"Fuck looking for love
I'ma stay doing what us bitches do best
Flip a switch on a prick and I
Come alive in the nighttime"
Flip a Switch - Raye

(Another Leila theme song so listen for bad bitch vibes this chapter. Also this book is "three" parts if you go back and look at the first chapter and the 22nd. I just added it ;))

Spice-O-Meter: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️(i had to keep coming back and adding more lmfao)

Part III. A Tale of Night, Sun, & the Witch

🌹

The next month of spring was suckled from the vestiges of Winter. Barricaded iciness was swept away with a sweet wind and carried by a romantic swell.

They allowed themselves a month of reprieve.

A measly, fickle month of the flesh.

They used every last moment like ambrosia. Taking and consuming each other like the last drops of wine from an oak-aged barrel.

A month. Carried in with the tide of promising, the shore of tomorrow. To engorge on each other, to get rid of the initial pull of their desires. To clear their heads of their wants, in order to face their adversaries head on. Darkness loomed, and instead of fighting it in droves, they bathed in moonlight and forget-me-nots.

A month. They promised. They prayed. They hoped and battled. They gasped between stolen breaths and red paths scratched through skin.

It wasn't enough.

It was peppered with kisses of the lightest forgiving. In which apologies swept past Leila's lips and onto that of the Prince. He received them, and offered back words and touches of tenfold.

The prince had been forgiven. Leila couldn't refuse his genuine remorse, as he traced them onto every part of her body. Through late nights of tears, and more often laughter filled embraces. They stayed in their private quarters, away from everyone. Official duties and hunts canceled as she allowed him to feed from her to sustain everyone else, in between pit-less regrets and sorrows. They talked about how cruel he had been. They talked about how Leila showed even less mercy in return. They talked of their favorite flowers, their favorite colors in descending order, human food Leila thought to be as appetizing as he found her blood to be. Spoke of what it meant to live in world that wished to be brought to light. Why the prince took the eyes of that man who looked at her, and why no one had batted an eye. Pomegranate under his touch, he bled her until she would bend under his touch. Begging for more, more. The prince only allowing the silver ichor to fill his mouth because it kept everyone else away from their midnight and crowned chambers.

And because Leila arched and grabbed at him, urging him closer with ever siphon.

They learned each other to their foundations. Rebuilt themselves and what they knew stone by carved stone. Reworking and etching novel discoveries, as they shed their outer skins.

Taehyung, offering regrettably that during his time away from her that he could think of nothing else. To which Leila scoffed in the late hours, as they sat by her large window and out at the sea. A sheet wrapped around them, as she told him all of what she knew. Of Setareh's vision, of Jeongguk's admittance to her. Of the nobles behavior, of Jimin's affections. They even went through all of her dreams from Sorina from start to finish. The pieces they had collected in congruence with the curse, the poem, and the stained glass. Everything.

Almost everything.

Leila still held onto Lily and her translation of the book. Kept it locked in the confines of shadow in her mind. A repayment to the prince for what he had kept from her, and his plans to reveal the sun and break the curse of the Immortui.

In their month, the prince had mentioned no particular suspicion. Even though he had detailed Jimin's true want of her, he had not done so other than with envy and disappointment. Not betrayal. Leila had been shocked, to hear the word love pass from lips. And she didn't have the capacity to tell the prince he must be wrong. Because Jimin just couldn't love her.

And something in her chest told her to keep Lily's secret to herself. Some primal pause that held her tongue every time their suspicions slipped through the cracks. Leila had yet to reconvene with her friend, in their un-interrupted solitude. Whatever information the woman gathered, Leila would tell the prince. Just not of it's origin. If the information aligned with what they suspected, Lily would be one step closer of being exalted from treachery.

"I think Immortui were created at the time of the curse. Or we started the curse ourselves." Taehyung had whispered into her hair tentatively. Afraid to be wrong. Afraid to be right.

Leila had come to the same conclusion. The stained glass, the imagery of vipers around the castle. The black sun aside from a man bitten, in both colored images and along sketches of an ancient book. But she felt his shuddering breath, and new that whatever ancestor was depicted in that frame haunted the prince. A direct descendant.

Guilt, as possible being descended from a person who had turned the world to endless night. It was a possibility neither could deny.

So Leila didn't, instead, trailing a line of fire up his chest until he grabbed her by the throat and silenced her words with his lips, his tongue.

