“Your Highness, Lord Qilio came with a visit.”

Only a few hours after Lysandra’s confrontation with Octavius, a servant came to inform her she had a visitor.

Despite her reluctance to admit it, the argument with the Emperor left the Princess shaken, so she decided to move to the garden to study.

Her attempts at making a reliable cure for the drug were still fruitless, time off was out of the question.

Sighing, Lysandra put aside the scroll, which she had already read three times by now. “Let him in,” she ordered and moved from the gazebo to the lounge shaded by palm trees.

Shortly after, the visitor in question entered the garden.

“Therion. I haven’t seen you in forever,” Lysandra greeted him.

The man walked over with a spring in his step and greeted her with the usual kiss on the cheek. “I was away from Aervelis for a while. Father needed help with our business in Andresponthos.”

“Lucky. I could use a vacation by the sea right now, too,” Lysandra sighed, inviting him to sit down.

“I heard there is some sickness plaguing the city? Is the situation serious? Should I send some of my people to help?”

So far, the news about the drug and its side effects hadn’t left Aervelis—mostly due to Octavius’ great effort—so anyone who wasn’t present at the time had no idea about what was happening.

Therion was one of those people.

Naturally, the moment his foot stepped through the city gates, the rumors and dramatic stories started rushing towards him. He could tell at a glance that most of them were blown out of proportion or outright fake, but it was still hard to assess where the lies ended and the truth began.

Young master, of course, didn’t bother trying to untangle this mess on his own when he had a very reliable and competent source of information in the city.

It also made for a perfect opportunity to meet with Lysandra and talk about other things.

Especially that the rumors about the mysterious sickness weren’t the only ones he heard…

“Not exactly sickness.” Lysandra sighed heavily. “Remember that drug my father used when he was at war with Faolán?”

Therion furrowed. “The one with those nasty side effects?”

“Someone used black magic to alter it. The side effects are even worse now,” Lysandra explained.

Even till this day, the Princess had no idea where her father got that drug from in the first place.

One day, they were losing every single battle against the Wolves, then suddenly the Emperor announced that he had some miraculous substance capable of turning normal humans into Titans. Of course, Lysandra immediately acquired a sample of said ‘miraculous substance’ and tested it in her laboratory.

She was horrified by the things she found out and tried to convince her father to get rid of it, but he never agreed to.

In the end, Lysandra was able to develop medications that could be used to relieve the withdrawal symptoms and aid in restoring the health of those who used them. She distributed it secretly, using Drusus and his spies to do that, and fortunately, the aftermath of the whole thing was much less severe than it could have been.

Unfortunately, the modified drug required both extensive alchemical skill and an in-depth knowledge of dark arts. While the first thing wasn’t an issue, the latter was looking more and more like an insurmountable hurdle.

“The situation is under control at the moment. My Father had no choice but to be involved, so the spread and destruction are much slower and less severe now,” Lysandra finished explaining with a sour expression on her face.

“I’m guessing those dark circles under your eyes are from working on a cure?” Therion asked with an honest care in his voice. “…Or is it because of some other issue?”

Hearing the question, Lysandra couldn’t help but steal a glance at her friend.

As a son of one of the most influential houses in the Empire, Therion always looked presentable. Finest robes, lavish jewelry, even the perfume he was using could buy a decently sized town.

Today, however, there was something different about him. Both his toga and the pallium he was wearing seemed to be chosen with much more care. The cuff on his arm matched the rings on his fingers, giving the sense of tasteful extravagance.

His hair seemed groomed even better than usual and was decorated with a golden band that he wasn’t keen on using unless the need arose.

No matter how she looked at him, Therion more than ever appeared like a peacock showing off its magnificent feathers.

An anxious feeling arose in her heart.

“This isn’t just a friendly visit, isn’t it?” Lysandra asked, her voice instinctively reverting to a cold, business-like tone.

Therion hesitated for a moment, taken aback by Lysandra’s sudden shift in demeanor. “I heard about the marriage…”

“Mm…” she hummed. “Well, then you’ll be the second lucky person to learn that it won’t happen.”

“You know that even if you managed to persuade your Father now, he won’t give up this easily. He’ll try again.” Therion rubbed his palms together, the sweat building up on them made him somewhat more anxious.

Lysandra swirled the wine in her goblet, already knowing where the conversation was heading. “What do you propose then?” she asked, leaning against the armrest and casting him a falsely innocent gaze.

If Therion paid enough attention to the Princess’ expression, he would know that under that seemingly innocent, almost naive, gaze was a silent plea and a threat.

Alas, despite all those years spent together, Therion still failed to truly understand her.

Blinded by his hubris and the desires it birthed, he moved to sit next to the Princess. He straightened his back and cleared his throat.

Then, after a brief moment of silence, he spoke.

“Marry me.”

What answered him was a suffocating silence. Even the wind and the birds refused to make a sound.

