"I trained my entire life for this," he said, the words coming out scraped from somewhere deep. "Every morning before sunrise. Every night long after everyone else had gone to bed. I bled on that training room floor more times than I can count. I earned my name. I've never met anyone I couldn't beat with a sword. Not one person. Not even Jamie." He turned to face her, jaw tight.

"My father was commander. His father before him. And his father before that. All the way back through generations of warlords who carved this court out of blood and steel." His voice dropped. "It should have been mine. By blood. By skill. By every right that's ever mattered in this court, it should have been mine." He laughed, but there was no humor in it, only exhaustion. "But Talia wanted Jamie back. Wanted her sibling home. Wanted to give them a reason to stay." He shook his head slowly. "So she handed her the position. Gave her command of the armies. Gave her everything I've spent my whole life working toward. Second in command is not an honor, but a consolation prize. It's them saying I'm family, but not the right kind of family."

Apollo watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You're very good at this. The whole... serene priestess thing. Like nothing touches you." His voice was flat, almost mocking. "I used to admire it. Now I just want to ruin it. Just for tonight." The words hung in the air between them. He felt something twist in his chest. The silence stretched and he could feel himself teetering on the edge of something he didn't have a name for. This was pathetic and he was going to regret it, and yet somehow... he didn't care. He stepped closer, close enough that he could see the soft curve of her lips, that he could smell the incense on her skin.

"I'm not going to beg," he said, his voice low and almost careless. The lie tasted like copper on his tongue. "But I'm asking. And I don't ask for much. Help me forget."

as he spoke and aurelia realized his words were not only honest, but vulnerable, her shoulders fell as tension melted away from her joints. she listened, truly, to him as his feelings seemed to just spill from his lips. she hadn't known, that something he wanted so badly had been ripped from him. again, aurelia thought, but she shoved that down to be unspoken. this was not about her, about them ⸻ it was about him and simply him.

" you have every right to be angry. " she answered softly. aurelia genuinely believed that, too. she couldn't imagine working so hard for something only to have it taken away when it was in grasp ⸻ she had never wanted the position she was in. she only ever ached for things outside of her reach, hopeless things. " in fact, you should be. " the priestess sighed, but before she could elaborate, he was looking at her again with that gaze that unnerved her.

she was surprised, by his . . . . mocking, if one could call it that. " i am only good at it because i have to be. " she answered dryly. aurelia didn't have the freedom to be angered like he was, to lash out because her goals were not obtained. there was an image to protect, a sense of calmness to provide to those in need - a rageful priestess could hardly provide comfort and guidance.

ruin it, his words had her frozen in place, her cheeks flushing pink. it was wrong of her to even be considering his words, he had a mate and that was sacred ⸻ but he was here, before her, for a distraction. not his mate. aurelia remained still as he stepped closer, her gaze staring up at him as she weighed the situation in her mind. their last meeting was at the forefront of her thoughts and yet again, the priestess wondered why she should ever deny herself what she wanted if it was right here in front of her.

" you needn't beg. " she whispered, " you only ever need ask. " and with that, she closed the small gap between them and brought him into a soft kiss ⸻ a quiet promise that he only ever had to ask.

The temple was the only place in this impossible court that felt still. No whispering shadows or strange echoes, just cold stone and the faint scent of incense long since burned out. Apollo had been pacing the corridors for hours, too restless to sleep, too angry to think. The sparring ring had helped briefly, but the moment he stopped moving, the weight of everything came crashing back. Second in command. It was laughable.

He had chosen the temple because he thought it would be empty at this house. A place to sit in the dark, to brood, to let the silence swallow him whole. Instead, he found Aurelia at the altar, alone, her hair catching the pale light that filtered through the stained glass. She might have been praying, or pretending to. He didn't care which.

"You're hard to find when you want to be," he said, his voice flat. He didn't bother with pleasantries. Didn't apologize for interrupting. He walked toward her, boots echoing on the stone floor. His sparring leathers were still damp with sweat, his hair clinging to his forehead. He didn't care about that either. He stopped a few feet away, close enough to see the stillness of her shoulders. His hands hung at his sides, fingers curling into loose fists.

