He was staring at her like she was something precious he had almost lost.
Lin Yue did not know his name.
Did not know anything about him except what her fevered brain had pieced together from fragments.
This man in front of her was a prince and also the father of her child.
But looking at him now, she realized she did not need to know his name. She knew his eyes. She had looked into them right before she lost herself that night in the car. She had felt them on her even when she could not see them.
And now they were here, watching her with an intensity that made her heart stutter.
She moved slowly toward the glass.
Her body felt strange after the fever, heavy and light at the same time. The liquid in the tank made every movement feel dreamlike, delayed, like pushing through honey. But she drifted closer to him, closer to those gold eyes, until only the transparent barrier separated them.
She raised her hand and pressed her palm against the cool surface.
On the other side, he stood up so quickly the chair scraped against the floor. He was taller than she expected.
The training uniform did nothing to hide the strength in his shoulders, the lean muscle of someone who had spent his life preparing for battle.
But his approach was careful, measured, like he was approaching something fragile.
He placed his hand on the glass exactly where hers was.
His hand was larger than hers, the fingers longer, the palm broader. There were calluses on his skin, the kind that came from holding weapons, from years of training.
Through the glass, their hands lined up perfectly, separated by inches of transparent material that might as well have been miles.
The baby moved inside her.
A flutter, gentle but unmistakable. Like their child was saying hello.
His eyes widened.
She saw his throat move as he swallowed.
Neither of them spoke.
Neither of them moved. They just stood there, hands pressed together through the glass, connected by a life they had created together, staring at each other for the very first time.
Lin Yue did not know how long they stayed like that. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Time had stopped mattering the moment she saw his eyes.
Finally, his lips moved. She could not hear him through the glass, but she read the words.
"I am sorry."
They carried the weight of time she had spent alone, of pain she had endured without him, of moments they should have shared but had not.
She shook her head slowly.
She did not know what he was sorry for.
Did not care.
He was here now. That was what mattered.
She pressed her hand harder against the glass.
He pressed back.
And for the first time since she woke up on this strange planet, Lin Yue did not feel alone.
Uriel stared at her through the glass, his hand still pressed against hers, his gold eyes searching her face for any sign of lingering pain.
He reached out with his free hand and touched a panel on the side of the tank. A soft chime sounded, and suddenly she could hear him as clearly as if he were standing right beside her.
"Are you in any pain?" His voice came through speakers somewhere in the tank, deep and warm. "The chamber should have eased your symptoms, but I need to know if you are still hurting."
Lin Yue shook her head slowly. The movement felt strange underwater, her hair floating around her face in dark spirals.
Uriel nodded, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Are you alright? Truly?"
She nodded again, a small gesture.
He hesitated. Something flickered across his face.
Guilt, maybe. Or regret.
"I should have come to see you sooner." His voice was low, rough at the edges. "I thought about it. Every day, I thought about it. But taking that first step was harder than I expected."
Lin Yue's heart clenched.
She wanted to respond, wanted to tell him that she understood, that she was the one who had assaulted him, that he probably had not even wanted a child and she could not blame him for staying away.
The words piled up in her throat, desperate to come out.
But she was underwater.
She could not speak.
She could only float there, watching him, willing him to understand what she could not say.
Uriel must have seen something in her expression because his brow furrowed slightly. "You can speak if you wish. The water will not enter your body. The chamber has a built-in respiratory field that allows for normal breathing and speech. You are safe."
Lin Yue's eyes narrowed.
She looked at the water around her, at the way it moved and swirled, at the bubbles that occasionally drifted past her face.
Trusting alien technology that kept her submerged but not drowning felt like a terrible idea.
But she was in a high-tech world with flying cars and genetic modification and floating screens that talked to her.
This could not be the strangest thing she had encountered.
Uriel watched her internal debate.
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
"You are cautious. That is wise." A pause. "But I promise you, the chamber is safe. I would not let anything harm you or our child."
Our child.
The words echoed in her mind.
She took a breath.
Just a small one, testing it.
The water did not rush into her lungs. She could breathe normally, as if the liquid around her was nothing more than air.
She opened her mouth.
"I am sorry."
Her voice came out strange at first, muffled and distant.
But the speakers picked it up and projected it clearly into the room.
Uriel's eyebrows rose slightly.
Lin Yue pressed on, the words tumbling out now that she could speak. "I am the one who should apologize. I forced myself on you that night. You probably did not even want a child. I understand if you did not want to see me. I understand if you still do not want to see me."
Uriel stared at her.
For a long moment, he simply stared, his expression unreadable.
"You think I stayed away because I did not want this child?"
Lin Yue looked away, her gaze dropping to her floating hands. "It makes sense. I was a stranger who attacked you. Why would you want anything to do with me or some accidental baby?"