It was not yet time to care. To accept their reality, to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

No, instead their worries were carried away with peony and warmth.

With every bend and trace, they found out new truths.

Two weeks in, and Taehyung had woken her up and sent her to sleep every single day and night with his raven head between her thighs. His shoulder blades carved by night and moon as his mouth worked against her.

"Why do you like it so much?" Leila had asked again breathlessly, her body spread across the lavender of her newly washed sheets.

She had asked many times. He had given many answers, and still it made little sense to her. Even in the books she read, it seemed like men were the ones receiving all the pleasure with little repentance. The prince would say sweet things, like he liked her taste. Like he liked making her feel good more than he needed her touch. Little things like how he took her blood, so he wished to take her rapture.

"What is there not to like?" He said that day, cocking his head. Licking his lips as he had finished with her, still netted between her legs.

Leila played with a lock of his hair that fell in front of his shaded eyes, "I'm being serious."

His smile turned secret, hemlock. Taking her breath, as he pressed his lips against her inner thigh. "Because it's all you could dream about when you first arrived." The prince drew his mouth over the same area he kissed, suckling until she began to flicker like an open flame, "And now I'm addicted."

She learned exactly what parts of him were the most sensitive. Exactly what parts made him break his vows of silence, though it didn't take much. He couldn't help but curse and say flowery things to her as they conjoined, a dichotomy of a man in torrent love. In which he both lived and died by her word, her mind, and her body. The man who had been so closed before was now a volatile storm waiting to flood her, to lay his hidden thoughts and to carve them into the bed posts by her head and the sheets under her heart.

Three weeks, and maybe some days. The salt from the sea seemed to invigorate them both to insatiable heights. The dull ache that had started in her center left and bloomed to needy throb, only thwarted by the oh-so-giving prince of the eclipse.

Leila still took her time, taking clay from the man who could not meet her eyes, to the man who only looked into them as their bodies met over and over.

She had been on her back, and the prince lifted her hips, creating a new angle between them she did not know existed. Groaning as he sat full in her, a sound she that sent a pang from him to her rib cage. He was beautiful, as his onyx eyes drank her in more than his throat ever could.

The princess's eyes fluttered every time he found his navel brushed flat against her own. Every stroke, harder and harder. He had admitted in the days before, that he would think of her every night before they started their illicit couplings. Of what exact touches she liked, what exactly made her fracture the hardest. How he would take himself at the thought of her, in the hopes he would better be prepared to last. How even the way she breathed made him closer and closer to the edge when he was joined with her.

Her head had flung back, her body curved into him.

"Look at me Leila."

She couldn't, her body moved in ecstasy, and without thought or reason. She could not control her head falling to the side. Her thoughts, her words.

"I-I prince-"

He lifts his hand, placing it across her throat and under her chin. Tenderly, he turns her head so that her eyes meet with his. Under they burn and buries himself into her. His mouth falls open to mirror her parted lips, a new fervency in his movements as he slows the pace. His stroke slow as he connects them once again, tying her gaze to his face in awe.

"Look at me Ignis. Look at what you do to me." His words were a slow slur that just clung to sanity. They yearned for her, "I want to see how I make you come apart onto me."

Leila could look away no longer. And she discovered in those moments, when he bit his bottom lip and swore at the gods, when he swore himself to her, that he needed to see her moonlight eyes to come back down to earth.

After they met their end, the prince ordered tea to their room. Leila requested for Lily's concoction. They had sat together, content as they enjoyed their quiet time, their chests that beat similar tunes.

"We need to trace the Queen's family tree."

The prince nodded, his face catching the silver light.

And with some more restless days, they visited the outside world. Leila had wondered, though their month was not yet over, why no soul littered the halls.

"I sent many away to their neighboring homes. On errands, on leave. The nobles needed to go back to their prospective dominions, and speak of what we decided during the spring council. Everyone else?" The prince clicked his teeth, his eyes dragging over her form, "I couldn't care less."

Leila ignored the delicious twist of her stomach, the mischievous expression on his pretty face, as she lifted herself to open the library doors. His body was close to hers, the heat of him seeping into her back.

The tension continued, as they spent hours rifling through old books, through old family trees that were written in Tenebrian and Romanian. They sat, their materials sprawled along the long wooden table where the prince had first tutored her. His hands would brush against her own, cheeks heating as he would translate the word into Farsi or Tenebrian for her in a husky tone. Every time he did so, his chair would shriek closer to hers. His thigh now pressed entirely into her own.

