The throne room doors creaked open once more, and **Sixhonia** stepped inside.
Sun’s breath caught.
She was dressed in regal blues, her hair—**always left loose in the past**—now pinned tightly into a severe bun. Her face was pale, her dark eyes shadowed with exhaustion. And when she saw him, her lips trembled.
**"Sun,"** she whispered.
For a moment, the world stilled.
Then, she **ran.**
Not the graceful glide of a queen, but the desperate sprint of a woman who had waited too long. She crashed into him, her fists gripping his tunic as if she feared he would vanish again.
**"You idiot,"** she choked out, her voice muffled against his chest. **"You absolute fool."**
Sun’s arms wrapped around her instinctively, his fingers tangling in the fabric of her gown. He could feel her shaking.
**"I’m here,"** he murmured.
She pulled back just enough to glare at him, tears streaking her cheeks. **"You left. You *left* me here to deal with *that*—"** She jerked her chin toward where Glide had been dragged away. **"Do you have any idea what it’s been like?"**
Sun swallowed. **"I do now."**
Sixhonia’s anger faltered. She searched his face—the new scars, the rough stubble, the way his eyes held something darker, heavier than before.
**"You look terrible,"** she said finally.
Sun barked a laugh. **"I missed you too."**
She buried her face back into his chest, her next words so quiet only he could hear them.
**"Don’t ever do that again."**
He tightened his hold. **"I won’t."**
--
A delicate cough shattered the moment.
Sun and Sixhonia jerked apart to find **Sun’s mother, grandmother, and Lumina** standing in the doorway, frozen in various states of shock.
Lumina’s mouth hung open. **"Oh. So *that’s* happening."**
Sun’s mother, **Queen Mother Lana**, raised a single, imperious eyebrow. **"Are you quite finished, or shall we return later?"**
Sun straightened immediately, bowing his head. **"Mother. Grandmother. I—"**
**"You stink,"** his grandmother interrupted, wrinkling her nose. **"Like dirt and sweat and *farm animal.*"**
Lumina gagged dramatically. **"Yeah, brother, what is wrong? Did you *live* in a barn?"**
Sun opened his mouth—then closed it. **"...Yes."**
His mother’s face twisted in horror. **"Maids! *Now!* Draw a bath, prepare his oils, burn those rags he’s wearing—"**
**"Mother—"**
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
**"No. You do *not* get to argue. Look at you!"** She grabbed his arm, turning it over as if inspecting for disease. **"Calluses. Scars. *Dirt under your nails!*"**
Sun sighed. **"I’ve been working."**
**"You are a *king!*"**
**"Not a very good one,"** he muttered.
His grandmother snorted. **"Finally, something we agree on."**
Lumina, meanwhile, had sidled up to Sixhonia, whispering loudly, **"So. You and my brother, huh?"**
Sixhonia’s face turned scarlet.
---
As the maids descended on Sun like a swarm of well-dressed locusts, Lumina tugged at his sleeve.
**"Okay, but *seriously*,"** she pressed. **"Where did the lions come from?"**
Sun hesitated.
The truth was, he had used the last remnants of the **Spineless Brain’s power** to imprint his will upon them. To make them see him—and Goldmane—as their alpha.
But that was a secret.
So he smirked instead. **"I tamed them."**
Lumina stared. **"Wow! how? teach me please teach me Big brother Sun."**
Sixhonia crossed her arms. **"Sun. You can’t just drop *twenty-six lions* into the palace and not explain."**
Sun shrugged. **"I got bored."**
His grandmother groaned. **"Oh no someone save us from this boy."**
Goldmane, sprawled lazily at Sun’s feet, yawned—as if to say, *Yes, this is my life now.*
The royal baths were a sanctum of steam and luxury, scented with rare oils of sandalwood and myrrh. The maids worked with practiced precision, scrubbing away the grime of Sun’s self-imposed exile. Warm water cascaded over him as they massaged his scalp with **jasmine-infused soap**, rinsing away the remnants of his life as "Toma." A pumice stone smoothed the callouses on his hands, while **golden-honey salve** was applied to the fresh scars on his arms.
When he emerged, it was as if the past months had been washed away.
His hair, now trimmed and oiled, gleamed like molten copper in the candlelight. The maids dressed him in **layered robes of deep crimson and gold**, the fabric so fine it whispered against his skin. A **belt of lion-hide** cinched his waist, and over his shoulders, they draped a **cloak lined with the fur of a snow lynx**—a gift from the northern tribes.
As he stepped into the hall, the palace **stillened**.
Servants bowed. Guards straightened. Even the lions sprawled across the marble floors lifted their heads in acknowledgment.
**The King had returned.**
--
The throne room was packed. Nobles, merchants, and diplomats had all come to witness the **Lion King’s** resurgence.
Sun reclined on his throne, one leg draped lazily over the armrest, his fingers drumming against the carved lion heads. The **golden eyes of his pets** glinted from the shadows, watching.
Then came the **Hyen merchants**.
They swaggered in, draped in **wolf pelts and silver chains**, their noses lifted as if the very air of Waltonia was beneath them. Their leader, a sharp-faced man with a greased mustache, barely bowed.
**"King Sun,"** he said, voice slick with false deference. **"We bring a proposition from our princess. The finest wolf hides of the Hyen Kingdom—exclusive trade rights, for a modest fee, of course."**
Sun arched a brow. **"Modest?"**
The merchant smirked. **"Well, for a kingdom like yours... we can be *flexible*."**
A murmur of outrage rippled through the court. The insult was clear—*Waltonia is poor. Waltonia needs us.*
Sixhonia stiffened beside the throne, her fingers tightening around her fan.
Sun, however, merely **smiled**.
**"Interesting,"** he mused. **"But I think we’re fine."**
The merchant blinked. **"Your Majesty, surely you—"**
**"We have lions,"** Sun interrupted, gesturing to the beasts lounging nearby. **"Why would we need *wolf* hides?"**
The merchants exchanged glances.
**"Our furs are superior—"**
**"Are they?"** Sun tilted his head. **"Goldmane."**
The massive lion rose, stretching before padding toward the merchants. They **backpedaled**, eyes wide, as Goldmane sniffed at their cloaks—then **ripped one clean off with his teeth**, tossing it aside like garbage.
Sun smirked. **"Seems he disagrees."**
The court **erupted in laughter.**
---
### **Sixhonia’s Moment**
The merchants, red-faced, turned to Sixhonia.
**"My Queen,"** the leader pleaded, **"Surely you see the value in this alliance?"**
Sixhonia’s gaze flicked to Sun.
He gave her a **subtle nod**—*Your call.*
For a moment, she hesitated. Then, her spine straightened.
**"The only thing I see,"** she said coolly, **"is disrespect. You come into *our* court, insult *our* king, and still expect favor?"**
The merchants paled.
**"But—Princess—"**
**"Will understand,"** Sixhonia cut in, **"that Waltonia does not bargain with those who look down on us."** She flicked her wrist. **"Guards, escort them out."**
As the sputtering merchants were led away, Sun leaned toward her, voice low.
**"Well handled."**
Sixhonia’s lips twitched. **"Someone has to keep you out of trouble."**
Sun chuckled—but his eyes were warm.
For the first time in a long time, **he felt like a king.**
