Chapter 892: A little joy for someone who is hurting.
The morning in the Celestial Capital dawned bright and cold, with a clear sky pierced by high currents of golden clouds. After the turbulent dawn in the palace, when Ouroboros had awakened in tears and shaken even the most resilient among his companions, the sunrise seemed to carry a strange gentleness. The city beneath the imperial walls was already awakening at a steady pace. Merchants erected tents, coachmen guided loaded carts, apprentices swept the light-colored stone sidewalks, and the smell of freshly baked bread began to compete with the perfume of flowers hanging in the suspended gardens.
Strax and Ouroboros walked among the crowd as if they were ordinary people.
The magic of disguise concealed them both with elegant efficiency. Strax now appeared as a tall man with short brown hair, a discreet beard, and less striking features, dressed in the simple clothes of a wealthy traveler. Ouroboros had assumed the appearance of a young woman with black hair tied in a long braid, grey eyes, and soft features, wearing a dark blue coat over a modest dress. No imperial soldier, no observant spy, and no curious onlooker would recognize these two as the most dangerous figures residing within the palace itself.
Yet, anyone observing them closely would notice something particular between them. Strax kept pace with hers without even thinking about it. Ouroboros walked close enough that their shoulders occasionally touched. There was intimacy in their silence, even when no words were spoken.
Ouroboros seemed better than hours before, but not entirely well. Her eyes carried residual weariness, and sometimes her gaze would wander for a few seconds to random points in the city. The crisis of the early morning had passed, but it had left invisible marks. Strax noticed them all.
That’s why he had insisted they go out alone.
Without Scarlett laughing at everything. Without Tiamat trying to resolve emotions with her fists. Without the weight of the palace walls or the political gazes hidden behind columns.
Just the two of them.
"You’re overthinking it again," said Strax, as they dodged a group of children chasing a rag ball. "I always overthink things."
"Yes, but today you’re doing it with professional dedication."
Ouroboros gave him a sideways glance. Though discreet, there was almost a smile trying to form there.
"You think you’re funny."
"I don’t think so. I have external confirmation."
"From whom?"
"From myself. A reliable source."
She let out a small nasal sound that barely amounted to a laugh, but Strax noticed it. He kept it as a personal victory.
The capital’s main avenue was wide and adorned with ancient statues, geometric fountains, and white-crowned trees whose leaves shimmered in the sun. Elegant shops opened with carved wooden doors. Street vendors hawked candied fruits, imported fabrics, and small lucky charms blessed by local priests. On upper balconies, musicians tuned stringed instruments to the day’s rhythm.
Ouroboros observed everything with silent attention.
"Beautiful city," he commented.
"It is." "You seem disappointed about this."
"Beautiful cities usually hide bureaucrats."
She finally smiled genuinely, albeit briefly.
"That was strangely specific."
"Accumulated experience."
Strax led her off the main avenue, into a less busy side street where small cafes lined up under light awnings and flower boxes. He chose a discreet spot with outdoor tables overlooking a small square where artisans set up stalls.
They sat facing each other.
A server came quickly, and Strax ordered without hesitation two hot drinks, filled breads, and assorted pastries as if he knew the entire menu.
"Have you been here before?" Ouroboros asked.
"No."
"Then how did you choose so quickly?"
"I observed what the happy customers were eating."
She stared at him for a second.
"That’s... clever." "Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain."
When the food arrived, Ouroboros noticed that everything was exactly the kind she preferred: less sugary, light pasta, hot drinks with mild spices.
She slowly raised her eyes.
"Did you ask Scarlett?"
"Offensive."
"Then you asked Tiamat?"
"Even more offensive."
"How did you know?"
Strax shrugged.
"I pay attention."
That struck her silently and deeply.
Many people admired Ouroboros for her intelligence, consulted her usefulness, respected her abilities. Few simply paid attention to her as a person. The way she held cups when she was nervous. The type of flavor she chose when sad. The fact that she chewed slowly when she was thinking too much.
She lowered her gaze to hide her sudden emotion.
Strax noticed this too, and wisely pretended not to.
A few minutes passed as they ate in relative peace. The square ahead came alive. A painter displayed paintings of seascapes. A couple discussed the price of carpets. A woman fed birds crumbs and complained about them at the same time.
"About this morning," Ouroboros began.
"No need."
"Yes, I do."
Strax leaned back in his chair.
"Then speak."
She held the cup in her hands.
"I felt weak."
"You were hurt."
"Not physically."
"Not every wound needs to bleed."
Ouroboros took a deep breath.
"I hate losing control."
"I know."
"I hate feeling... broken."
Strax leaned slightly forward.
"Look at me."
She obeyed.
"You didn’t look broken. You looked like someone suffering."
"To me, it looks similar."
"Then your standard is wrong."
Ouroboros remained silent.
Strax continued in a calm voice.
"You spend too much time being the most prepared in the room. The most lucid. The one who anticipates everything. The one who holds the rest of us together when we turn into idiots." He pointed to himself. "Especially me."