The Queen had a small family tree. It started with her, which the prince stated must have been due to the lack of records from previous generations. Neither parents were described. Leila took in the small portrait of the woman, beautiful and yet terrible. Recognizing the stark white hair, large downturned milky blue eyes, and severe expression. From what the prince knew, her family had been settled in this region for many years, and her pale expression was further proof.

Taehyung was underneath her. His portrait not yet filled in.

They searched more, finding discarded scrolls in the back of the library. Ones that hadn't been touched in years, for the prince blew an entire sheet of dust off of them.

These scrolls detailed those with lesser powers, Celaestian beings. Taehyung explained that it was possible his mother kept them hidden out of shame of her family line being less powerful than she. Or, in a more sinister way, hid these scrolls in order to keep her relation to Clarisse and Bianca a secret.

"So Clarisse was her sister? And Bianca was Clarisse's daughter."

The prince nodded his head sternly.

Leila reiterated, "And Jeongguk is Bianca's son? So that means the only direct descendent we have of their family is him? And you. Jimin and Lily were just adoptive children of Clarisse, so not blood related."

They did not even know if it mattered to be blood related. Leila's curse passed from Sorina to her only from their shared blessing from the moon deity in their genealogy. Taehyung's curse passed directly from his father to him. Was it the same for the other two corner's of the curse? Could it have only been a coincidence that Bianca and the Queen were related?

Worse yet, was their participation a choice and not a compulsion?

The prince shook his head to agree once more, his face contorting, "Clarisse died when we were twelve years old. I wonder-"

"If her death is related. Could it be that she was meant to be Dawn? And she did not wish to betray Sorina, who had been her friend for years? I am sure she respected the King as well."

The prince's eyes lightened, mystified, "Exactly that. My Leila, my night, our month is not yet over." The princess swallowed in anticipation, her eyes finding his own.

So many thoughts rushing between them. The frightening thought that the only other descendent was Jeongguk, their suspected alliance. The future seemed as dark as ever.

The prince did not fold to it, instead brushing his hand across her chest, nipping her ear with his teeth as he whispered, "Why don't you get up on the table and open your legs for me."

Her chest flushed with his command. She felt the honey of it burst into her mouth, and she couldn't help but torture more from him. Leila lifted herself from him, his dark eyes tracking her the entire time as she slid the books and scrolls away from them to create room. She sat back on her hands, her palms hot against the coldness of the oak. Taehyung got to his knees, his expression heated as he already started pressing his warm, desperate mouth onto her skin. His hollowed cheeks already red from suppressed lust.

Until the princess pressed her foot onto his chest, pushing him back into the chair.

"Did I say you could?"

The prince looked at her, mouth gaping until it became blighted. He stood, eyeing her carefully as he did so. She watched, her breaths quickening as his eyes glittered darkly in the dim light of the library.

He then slammed his hands next to her on the table, forcing her body to cave backwards. He stepped between her thighs, using the point of his knee to do so. Her center ached, filling with a never ending heat that was ceaseless in his presence.

He bit his lips, his fangs lengthening. The prince did not pay attention to it's sharpness as it drew gold from him, his attentions all on the woman before him. Leila watched, transfixed and her seduction forgotten as he leaned even closer.

"Will you deny me this Leila?" His voice dropped lower, tone heady, "Will you deny me your taste."

We only have days left.

Leila pulled his body onto hers. The man cursed into her mouth, the sweetness of his blood coating her lips. They were a mixture of gold and flush, as he pressed his aroused mouth onto her. The man swiped at the books on the table, laying her back flat onto the oak.

And as she looked into the designs on the ceiling she hadn't noticed, depictions of the skies in gold detail. She wondered if they got it all wrong.

"Heavenly." Taehyung gasped out, as he pulled her onto his body. Sinking into her.

Being alive as a human on earth was much more to aspire to.

They woke up today with a feeling of bitterness and longing on the tongue. The window was open, letting in the calmest of breezes. Leila lay with her chest on the bed, the prince's hand following the small bumps along her spine. He liked to feel them. From the top of her neck, to the base where little dimples formed.

He swirled over one, as the hair arose on her body.

"It's been a month, Taehyung." Her voice was as abrasive as the salt-tainted wind. More waves crashed. She counted. Ten times, before the prince even offered a response.

She didn't look at his face. Knowing he would be just as crestfallen. Because the end of their separate solace together mean they had to let go of everything else to hold onto each other.