Lysandra knew that this was going to happen at some point. She knew, and yet, the anger surged in her heart all the same, as if she had never expected it.

Therion’s feelings were obvious to everyone who had spent more than five minutes with them. She wasn’t oblivious to them either.

The Princess knew earlier than anyone else. Albeit, as long as he never crossed the line, she, too, chose to be ignorant. It was a tacit understanding between them that formed years ago. And understanding that allowed them to continue their friendship.

At least, this was how she always viewed it. Lysandra was certain it was a mutual agreement that both of them were on the same page.

But now, Therion crossed the line.

He had shaken up the fragile balance they had, causing the relationship between them to topple and shatter into pieces.

There was no going back.

For Lysandra, it was a betrayal of their friendship that lasted their entire life.

Two words obliterated over twenty-five years of trust.

“I think you should go,” she said eventually, avoiding his eyes.

“No, Lys, wait. It’s not like this.” Therion panicked. “Think about it. My family’s status matches yours. My parents adore you, and I—” he stopped abruptly. “And I’m your friend. You wouldn’t lose anything by marrying me, and your father wouldn’t be trying to sell you off anymore.”

“I wouldn’t lose anything?” Lysandra snorted. “Just my freedom and myself?”

“What are you talking about? You know I would never do that to you!”

Lysandra gritted her teeth. “So you would be fine with us never being intimate with each other? Never sharing the same bed, never accompanying each other in public? Never growing old together?” she pressed.

“You would be fine with your wife sleeping with another woman while living under the same roof? You would be fine having no place in her heart?”

The more she spoke, the more absurd his proposal appeared, and the angrier she was getting. Unable to sit still anymore, she got up and started pacing around.

Therion, on the other hand, was silent. He cast his eyes down and mulled over his words. “How can you be so sure that I would never be in your heart?” he finally uttered.

Lysandra paused abruptly and turned her golden eyes towards him. In the twenty-eight years that they knew each other, it was the first time her gaze was so cold towards him. There was no sign of the usual sympathy, no friendliness. Just cold, desolate nothingness.

“Because Saria owns the entirety of my heart. And not just my heart,” Lysandra forced through her teeth, her voice trembling with the bottled up anger. “Every breath in my lungs, every thought in my mind, every piece of my soul belongs to her and only to her.”

Saria was the only one she wished to spend her life with. She was the only one for her and the only one she ever wanted. It was an unchangeable fact.

Just like the sky in the mortal world was blue, the grass green, and the ice cold, Lysandra’s heart belonged to one woman and one woman only. And that woman couldn’t be anyone but Saria.

Even the thought, the suggestion that it could be anyone else, made her sick to the core.

“How can you be so sure? You just met her!” It was Therion’s turn to lose his composure. He also stood up and stared at Lysandra with challenge in his dark brown eyes. “We’ve known each other our whole lives! We’ve—”

“We made vows before Astesis. Saria has officially converted. We have decided to spend our eternal lives together.” Lysandra unceremoniously cut him off.

That was one thing too much for Therion.

He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. The muscle in his jaw pulsed from the emotions boiling inside his heart.

“But she’s just a sla—”

He wasn’t given the privilege of finishing the sentence. The red mark left on his face by Lysandra’s palm burned with equal pain in his soul and on his skin.

“Get. Out.”

The pain and the Princess’ low, furious voice cleared the fog off his mind. In an instant, he understood how grave the mistake he had made was.

“Lys. I’m sorry. This isn’t… I’m sorry,” he pleaded, feeling the anger turn into panic. “Please, just listen to me.”

He didn’t want to leave, not when their relationship was at its lowest. That would only lead to a rift forming between them, a chasm that would forever split them apart and become an impossible obstacle.

There would be no hope for him left.

What Therion failed to understand, however, was that it had already happened. The rift between them was always there. It was the ever-present part of their relationship.

Lysandra simply stopped pretending she couldn’t see it.

Therion’s further attempts at fixing the situation were cut short when the Princess’ two guards entered the garden.

“Your Highness? We heard a commotion. Is everything alright?” Alkaios asked, standing awkwardly by the entrance to the garden.

He eyed Therion and the vivid red handprint on his face, then his mistress, looking like she was about to deliver a death sentence to her most hated enemy.

The atmosphere was tense, as if a bomb was about to go off.

Heron, standing next to him, gulped loudly and instinctively took a step back. He had always considered Lysandra to be a person with a rich personality. He held a great amount of respect, admiration, and loyalty to her. Today, he started feeling a healthy amount of fear as well.

Lysandra didn’t move her burning gaze from Therion.

“Alkaios, Heron. Perfect timing.” The sound of their names coming from the Princess made the two guards jump ever so slightly.

“It looks like the recent heat made Lord Qilio lose his mind. Escort him to the exit and make sure he gets into the carriage safely.” Lysandra ordered with a chilling nonchalance. “Gods only know what else he could do if he’s already spewing such rubbish.”

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