"I don't want an audience. I don't want comfort. I just wanted somewhere quiet to be angry." He paused, jaw tightening. "But you're here. Of course you're here. So go on," he said, his voice low and rough. "Say it. Tell me how I should be grateful. Tell me how second in command is still an honor. Tell me how proud everyone is of me. Ridicule get and get it over with." He looked at her, his golden eyes tired and hard.

it felt impossible to sleep in yet another different court, this one so strange and secretive. not to mention, she felt as though she was still reeling from the sudden winnowing into starlight. the temple was not exactly where she would go for comfort, after all, it wasn't her temple ⸻ this wasn't her rugs, her candles, her home. it was just as cold and strange as everything else; but at least nobody could question her reasoning for being here.

aurelia was on her knees before the alter ⸻ not properly kneeling, simply sitting there. praying, whispering, hoping. she didn't know what she was doing anymore, as long as it was something. would praying for a vision help? or would she see horrors that she would rather leave here unknowing? she sighed, her shoulders feeling heavier and heavier with each breath.

her eyes were shut, her mind focused elsewhere, until the sound of his voice broke her of her solitude. slowly, the priestess opened her eyes though she did not turn her head in his direction. " apologies, were you trying to find me? i cannot imagine why. " aurelia murmured, though her tone implied she was already exasperated by his intensity.

comfort? at his words, the brunette turned her head. her gaze narrowed, as if she was trying to figure it out. " ridicule you? " aurelia questioned, genuinely confused. " you have risen in rank, apollo, why are you asking for ridicule? why are you angry? " she wondered if it had to do with the means of his rise in power. a murder, of someone she assumed he at least held a shred of respect for ⸻ though she was well aware she barely knew him at all anymore.

now, aurelia stood, able to take him in fully. his sparring leathers were damp, his hair clinging to his skin. he truly was distraught by something. " did you . . wish to remain third in command forever? why not deny the promotion, then? "

The Priestess was still shaky from winnowing to the Starlight Court. Partially, it was because Arianrhod was still gobsmacked that there even was a court of starlight. She sat at the Inn without food or drink, her stomach was upset.

Arianrhod gripped onto the table wood to stable herself. There was too much anxiety in her heart, but at least her joints were not making her suffer.

Starlight enjoyed a temperate climate, which Arianrhod could manage. It also meant her water magic did not freeze immediately when she let it flow to soothe her joints.

Her thoughts were interrupted when someone sat next to her. "I'm very sorry, but I am just not in the mood to share a drink" Arianrhod muttered to the guest.

she was visiting the inn, making sure those who needed help had it or those who simply wanted to have someone there to pray with them had a soft hand to hold. aurelia held a tray of cups, mismatched and out of sorts ⸻ but the tea was at least warm and comforting. she frowned slightly as arianrhod denied a cup. " we needn't share it, i can walk away. " the priestess offered, " but do take a cup, even if you just let it's warmth sooth your hands. winnowing is hard on a normal day, never mind a day such as this. "

"Sorry," he said, his voice soft, gentle. The way he used to speak to her in the dark, when they were young and stupid and believed in eternal love. "You're sorry. You've wanted me all these years. You think about me in that cold temple of yours." He tilted his head, mock sympathy dripping from every word. "That must be so difficult for you. Lying awake, wondering what might have been, while I'm in the Day Court with my mate."

The words had come on impulse, a blade drawn before he'd even decided to strike. He wasn't sure he believed in mates anymore, not after Aurelia had soured him on the concept of forever. But she didn't know that. His gaze never left hers, and some cold and vicious part of him relished the way she was crumbling before him.

"She's not here right now." His voice dropped, the mockery softening into something more dangerous. He stepped closer, close enough to see the faint tremor in her parted lips. "But you are. Interesting, isn't it? How the universe keeps throwing us together?" He tilted his head, savoring every second. "What's it going to be, Aurelia? More tears? A curse in that pretty Dawn Court accent? Or are you finally going to admit that you want something and take it?"

she was unmoving as he held her wrist, caught in the surprised of his touch and the way she simultaneously ached for it. aurelia could almost believe, for a second, that the soft voice of his was real ⸻ but his words told her otherwise. she did think about him in that cold stone temple of hers. she did feel sorry, for the way everything transpired between them. she did want him, but before she could dare to utter a word in agreement; his words came crashing down upon her like the snow outside the window was a roaring avalanche. her eyes widened, watering with tears as she let it sink in. his mate? since when? not that she was entitled to know, it had been so long since she’d seen him. how could she have possibly known?

yet, despite the word that shattered her resolve ⸻ he stepped closer, that glass barrier between them cracking with each inch that was closed. aurelia let his words hang in the air, her eyes simply staring in disbelief. she was stunned, left completely speechless. if she took what she wanted, another woman’s mate, what did that make her? a horrible person, surely. but she was not entirely a fool. she saw the game apollo was playing. the brunette never did anything for herself, never once had she made a choice that was for her and only her but here he was, offering her the chance to do exactly that. 

the priestess swallowed back her pride, every screaming thought in her mind that told her to walk away and don't look back . . . and with her free hand, she grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him into a fiercely desperate kiss.