"Has it?" The prince questioned too casually, his hand continuing it's commonly traveled path. The other divot, and then across her lower back. Back around to the top of her spine.

Leila took a deep breath, preparing herself to be brave. She flipped her body, greeting the prince and the air. She pulled her purple sheets up over her body, sinking deeper into his scent and warmth. As the seasons changed, he had turned from snow to a coastal aura. His darkness now like black sand under her feet, to which she wished to wade through forever.

His eyes were downcast, their path to her much slower than his hand, which remained in the curve of her waist as her head rested on her hand.

"You know we have to go back to our life. We already have lost so much time."

"But how can we? How can I pretend to care about anything else other than you? I will never know another day, of waking up beside you to the sound of an ocean. Remembering every line of you so I can trace you in my sleep, just to wake up and make sure every measurement was true. How can I live another day where we worry of nothing else, but holding each other like this?" Even as the prince said it, he knew his words were in vain, "How can I know anything but the moon on your skin, the salt turning your hair into spirals, and the sweetness of spring and myself on your skin?"

Change was coming. Whether they hid the rest of their lives. It was up to them, whether they faced it head on or let it barrel through the fortress of peace they created.

The space behind her eyes felt heavy, as she took in the height of his cheeks. The earring that dangled from his ear, his dark eyes that were shrouded by low, straight brows. The pith that threatened to fall from them, and onto her skin.

"We still can."

They could. They could wake up everyday, and plot against their friends. Their court. Destroy lives in an attempt to find out who bid them harm. Who could stab through their backs with a smile on their face, and plunge them into darkness. Their path would not be easy, and bloodless. They could climb back into bed after molting, after becoming the vipers that slithered along the walls in a frozen cast.

And they would. It would just be painful to possibly lose the family they had nurtured in these walls. They would inevitably lose two. Two in the place of legions of people, who would never see the sun if they did not succeed.

"I know." Taehyung whispered, his thumb trailing along her cheek.

A knock pounded harshly onto their door.

The prince drew in a breath as Leila startled. The sound jolting and foreign, for all of their needs had been met through servants when they left.

Which meant-

"It looks like we don't have a choice." Leila smiled wistfully, her hand touching along the warm skin of his face.

The prince nodded, that harshness armoring over himself once more. But as he took her into his arms and kissed her once more, a promise, that harshness was now reserved for everyone but her.

Quickly, the pair put on a sufficient amount of garments. The prince walked surely to the door, Leila waiting by her fireplace as Taehyung received their visitor.

"You? Just leave." Taehyung said briskly, attempting to close the door.

A fair hand shot out, adorned in a red uniform. Jeongguk. The prince's eyes blazed with annoyance, but Leila decided to walk over to the men. A smaller and quieter voice peaking her interest. A voice she hadn't heard in a while.

"This is important! I know you both do not wish to be bothered but-"

When Leila arrived to the frame to the outside world, Setareh was doing her best to glare at the prince. Who just lifted a brow in blatant amusement at her attempt. Jeongguk did a much better job of looking vengeful, but the prince paid him no mind.

"Come in, please. Both of you." Leila ordered at the noble, before smiling warmly at her sister.

The prince just smiled in response, his teeth their normal size but somehow still looking sharp. Her sister's mouth dropped open as he moved to the side easily. Jeongguk just shook his head, rolling his eyes as he urged themselves into Leila's chamber. Ignoring the 'entitled royals' utterance that fell from stiff lips.

Setareh turned her attention to her, a sly smile gracing her rounded face. Her amber eyes blaring in their curiosity. There was time to update her on other matters later.

The four of them sat in front of Leila's fireplace. Taehyung, not really sitting, as he paced before the open flames. Leila and Setareh took the two plush armchairs. Jeongguk sat protectively next to her, his body angled towards her. As if she could lose it at any moment.

Leila sat frozen, holding her hands in her lap. Conflicted on whether she should move and comfort her sister.

She met the prince's stern eyes, found a subtle shake of his head as he paused before them.

Right.

They still did not know what to make of his family connections. They still had yet to know if her sister was like Bianca, in that she would choose to stick by his side. It was a painful thought, a thorn she could not remove. She stayed in her own chair, settling back. Taehyung began to pace once again.

Jeongguk sat beside her, ready to take over. Setareh looked up at him, her eyes watering more with each passing second.

