( A hard plight in the depths of hell, but he has returned — bruised, battered, lessened by the wide scar that chases the better part of his back, and a lesser pair on his right arm. Claws, by the rumour of it.

The boyish looks of a young king have been successfully ground down. He allows Yelena to enter his quarters, despite the... natural suspicions that arose in wake of Haiva's... incident. He does not speak the words. Struggles, inevitably, for the required ounces of energy.

He is barely refitting his bandages, when the woman comes, the broad span on his back. Dismissing his healer, he waves Yelena over to tighten the sling. )

He will be remembered a hero. ( All hailed and beloved. )

I'm sure someone would have wanted that. ( Not Haiva, perhaps. Maybe Thyvault. )