Accompanied by the chirps of crickets and Douglas's hoggish snores, King scanned the room he was in. There were bits of changes here and there, but it was just like how he recalled his room to be. Well, old room.  

King pressed his cheekbone, gauging the pounding soreness from earlier. It stung, but not as much as it did before. Douglas had caught King before the latter could vanish beneath the river earlier. And after being washed down by the rapids, fortunate for the three, some of the Terra Madre's guards came across them while patrolling. 

"How are you feeling?" Pandora asked. She had gotten out of bed despite still feeling a bit sore, believing it'll strain her body more by lying down.

King sucked in air between clenched teeth. "Better," he answered. He propped his body into a sitting position and bit his lower lip when his bandaged leg throbbed. "You?"

"Nothing bad or worse." Pandora looked at Douglas, who was bedding down on the other bed.

King's gaze traveled to the door. "Where are they?" 

"They're still talking," Pandora replied, aware of who he was talking about. She flicked a hair away from her face and crossed her arms. "It seems like this is the first time an incident like this has happened."

King huffed. "Wow. Aren't we lucky?"

King and Pandora stopped when Douglas groaned and stretched. He sat upright, yawning, and glanced at them. "Why are you two still awake?" he groggily asked.

"Can't sleep," King sighed, stretching the blanket with his one foot.

"A quick jab in the face will make you so. Want me to do it for you?" Douglas snickered.

"How about a boot up your ass—"

There was a sudden firm knock on the door. The three broke into silence as they waited for the door to swing open. Their eyes widened when it did. Pandora bowed, and Douglas shuffled up to his feet to do the same. King frowned. The man of dark, dirty brown hair — Leon — waved a hand in acknowledgment, and the two raised their heads back. 

Leon looked identical to King, or you could say that King looked identical to him. He had this sort of invisible wall surrounding him and a face that usually didn't apply any emotions to it. He surveyed the youngsters, them and their bruises, from Douglas to Pandora to King, who struggled a bit to rise from the bed to deliver his courtesy. 

"Do not bother. There's no need," Leon stopped King. 

Six words from Leon were all it took to mess up with King's thoughts. Was his father's words a manifestation of caring? Or was it because King was no more a part of their pride, so he wasn't expected to adhere to their customs anymore? 

... Hah.

King clenched his jaw. Despite the pain he felt, he moved towards Leon and bowed. "I forgot that these are courtesies belonging solely to the pride's members. My apologies. But I still would like to deliver my respect."

Leon stared at the bowed head of the lad, which was contradictory to the rebellious fire that burned in King's eyes. Clearly, Leon knew that his action was an act of defiance instead and that King heightened its opacity intentionally just to irk him like he always did before. However, Leon made sure not to spare a reaction. "Very well," he uttered.

There was an uncomfortable pause in the room. Leon didn't gesture for King to stand back up like the other two, leaving the lad bowed as he paced around, eyeing corners while running his fingertip on a wooden surface of a dresser. "What have you been doing all these years?" he questioned.

"... Studying and working, sir," King countered.

"And from what I've heard, still trouble. I thought you'll grow out of that habit of yours." Leon let out a quiet sigh.

"... What do you know?"

Pandora stiffened, and Douglas' eyes nearly jumped out of his sockets. Leon stared back at King again.

"Why even ask? It's not like you care."

"... Are you talking back to me?"

"What if I am?"

Leon's jaw tightened. "Is this what you've been learning away from here? Learning how to improve your whines? Your insolence?"

King slightly snorted. "Maybe I got it from you—"

A loud slap echoed in the room. Despite their urge to interfere, Pandora and Douglas remained still.

Leon's gaze was bitter. "You have no shame. You are ungrateful," he spat. "I am grateful that you are not the one to inherit the title that you were regretfully named after."

King steadied his feet. Every bit of muscles in him tensed. His legs staggered and something in his inward burned, but he didn't falter. "The feeling's mutual."

There was silence yet again.

Leon remained his piercing eyes set on King, who still kept his head lowered in front of him. A few seconds later, Leon averted his gaze. He closed his eyes, sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I think it's time for all of us to come to a rest. Forgive my late disturbance." Leon then fixed his composure. "I am expecting your presence tomorrow. Meet us in the conference room after lunch."

"... Yes, King Leon," replied Pandora and Douglas. 

Leon then turned to leave. Midway out, he looked over his shoulder, perceiving the still bowed-down presence of his son. A frown built on his forehead, and he quietly sighed for the last time before finally leaving the room.

The door closed. After a few seconds, Pandora and Douglas went to King's side. King remained bent down, staggering and seething red. His fists were tight as a screw.

"King, he's gone," Douglas said, aiming to induce him to stand back up. But King didn't. Pandora patted King on the back, but it couldn't help the tears that escaped down his cheeks.