"I don't think I've had the pleasure before. My name is Dorian. Emissary from Autumn." He introduced himself as he took a seat in the room near the lady.

she laughed softly at his comment, her head nodding in agreement. " i fear i am not the wine drinker that everyone else is, " aurelia admitted, " tea would do much more then the wine would, that i promise. " the seer smiled at him, moving to sit in her own seat before the tea set.

her cheeks flushed softly at her high lady's compliment. " you flatter me too much, my lady. i'm sure i have suggested a subpar tea at some point. kudingcha was unfortunately bitter. " she mused with a soft laugh, a smile on her face as she continued to prepare. she placed a china tea cup in front of zaina, before sitting down herself and preparing the tea to steep.

"Butterfly pea flower... that's the dramatic one, right? Blue, then purple if you add citrus. I'll try it. If it's terrible, I'll be very polite about it. If it's good, I'll be insufferable." He grinned, chin resting against his palm. "Though I will say, you look like you need tea more than I do, and I say that as someone who is deeply in need of tea and wine."

she smiled softly as he seemed genuinely interested. it was nice to feel as though someone was interested in a casual conversation, rather then all the heavy things that were happening right now. " correct, it turns purple if you add citrus to it. " aurelia nodded, " most prefer to add lemon, but i find adding lime does the same thing and tastes better. " she giggled nervously.

aurelia placed a china cup in front of him, sitting down at the table and placing the tea inside the pot to steep. " and it does not get bitter with longer steeping, like other herbals. it's quite a wonderful tea. " the seer softly sighed, her hazel gaze shifting to look at him. " well, i appreciate your politeness if it's terrible ⸻ and i'm sure you are not insufferable if it's good. " this laugh was more relaxed, but her smile fell quickly as he comment it looked as though she needed it more.

"Well," he breathed, touching his reddening cheek with two fingers. The skin was hot, stinging, and he savored it. Savored her. Savored the fact she'd finally stopped being so composed. "I was starting to think this version of you didn't exist. That I'd made her up in my head. But here you are. All that fire and fury and you've been hiding it for years. What a waste. Feel better?" His voice was a murmur, low and taunting. "You've wanted to do that for years, haven't you? Every time you saw me across a ballroom, heard my name, lay awake in that cold temple of yours and wondered what might have been." He tilted his head, the red mark on his cheek stark against his tanned skin.

"Go on, then. Do it again. I can take it. I've taken worse. And you look like you've got years of obedient little priestess rage built up in there. But if you're going to hit me, at least be honest about why. It's not because I was cruel. It's because I'm right. Because you're still standing here being good, proper, and exactly what you were trained to be. And you absolutely despise that I'm the only one who sees through it."

much to her own surprise, she wanted him to be angry. she wanted some semblance of care from him, some sign that what she thought, did and said mattered ⸻ but aurelia was beginning to believe he truly did hate her, for everything she could not have controlled. her hands trembled at her side, rage unable to find an outlet. did she feel better? no, not at all. if anything, she felt worse.

" no. " she retorted, sadly. " no, apollo, that is the last thing i've wanted to do all these years. " aurelia frowned, her head slowly shaking back and forth. " do you want to know what i've really wanted to do? do you even care? " the brunette didn't wait for an answer, " no, i do not think you care, but i'll tell you anyway. " and in some moment of boldness, she reached out to touch where she had slapped him, where his cheek was reddened by her strike.

"And yet," he said, his voice quieter now. "you're still here. Still breathing. Still standing in front of me with fire in your eyes for the first time in years. You never would have thrown that book or raised your voice. You would have swallowed it all down and smiled and told me everything was fine while you were dying on the inside." He stepped close, close enough to see the tears clinging to her lashes, to feel the heat of her fury radiating. "Where was this version of you when it mattered? You fight me now... now, when it's too late, when there's nothing left to save... but you couldn't fight for me when I was still yours."

His eyes swept over her face, taking in the tears, the tremble of her chin, the way her hands curled into fists at her sides. She was magnificent like this. Furious and fractured and finally... real. "Suffering isn't a virtue, Aurelia. It's just suffering. It doesn't make you noble. It doesn't make you right. It doesn't excuse the fact that you made a choice and have spent every day since pretending it was out of your hands." He met her eyes, and his smile was pleasant. Empty. The smile of a stranger who knew where to cut.