"Often."
"Thank you for your honesty. The point is: when someone like that falls, they think they’ve become ruined." He shook his head. "But sometimes they just get tired."
Her words took a while to come out.
"What if there’s really something wrong with me?"
"Then we figure it out together."
"What if I get worse?"
"Then I become a problem for anyone who tries to take advantage of me."
"What if I become a burden?"
Strax seemed genuinely offended.
"Don’t say absurd things before the coffee is finished."
She let out an involuntary, small, clear laugh.
This time Strax smiled openly.
"I’ll keep that one."
They finished their meal and continued walking. The city’s activity had increased, but the magic between them remained intact. They crossed spice markets, streets of tailors, alleys with booksellers, and small chapels where delicate bells rang every hour.
Strax bought her a small bracelet made of intertwined silver metal.
Ouroboros raised an eyebrow.
"That’s extremely sentimental."
"Yes."
"Are you alright?"
"No. I’m trying."
She twirled the bracelet between her fingers. It was simple, elegant, and beautiful.
"Thank you."
"If you don’t like it, I can threaten the craftsman."
"I like it."
He took her hand and placed the bracelet on her wrist with surprising care. The touch lingered a second longer than necessary. Neither of them commented on it.
They walked to an arched bridge over the capital’s inner canals. The water reflected bright facades and colorful pennants strung between buildings. Small boats carried goods and passengers, guided by experienced rowers.
They leaned against the railing.
Ouroboros watched the water flow by.
"I dreamt I was chasing something impossible to reach."
Strax remained beside her.
"Maybe because you’re always trying to solve everything."
"Maybe."
"Maybe you’re chasing responsibilities that aren’t even yours."
She turned her face slowly.
"That was too profound for someone who threatens bureaucrats."
"I’m complex."
"It’s annoying."
"Thank you."
The wind blew colder. Strax took off his outer coat and placed it over her shoulders without asking permission.
"You’ll get cold."
"I’m a dragon."
"You’re dramatic too."
"Me too."
They continued walking to a higher area of the city, where public gardens spread out in successive terraces. Rare flowers grew in circular patterns, and stone benches offered views of the entire capital. From there, they could see palace towers, distant markets, and outer walls shimmering in the sun.
They sat down under a tree with silvery leaves.
For a while, they just stayed there.
Ouroboros rested her head on his shoulder unceremoniously. Strax remained still so as not to interrupt the gesture.
"You know you’re bad at this, don’t you?" she murmured.
"At what?"
"Comforting people."
"Am I doing badly?"
"Strangely well."
"Excellent. I’ll add it to my resume." She closed her eyes.
"Thank you for hugging me so quickly."
Strax replied after a few seconds.
"I was scared."
"You?"
"Yes."
"About what?"
He looked at the city below.
"About not knowing how to help you."
Her honesty surprised him.
Ouroboros raised her head to look at him.
"You helped."
"Good."
"More than you imagine."
Strax nodded as if receiving an operational report.
"Great."
She laughed again.
The sound was now softer.
Later, they descended to the artistic neighborhoods, where musicians played on street corners and actors performed improvised comedic pieces. Strax insisted on participating in a throwing game to win a ridiculous prize and lost three times in a row due to overconfidence.
Ouroboros laughed so hard she had to lean on a nearby stall.
"You’re terrible at this."
"The target is sabotaged."
"The target won’t move."
"Exactly. Counterintuitive."
On the fourth attempt, he won and received a small, poorly carved wooden dragon.
He solemnly handed it to her.
"A faithful representation of me."
"It’s crooked."
"Abstract art."
She accepted the object, still laughing.
At the end of the afternoon, they walked back through less crowded streets. The sky took on golden and pink hues, and lanterns began to be lit one by one in the doorways of the houses. The city seemed more welcoming at that hour, less imperial, more human.
Ouroboros seemed different too.
Not completely healed. Not magically free from what she had felt.
But lighter.
More present.
As they approached a staircase leading to the reserved wing of the palace, she stopped.
"Strax."
"Hmm?"
"If I have another night like that..."
"You’ll wake me up."
"And what if I can’t?"
He moved closer and lightly touched her forehead with his, repeating the gesture from the early morning.
"Then I’ll wake up on my own."
Her eyes discreetly welled up, but this time not from pain.
"You’re better at this than you think."
"I know."
"Arrogant."
"Consistent."
She kissed him before he could continue.
It was a calm kiss, without urgency, full of gratitude and affection built up in the small gestures of the whole day. When she pulled away, there was color in her face and peace in her eyes.
Strax blinked once.
"Does that count as a positive evaluation?"
"It counts as encouragement."
"I can work with that."
She held his hand as they resumed their walk.
And so, between magical disguises, ordinary streets, and a day spent trying to make her smile, Strax achieved something that battles, titles, and powers rarely accomplished.
He made Ouroboros feel safe again.