"What brings you both on this quaint little visit?" Taehyung asked, still annoyed by their disturbance.

Leila shot him a look, to which his smoldering eyes softened her.

Jeongguk scoffed, his hand gesturing to the two royals, "You both better work on that before you step foot out these doors. Also, while you two fucked each other into oblivion your sister here has been suffering."

A pang of guilt swallowed her retorts.

Taehyung stepped forward, eyes flashing, "Watch your tongue as you speak to your Queen."

Some of the anger left Jeongguk's face out of sheer shock. He took in Leila, his eyes finding unyielding silver. Leila thought she imagined the bittersweet pride gracing along his strong features.

Setareh shifted forward, putting her hand on the noble. His face paled even more.

Her eyes a glowing amber, so bright and wide they took the breath from Leila's lungs. It was her sister speaking, but somehow different. The quiet girl's voice pitched lower, her voice a cold fog spread as she addressed the Prince, "Blood. So much blood. Black, gold, silver, and blue. Red of the bodies that fell in their path. Red as the ocean, red as the moon. Red as the betrayal that smothers these halls in it's poison." Setareh sucked in a breath, Leila's whole body felt chills as her sister turned her glowing eyes to her, "Carnage will come in time. With the first drop of ocean and fire. You will burn with it if you do not find the shadow that waits to strike. If you do not find them." Setareh coughed, her eyes slowly turning back to a warm amber, tears forming in them, "Then Jeongguk will die. I saw it, so clearly this time. It was not an abstract impression, I saw the bodies. He will be gone, Leila. Many others will die, the halls will fill with their blood."

Everything that she said sounded eerily familiar. Similar wording. Similar consequences. Similar endings. In which the past, present, and future would converge on a single thread. A devastating realization that Taehyung was right, and that tragedy would find them a thousand times over.

Leila found the prince across the room, his eyes already searching dearly for hers.

No, they would not have a choice to retreat.

Leila watched, as knew theories boiled behind his intelligent eyes. And Leila, for once, felt a burst of delight instead of frustration that Setareh's disturbing vision would not cause him to run. It only caused him to change course.

The prince stalked forward, "Tell us everything. Do not leave out any details."

Setareh, now herself, relay what she saw without riddles. Her hands shook, her face lined with tears as she wittled away at what she saw. Jeongguk held himself closely to her, his face lined with dizzying concern. The prince listened intently, and Leila followed suit as her sister exposed every detail of what she managed to see at the Summer Solstice.

The only face she saw had been Jeongguk.

The only person they could discount from being involved, for his blood in the vision ran red. It occurred to Leila first, who then looked to Taehyung for support.

Black, silver, and gold.

The Queen, Sorina, and the King. All Dimidiums.

But blue? Leila fought with herself to remember the vision. Everything had happened so quickly. Bianca had not reached the ground after Sorina dropped her, for her body fell on the chandelier.

Leila saw Sorina's gnarled fingers lift her. Watched her drop, out of the corner of eyes that were not hers.

"Jeongguk, did you see your mother's body." She hated herself for asking. The prince sucked in a breath, waiting for his friend's reactions.

"Yes." The man gritted out through grief stricken teeth.

Leila felt her stomach roll with nausea, "What color was her blood?"

The question marked the room with a tomb stone. Buried them in quiet. Leila did not wish to speak the words aloud. She watched, watched as Jeongguk went through the same mourning process of the prince over the Queen.

Denial.

Rage.

Sadness.

Acceptance.

Then, the truth.

He stood up from the ottoman, his eyes glassy as his voice cracked, "Blue. Her blood was blue."

The prince moved to his friend, placing a tender hand on his shoulder. Jeongguk's eyes stared into nothing as he realized the insinuation of Leila's question. The way the prince went to comfort him, instead of denying his mother's involvement.

Taehyung explained all that Leila and himself discovered. About the four corners of the curse. About what truly happened the night of the solstice.

The pair took in everything they said, promising to take it to the grave. Setareh looked at the noble, worried as he began to flounder around the room. His eyes lost and searching. Unable to reconcile his mother's place in the ruination of their people. The prince and Leila were focusing on consoling him, so much that Setareh's enlightenment came as a shock.

"They were all Dimidium. That means that the current cursed must be Dimidium. They have been concealing themselves right underneath your nose," Taehyung paused, his spine setting straight as Setareh warned them all, "For a long, long time."

