Aurean leaned back in his chair, fingers absently tracing the rim of his empty cup.
"I don't know," he said at last, his voice low. "I was going to leave the palace… but then I thought of you."
Rythe didn't move, didn't even lift his eyes from the page, though Aurean noticed the faint tightening in his jaw.
"And?" Rythe asked, the question clipped, almost wary.
"And I ended up here." Aurean's lips curved faintly, though there was no humor in it. "Maybe I just wanted to see you. Or maybe I…" His words trailed off, as if he had realized he was treading dangerously close to something he couldn't take back.
Rythe's fingers stilled on the parchment.
"You've seen me," he said, his tone carefully neutral. "You've eaten. Now, you should go."
Something in Aurean's chest tightened. "Do you want me to?"
That question hung between them, heavy and sharp.
For a long moment, Rythe said nothing—then he looked up at last, and the force of his gaze was almost unbearable.
"What I want," he said quietly, "is irrelevant."
Aurean studied him in silence. Then, without another word, he rose—not to leave, but to cross the short distance between them. He stopped beside the couch, close enough for Rythe to feel the heat of him.
"You've been gone from me once before," Aurean murmured. "You don't get to tell me what's irrelevant."
Rythe's eyes flickered, but he didn't reply. And Aurean knew, with the certainty of instinct, that this was a war neither of them had truly decided to fight—or surrender.
Aurean was silent for a long while before finally shifting closer, sitting beside Rythe.
Immediately, Rythe moved—just slightly—to put space between them, as if even proximity was too much.
Rythe drew in a deep breath, gaze fixed downward, as though weighing his words. But before he could speak, Aurean's voice broke through, low but firm.
"If you want to speak to me… look at me."
The silence that followed was heavier than steel. Slowly, Rythe let out another, longer sigh, and lifted his eyes.
Aurean nearly flinched at the sight. The pain in Rythe's gaze was not the kind born in a moment—it was the kind that lived in a man's bones, carved there by years of guilt and loss.
"Aurean," Rythe began, his voice rough, "I know I've asked for your forgiveness… and I know you won't give it to me. I'm a cursed man. A damned man. I know I will never again enjoy the joy of fatherhood, or be loved, or cherished by anyone. I know it's no justification for what I've done, but all my life, the only language I've known is war, politics, and bloodshed.
"The times I've been with someone, even when I was sincere, it was… at best… for what I could offer them. I am a beast, Aurean. I should never have acted human—should never have thought myself capable of being one."
His voice cracked, and he looked down again. "What I did to you still haunts me. My life isn't enough to repay it. I promise never to disturb you, never to cross your path. You don't need to check on me to know I won't do something—I will be out of your life entirely.
"You're shining so bright now. Everyone loves you. You have the love of a man who is handsome and kind and treats you like the priceless jewel you are. I… I don't know how to face you after what I've done. After treating you like an animal."
Rythe raised his hands, staring at them as though they were drenched in blood. His shoulders trembled. "I put you through hell with these hands."
Aurean's gaze swept over the marks he could see—burns, cuts, jagged scars. The sight tightened something sharp in his chest. Some from the past… some from the other night
"I am a beast," Rythe murmured again, still staring at his hands. "Your forgiveness is something even my life couldn't earn. And the things I did to your body… I allowed you to be stripped naked. I let them parade you for all to see, with a collar around your neck—not once, not twice. I even kept you in my room as I—" His voice faltered. He swallowed hard. "—as I slept with someone else. And I made you watch."
His breath shuddered. "By the spirits, you should have killed me that night."
He rubbed a hand over his face, and Aurean saw the wet trails of tears.
Without another word, Rythe rose. His voice was quieter now, almost resigned. "You can stay here tonight. I'll… find somewhere else to sleep."
Before Aurean could speak, Rythe was gone.
Aurean sat frozen, unable to move, unable to think. His chest ached, his heart heavy, his mind a storm. And through it all, one truth remained—he was hurting for Rythe.