"You want me to pity you?" His hand lifted, slow and teasing, fingers brushing a strand of caramel hair from her cheek and tucking i behind her ear. The gentleness was a weapon, he knew it all too well. "I don't pity you. Because you're still standing here still looking at me like you want to hit me or beg me to stay. And yet you'll do neither. You'll just stand there being a good girl. It's what you're best at, isn't it?"

when did he become so able to cut her with his words? he was right, she would have never thrown a book or yelled like this before. if she looked in the mirror in this moment, aurelia would be utterly unable to recognize herself. " i couldn't even fight for myself, how could i fight for you? " she asked, though her words were said more like a plea. a plea for him to understand that everything up until now had been out of her hands. " i have never made a single choice for myself, that is the truth! you are pretending otherwise so that you can be angry with me! "

his smile was unnerving, but she couldn't look away from him. as if he'd disappear entirely if she did. " that's it, isn't it? you need me to be the villain in this, for what reason i cannot say, but you find it easier to hate me then miss me, don't you? " she laughed softly, " you cannot face your own feelings, so you do not get to tell me how to feel. "

the beauty had been confident, for a second, until he dared to reach a hand out and touch her. the gentle brush of her hair, the way his warm hand grazed her flushed cheek ⸻ her breath hitched. she was frozen, for a moment. taken aback by how cold his words were in comparison to his actions. aurelia pursed her lips, trying not to let him get the better of her; but unfortunately, he had always had a way of doing that.

"Is that supposed to wound me? I've been called worse. Usually by people whose opinions I actually value." His fingers curled tighter against his arms. The gold rings bit into his skin. The cold of the window frame seeped through his jacket, through his shirt, into the heat of Day Court blood that had never quite felt warm enough since she'd left. She wasn't his. She'd never really been his. She'd been her parents' daughter first, her court's priestess second, and somewhere far down the list (too far to matter) she'd been the girl who'd promised to build a life with him and then dismantled it brick by brick.

"No, of course not. Dawn is above all that. Dawn has prayers and rituals and a High Priestess who gave up everything she wanted because her parents snapped their fingers and she came running." He tilted his head, gaze sliding back to her face, and the right of her made something twist in his chest like a knife being turned.

"Your parents must sleep so soundly at night. Their perfect daughter. Their obedient little priestess. Tell me, does it keep you warm? Knowing you sacrificed every scrap of happiness just to make them proud?" Apollo's jaw tightened as he let the question hang. He hoped it stung. "At least I know who I am. I know what I wanted. I know what I lost. I've made peace with the emptiness, but you..." His golden eyes swept over her, cold and cutting. "You're still pretending."

" the last thing i am trying to do is wound you. " aurelia scoffed. she had never intended on hurting him, not in their past and certainly not now. she was not the type of person to get angry, to get riled up by words spewed out of hatred ⸻ but oh, he had a way of getting under her skin and the high priestess could hardly stand it. she threw the book down onto the plush window seat, standing up to truly face him with an anger in her gaze that hardly belonged there. " i never had a chance to have anything i wanted! " aurelia hissed, " it was all taken from me before i ever even knew what it was! "

with her anger, came tears. those eyes that burned with such ire also welled with tears she desperately wished would not fall. a humorless laugh escaped her and she began to shake her head. " you never truly knew me, did you, apollo? " those words were a whisper and were pained, even. had she been blind, to ever think what they had was love? " my mother is dead. my father, unknown. my mentor, dead! nothing keeps me warm because i have nothing! " his words were hurtful because they were true. she has never truly known what she wanted, never truly been the person she wanted to be. never was she ever given the chance to find out ⸻ and that was obvious.

"Lovely," he said flatly. "Sure, It's lovely. Everything's lovely when you're not the one freezing to death in it." He moved past her, leaning against the opposite side of the window frame. Close enough to feel the warmth of her, far enough to pretend he didn't. His golden eyes stayed fixed on the frozen landscape, jaw tight, rings glinting as his fingers curled against his arms.

"I've always found it interesting. The way snow covers everything and makes it all look clean, pure, and untouched." He glanced at her then, a flicker, brief and dismissive. "Of course, it's not. Underneath, it's the same dirt. The same rot. The snow just makes it easier to lie to yourself about what you're actually looking at." He smiled. Pleasant, empty. "But I'm sure you know all about that. All those prayers and rituals. Very clean, very... pure."

her breath hitched in her throat as she recognized his voice with ease, as if it had only been yesterday. frozen, the beauty kept her eyes locked on the snow before them ⸻ but now, she was hardly looking at it. her mind was racing, processing every word he said, the way he said it. " how bleak, for someone of day. perhaps you belong in winter. " she remarked softly. day was beautiful, warm and shimmering, yet his words were just as cold as the ground outside.

his comment about her prayers and rituals had her frowning. not because she took any offense to it, but she knew what he was digging at. " not all. " aurelia retorted, " though, dawn does not practice the same hunting rights as spring. " she personally thought it barbaric, how the high priestesses could grant the high lady of spring hunting rights of her own people upon the tithe.

the circles he traced on her hand were soothing and the brunette let out a soft sigh. her shoulders relaxed, knowing she was in the presence of her oldest and dearest friend was more helpful then a calming tea. " oh, cal, you needn't have concern for me, i am quite alright. " she attempted to insist, though, aurelia was well aware that she was a terrible liar. perhaps that was a good thing, in a way.