Leila stood, shocked. Knowing what her sister said made all the sense in the world. All that had to be true. More surprised, when Setareh took a knife that had been sitting on the edge of Leila's waiting table. And cut across her palm.

A line that blazed red, and proved her innocence.

She stared at the prince with her amber eyes, "Don't look ashamed prince. You were going to ask me anyways."

Taehyung hid his startlement well, stepping around her sister to come closer to Leila. He addressed the pair before them, urging them to sit back down once again. Jeongguk took out a piece of material from his pocket, wrapping it around Setareh's bleeding hand as she stared up at them carefully.

The prince looked at Leila for reassurance. Her small tilt on her lips gracing him with enough confidence to continue. Two allies made anew, for the two souls that would meet their wrath.

"I have a plan. And we need to all need to follow it exactly. No straying, no sudden changes. If we are together on this, you all need to listen to me. No exceptions. Do you all understand?" Taehyung eyed each of them

"Good."

Then, the prince began to detail how they would catch their adversary's shadow.

✨✨✨

Setareh

*Labyrinth - Taylor Swift is the song here btw*

Setareh hurried out of her sister's room, not waiting to see if Jeongguk followed behind.

Even his name in her mind sent a staggering pain through her. The worried look on both the prince's and Leila's face enough to send her into another spiral of nightmares.

She both hated and loved her gift. A gift that had hidden itself from her mind, afraid of what she would see.

Her visions had helped them form a truce. Form a net made of spikes, and set under assured feet. But she would never forget, his lifeless eyes staring back at her.

"Are you mad at me?" The man sounded beside her, making her jump.

Setareh kept her head down, trudging forth. Not that she could outrun an Immortui. She had learned the hard way, as he had challenged her to race to the ocean's edge before. She remembered his smiling face, littered with sparkling bits of metal. So strange to her eyes, but so intriguing. A wash of blood spilled over the scene, causing her to heave.

"No, why would I be?" Her voice pitched higher, an embarrassing squeak.

A lie. Setareh wasn't good at lying. She had never been able to master the cold blankness Leila had been able to achieve. No, instead her cheeks would color deeply with bronze at her own lack of grace. One reason why she had kept from Leila before. Because she wouldn't be able to keep their conversations a secret if Azita asked.

The man doubled down, "You're acting like you're mad at me."

The girl huffed, stopping. She kept her head down, because she didn't want to see his face. Honestly, she wondered why he even cared, especially after what he learned of his mother. Why she was slaughtered, and that it was due to her betrayal of the crown. Setareh hadn't even slipped that Sorina was involved with the King, despite her trust in him. How could he even begin to care about her mood when this all had just come to light?

"I'm not mad at you Jeongguk. I am worried. I am worried that my vision will come true. They tend to do that, considering I can see the future. Kind of." She trailed off awkwardly, not knowing how to categorize what she saw.

Nor explain that she was uncertain of how he would feel about Bianca. But it felt too personal to bring up, knowing he would on his own time.

"Well, don't be. We talked with your sister and Taehyung. We have a plan, and we'll figure out the rest as we go. There is nothing to worry about." Jeongguk dipped his head lower, forcing their eyes to meet.

That feeling that arose in her body at every contact surged. A feeling she needed to sequester, because it could be morphed into deep mourning. It could not go further.

Because her visions had shown much more than his death.

"You didn't see what I saw, Jeongguk. You can't say that for sure." Setareh said, shaking her head as she began to walk away. She needed time alone, time to process what just happened. What would have to occur before the next solstice.

Jeongguk grabbed onto her wrist, holding her in place. She whirled on him, taken off-kilter when his brown depths trailed over her face. His lips were unsteady as he breathed, his words rushed, "Setareh, please don't pull away because of this. I need you."

Me? She could cry out of sheer shame.

A woman of inconsequential power and birth? Exiled from the same people who raised her? Who did not know of her own abilities until they were forced upon her? Who was too afraid to tell him how she felt? Setareh had been scared of her own shadow before she arrived this kingdom. Too lowly and selfish to speak to her sister. She was a coward all her life, and just began to repent for it.

"You need me? Why?" The shock and confusion was so blunt, it caused the man to stagger. His brows lifted, causing the metal to go with them. She held back from smoothing them down with her thumb.

The man spluttered, turning red across his cheeks, his nose as he looked away with a jilted smile, "Of course I need you. You're my—friend." He paused strangely around the word.

