once. At last words failed her.

Astra nudged her. “Say something before I start panicking.”

“Don’t tell me you miss my voice.” Mischief returned to Eydis’s face.

Astra’s eyes sparkled with something close to a “yes,” but instead, she smirked. “Don’t flatter yourself, Your Majesty.”

It wasn’t a deflection. It was how she gave Eydis room to breathe. Speaking her feelings still felt like diving blind into deep water: full of wonder, full of risk.

The second hand on the clock ticked through the quiet. Astra’s gaze flicked to it, then to the vials on her desk.

“I thought of a way to catch Lust.” Her eyes lit. “We might not need the Obsidian Legion after all.”

Eydis raised a brow. “You said hacking Tweeter alone was basically gift-wrapping our location for the Council.”

“Exactly. The Council’s system is supposedly flawless. Most secure in the world. But you said it yourself: every system has a flaw,” Astra said. “And we happen to know someone who lives for finding them.”

Eydis surveyed the brilliant face before her. “That is… unfairly attractive, Your Highness.”

Astra’s shy chuckle was just as breathtaking.

“Let me guess,” Eydis murmured, already leaning close. “Chimera?”

Her whisper vanished beneath Astra’s kiss.

Adam paced back and forth outside his dorm room, restless, barely noticing the shampoo-slick air or the students dripping past from the showers.

He reread the text again, torn between calling his father or trusting that Eydis would actually show up, even though she was already an hour late.

A few familiar faces stopped to ask if he was okay, but he brushed them off with a polite nod, too tired to explain.

When Eydis and Astra finally rounded the corner and headed toward him, he nearly sagged in relief. Except they walked like time wasn’t running out.

“Oh, thank God!”

Keys rattled in his trembling hand; the dorm door banged wide. He shut it quickly behind them once they stepped inside. “Tell me you found a way. One that skips the white coats, the teacher, and especially the authori—”

“Adam.” Eydis’s calm smile barely stirred. “We gave our word. That still means something.”

“I get that. I do. It’s just… it’s been days. I kept him hydrated, but he hasn’t eaten. I was starting to think—”

“Isn’t Elias’s shapeshifting ability molecular?” Eydis’s head angled, curious.

“Yeah, but—”

“He can photosynthesise.” Astra said it dryly, her mouth twitching with restrained amusement.

Adam’s protest died when Astra pulled out an emerald-lit vial from her pocket. “What is that?”

“Mana stabiliser.” Eydis glanced at the willow dominating the dorm’s centre. Its leaves were ashen now, branches slumped, unlike the vibrant thing she remembered from her last visit.

Perhaps Adam’s panic wasn’t such an overreaction.

“Now,” she added, “we just have to figure out how to feed him.”

Without words, Astra uncorked the vial, and tipped its glow into the carpet.

Adam’s eyes widened. “Wait—what are you doing?”

“Relax.” Astra sighed, exasperated. “Trees drink from the roots. He’s not going to die.”

She scanned the room, taking in the yellowing leaves and swampy soil. “Unlike them. This is what plant murder by overwatering looks like,” she muttered, clearly annoyed.

Adam blinked. “But it’s not reacting.”

“It’ll take a few minutes to kick in,” Eydis said calmly.

Adam sank onto the bed, elbows on his knees, palms dragging down his face. “Sorry. I’m just—it’s been a lot. If anyone finds out Elias is Chimera… if they trace the hacks back to him…”

“So you’re admitting it?” Eydis asked.

Adam nodded. “If you meant harm, you would have alerted the authorities already, I see no point in hiding it anymore.”

A deep groan rolled through the room, cutting off their conversation. The willow trembled. Leaves fluttered as if caught in an invisible storm. Warm, golden light flickered across the ceiling as the branches stirred violently, casting ribbon-like shadows that danced along the walls.

Then the trunk split open, and green light spilled out. It wasn’t just light but a powerful surge of arcane energy. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

Astra’s hand sliced the air as a transparent shield snapped into place around the tree, locking the magic inside.

The willow convulsed. Branches twisted into limbs, bark stripped itself away in curling sheets and vanished. With a final crack of wood and bone, a boy fell out and dropped to the carpet.

Elias lay naked, long green hair streaming across the fibers like vines. His chest heaved once. Eyes rolled white, then closed.

“Elias!” Adam leaped to his feet.