Lanesirus's sky-blue eyes peered beyond his reflection through the window, sight pinned on the blazing sphere halfway dipped into the horizon, its orange rays delicately tinting his sharp features.

His ringed fingers slipped through the buttons of his vest, digging under his shirt, tracing the ridges of the sun pendant underneath.

He watched the light poles simultaneously illuminate the sides of the road, leading yet another carriage into the palace.

What was the need for such an extravagant gathering when they could have privately celebrated as a family?

A sigh escaped his lungs, turning at the busy hall where his mother delightfully chatted with her guests, his sight traveling between their faces, finally landing on Astarus's laughing with the prime minister.

His heart leaped.

Her resemblance to Suarus was remarkable.

A coquettish smile arched her crimson lips, catching his gaze for a moment before he turned, demanding a drink from the servant attentively standing by, goblet-filled silver tray in hand.

His lips met the chill of the crystal, heedless of the nearing footsteps, sipping its fruity content.

'Congratulations once again on your assigning, Lanesirus,' said Astarus over the shrill ring of men's laughter.

'Thank you.' he replied, dodging her.

'The men in this hall spoke highly of your performance at the ceremony today, especially of the sword oath. I wish the rest of us could've seen it as well.'

He nodded, eyes fixated on the goblet in his hand.

'Only if Suarus was here.'

His jaw clenched.

'The joy of this celebrating would've been completed.' Her eyes glimmered, corners of her mouth lifted in a sly smile as she felt the change in his aura.

'Is she well? Can we visit her in Rosdin?' she added, delicately swirling the wine left in her glass.

'She's much better, recovering as we speak.' His voice came out harsher than he had intended, grip tightening around the stem of his goblet.

'Oh, Astarus, finally, I found you!' said Nelus, joining them, 'I was searching all over for you.'

'Me? What for?'

'Your dress!'

'My...dress?'

'Yes! The girls were talking about your dress and how beautiful it is. It escalated to betting one another on its tailoring house. I had to win that bet, so quick, tell me who made it?'

A muffled laugh escaped Astarus, a hand over her mouth, 'This is absurd! A bet over my dress, seriously!'

Nelus stole a glance at her brother, her attention returning on Astarus, 'Yes! And I need to win it, so be quick, spill the beans before I am spotted speaking to you!'

Chance ceased; Lanesirus excused himself, marching out of the busy hall into the quietness of the back garden.

The marble-carved fountain softly trickled, crickets chirping at dusk, the dull sound of music in the background.

Lanesirus thirstily gulped the remaining wine, releasing a satisfactory groan, wiping his mouth with the back of his bandaged hand.

His stomach tightened. He could not bear meeting anyone else. He craved the solitude traveling to Dunvakan would provide. Far away from the capital and the memories it held.

He looked down at his hand, noticing the hints of red surfacing the wrapped gauze, grip clenched at the recollection of his weakest moments.

The door behind him opened, light and music flooding the veranda where he stood, closing again.

He released a deep sigh, head lowered, hoping that whoever it was would return to where they came from.

'Lanesirus.' Astarus's silky voice called, forcing him to turn.

Her greyish-blue eyes caught sight of his bandaged hand. 'Are you hurt?' she asked, rushing closer, reaching for his large hand, carefully inspecting it before meeting his dark gaze. 'It needs changing, the bandages.'

He pulled his hand, holding it with his other, 'I'll change it later. There is no need to be concerned.' He took a step away, 'If you'd excuse me, Princess, I've recalled an urgent matter that I need to attend to.'

'Wait!' she pleaded, 'Lanesirus... can we speak, privately?'

He scanned the patio, 'Talk, we're alone.'

She looked around, glancing at the busy guests behind the elongated windows, 'I can't talk here; let's go somewhere else.'

Lanesisrus's gaze burned, a decision brewing within the clarity of its blue.

Astarus braced herself for a humiliating rejection when his extended hand left her breathless, pointing at the glasshouse in the middle of the garden.

'After you.'

In disbelief, she turned her back at him, leading the way down the steps onto the grass, her heart thudding beneath her vocal cords.

She coyly paused by the house, feeling the dampness of her dress's hem touching her legs, embellished golden metal of the door reflecting the moonlight.

She flinched at the snap of his finger—lights of the glasshouse illuminated before entering.

The door clicked closed behind him, and he turned facing her, 'What is it you wished to speak of?'

She hemmed, twirling the ring around her forefinger, 'Your assigning came in time, Dunvaka is an important state and—'

'Are we going to speak of my assigning?' he cut her off, 'I thought there was a more pressing matter you wished to speak of?' He leaned his back to the door, arms crossed over his chest.

'What's wrong with you?' she blurted, her breathing intensified, 'You... you can't stand the words I say, do you hate me that much?' her voice shook.

'I do not hate you, Astarus.' he replied, turning away.

'Then why—' she drew close, 'Why do you repulse me so? What have I done to deserve such treatment? I am not asking you to love me, Lanesirus, for I know I've lost that battle...All I want from you is to acknowledge my existence!'

Lanesirus studied her as if looking at her for the first time. Under that first layer of resemblance between her and Suarus lay another. A face he had never seen before.

Her defiant gaze did not break from his, overflowing with both tears and emotions.

The golden bangles around her wrist clattered as her hand traveled, resting above her chest, directing Lanesirus's attention to the roundness of her plump breasts peaking at him.

'Astarus...' he murmured, turning away his gaze, unwinding his arms, 'I apologize... for all the pain I've caused you...'

A frown crossed her brows, 'She doesn't deserve your love...'

He looked up at her.

'Not after what she's done!'

He fought the desire to strike her beautiful face.

'How—'

'It doesn't matter how I knew,' she took a step closer, 'what matters is that it's true.'

'Even if it was. I won't allow speaking of her that way.'

'How dare you idolize her after her betrayal to you and the realm!'

Furey coursed through his veins, glaring at her, biting down his jaw.

Astarus drew closer, her face close to his, a tight grip on his vest tugged medals rattling. She lifted herself, standing on her toes.

'Can't you see, Lanesirus,' she whispered, 'It's me who truly loves you? Who'd willingly sacrifice this whole realm, this whole existence for a single moment spent with you...' she tugged harder, 'this rage, this anger—' tears trickled down her cheeks, 'I'll rid you of it as if it never existed...all of it.'

With the last whisper, she leaned forward, pressing her lips onto his.

He wanted to resist, to stop her, to push her away, but he found himself yielding to the ardent desire pulsing in him.

His lips softened, opening up for her, devouring her in return, fingers buried into her hair.

Astarus shuddered under his touch, his hand tracing down her neck before brushing against her back, finally wrapping around her waist.

Suarus dimmed in the heat of muffled moans and smacking kisses, the thought of her diminishing along with guilt, the man Lanesirus had become liberated.