Setareh grateful for his denial. They had remained friends all this time, despite the longing glances he sent her way. Despite the stolen touches he had taken as they danced together. And the night of the Spring fete, everyone had assumed they breeched the line. Setareh thought they would too, as they drunkenly stumbled into his room because someone spilled honey mead onto his shoes.

She was there, helping him steady as he pulled off the leather. The next second, her and this unfathomably gorgeous and immortal being stumbled with her onto the bed. A sorry was breathed onto her mouth, from lips so close. From eyes that kept staring from her mouth back to her irises. Their hair messed, their clothes in ruffled chaos. She could say nothing, as they remained close.

Nothing, as he pulled himself up from the bed. Then her. No kiss to be found.

She should be grateful, he did not kiss her. No matter how badly she wanted him to close the distance between them that night.

"Setareh—" Jeongguk started, taking in her silence and hating himself. She could see it, from his wince to the way his hands raised as if to grab her shoulders.

Let it go.

Move on.

It will hurt less if you do.

But her words, for once, spilled without reproach. Because there was freedom here that she did not have at home, and because she knew as much as her heart wished to silence her, Jeongguk would not.

"No, Jeongguk you're right. That is all you are, a friend. Because friends look at each other the way you look at me, right? And they tell their friend to wear the colors of their kingdom to the ball in order to match. A friend would give longing looks like a man dying of thirst. Men go from threatening their friend's sibling's life, to falling at their feet. Yes, friends fall onto their bed drunkenly and get close to each other and don't kiss all the—"

The man stepped closer, and Setareh's voice tittered off into nothing. All she could do was stare stupidly into eyes she had seen closed forever. Knowing that in this moment, their story would not carry a sweet ending.

But it did not matter, as spearmint mingled with her own breath. His eyes growing shaded, as he craned further down to her height. He ran his teeth carefully over his lip, so that they did not pull at the metal ring that rested their. That Setareh had wondered many a time if it would be cold, or warm while meeting her own lips.

Jeongguk smiled softly, despite his pain, despite her paralyzing fears of what was to come. It seized her as his voice dropped, "Do you want me to kiss you?"

No. No. No. Kisses lead to promises. And promises are always broken.

She swallowed once, his amusement growing serious as her lips parted, "I am scared if you do, it'll be one thing I'll miss if you are gone."

Her confession sat between them for no longer than a second. Because Jeongguk's expression fell, his eyes glistening.

And then he was kissing her.

Her mouth parted for him, an exhale of satisfaction and surprise. His lip ring was cold, shocking as his firm lips warmed her own. The man held her closely, both hands cupping the sides of her jaw. Her head was swimming with possibilities, with fantasies as he kissed her with a vibrancy that stole her heart and battered her chest. Skilled and poignant and caring as he molded against her, moving slowly and with want.

It was everything she could've wanted, and everything she shouldn't. And she needed more.

Setareh placed her hands at his waist, pulling his taller body into hers. Feeling his abdomen through his uniform, the flex of his arms as he held her. His tongue ran along the seam of her mouth, and she was shocked to find more jewelry. Her body nearly collapsing as a ring on his tongue swiped into her mouth, ice amid the heat. They molded to each other, only pulling away when they could no longer breath.

Pulling away, she touched the pads of her finger to her mouth, "What was that for? Did you hear nothing of what I just said?"

Her last attempt at salvaging them. Of hoping that the prince and Leila were as prepared as they claimed to be.

Jeongguk was just as breathless, his pretty mouth, which she now knew and needed to feel once again, lifted in a smile. A dreadful promise, "Because you have nothing to fear. I'll be with you until grow sick of me."

Setareh had no choice then. She grabbed him by the collar, and pulled him into another promise. Hoping it would not break from underneath them.

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(A/N: Things are HEATING UPPP 😝😝🫶🏻 time jump was necessary. I've been going day by day too much but dont worry im not gonna skip major parts of Tae and Leila's relationship. I actually lowkey love how the first part of the chapter turned out, since there were a lot of moments between them. A change in pace is always good!

And since you all asked, I gave you a little taste into Setareh and JK!!! OOOO

Again thank you for all the support you guys have shown for this book. It's all the comments and helpful criticism that makes writing this worth it! Even if I do not respond to every comment, I read them all. Every single one is important to me :)

Its odd. Even though Silk Sheets has millions of reads, I feel like more of an actual author writing this book. This experience is just different, and I am so grateful to share it with you all.