Astelion POV
Kiono picked up the bedside tray, the subtle, clinking weight of it a grounding contrast to the absolute storm that had just cleared out of the hallway. He set it down gently on the mattress right next to my hip and slid onto the other side of the bed. His presence was huge, warm, and entirely too close. Without saying a word, he reached out, his fingers brushing against my jawline as he tucked a stray lock of my hair behind my ear.
I looked up at him, the heavy silence between us thick with things left unsaid.
"I want to know more about you," I said, my voice steady but quiet. "About you and your family."
His hand paused against my skin. His blue eyes searched mine, a flicker of tired recognition crossing his face. "You heard everything downstairs, didn't you?"
I nodded.
Instead of answering right away, Kiono reached for a piece of the honeyed bread from the tray. He broke off a small piece and gently put it in my mouth, silencing me before I could push any further. I found myself the sweet flavor a sharp contrast to the bitter tension still lingering in the air.
"Well," he began, his voice dropping into a flat, detached tone. "I don't speak with any of my family. I left home the moment I turned twenty." He paused, his gaze tracking the way I chewed before a small, questioning frown touched his lips. "Speaking of age... why didn't you tell me you were eighteen?"
I swallowed the bread, looking down at the sheets. "I didn't think it mattered."
I reached for another bite, still eating aggressively to channel the restless energy buzzing in my veins. While I chewed, I looked him up and down, suddenly realizing how little I actually knew about the man who had just held me through the night. "How old are you, then?"
"Twenty-two," he answered smoothly. "I'll be twenty-three in a few months."
"When is your birthday?" I asked, a genuine smile breaking through my guard as I mentally took note of it.
"In July," he said. Before I could tease him about it, his hand shot out and he playfully flicked the tip of my nose. A shadow of his usual smirk returned. "And I don't want anything but you for my birthday."
"Sureeee," I chuckled, rolling my eyes, but the warmth in my chest was undeniable.
Then, just as quickly as the light moment had come, the atmosphere in the room turned serious again. Kiono's shoulders dropped, the heavy posture sagging under a weight he had clearly carried for years.
"My mother can't look at me," he confessed quietly, his eyes fixing on his own knuckles. "My sisters and I don't have a good relationship. And my father... our relationship doesn't exist. Heri, just like this time, had a massive fight with our parents and begged to stay here. After I let her in, I came home one day to find my father standing in my house. He was making demands, making decisions for my life, and he completely destroyed my home."
He held his head down, his voice cracking with an old, suppressed fury. "After that, I packed what I had left and moved here. I tried to keep this place completely hidden. But if Heri found it... it means I have to move the house again."
Seeing him look so small, so hunted, broke something inside me. I didn't think. I immediately threw my entire body at him, the sudden momentum catching him off guard. We both tumbled backward onto the mattress, my arms wrapping tightly around his neck as I hugged him with everything I had.
"You don't have to run and hide anymore," I whispered into his neck, burying my face against his skin. "I will protect you."
Kiono went rigid for a fraction of a second before his massive arms came around me, pulling me into a crushing, desperate hug. He held me like I was the only solid thing left in his shifting world. After a long, heavy moment, I pulled back just enough to look at him, and we shared a sweet, raw, passionate kiss one that tasted entirely of relief and a terrifyingly deep affection.
When I finally pulled away, my hands remained resting against his chest. The heavy question that had been keeping me awake all morning bubbled to the surface.
"You asked me if I loved you last night," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "My turn now. Do you love me?"
His arms tightened around me instantly. Then, slowly, too slowly, he lifted his head, looking up at the ceiling, completely avoiding my gaze.
A cold spike of panic hit my gut. I barely had time to draw a breath before he rose to his feet with me still holding onto him. I let out a small gasp, completely surprised by the effortless, terrifying strength with which he carried my weight. The room tilted for a heartbeat, my hair spilling down my back like fire caught in sunlight.
"Kiono—"
He said nothing.
He walked the two steps back to the center of the bed and gently laid me upon the mattress as though placing down something sacred. The sheet beneath me shifted, cool against my skin. I stared up at him, my breath catching, entirely startled by the sudden shift.
Before I could speak again, he leaned down, his lips brushing near my ear. His voice was lowered to a whisper that trembled directly against my pulse.
"Close your eyes."
"Kiono—"
"Trust me."
I hesitated for only a second, searching the sharp lines of his profile. Then, I closed my eyes.
Silence settled over the room. But it wasn't quite silence.
There was the faint whisper of the wind shifting through the open window. Then, something else. I couldn't see it, but beyond the curtains, the entire garden trembled under a sudden, silent command. Roses shuddered on their stems. Lilies lifted from the earth. Petals unfurled midair. With a subtle, invisible flick of Kiono's fingers, the nature outside obeyed him completely.
Through the open window, thousands of flowers drifted inward as though carried by invisible, weightless hands roses, pale moon lilies, and soft lavender blossoms that matched the exact sheen of my gown. They floated across the bedroom before settling gently upon the floor, automatically arranging themselves into a massive, blooming constellation around the bed. Petals spiraled outward in perfect, flawless symmetry.
In the center of the room, a heavy canvas rose gently from the far wall, lifted by his telekinesis. A painting.
The flowers finished their descent. Absolute silence returned to the sanctuary.
Kiono stepped back. Then, I heard the rustle of fabric as he lowered himself to one knee among the scattered petals.
"Astelion," he said softly, his voice thick with an emotion he couldn't hide. "Open your eyes."
I did.
For a heartbeat, the air left my lungs completely. My hands flew to my mouth. The entire bedroom had been completely transformed carpeted entirely in fresh blossoms, the scent of roses thick and suffocatingly sweet in the air. Standing right in front of the bed was the painting.
It was me. It was the exact image of the first day I had appeared before him my white hair cascading wildly, my left eye violet and my right eye silver, the violet silk clinging to my form. I looked wide-eyed, defiant, and luminous all at once. The very image of how he had first seen me untouched, untamed, unforgettable.
And there, kneeling in the center of the blossoms, was Kiono. He held a cluster of flowers in one hand, and in the other, a ring caught the morning sunlight. It was delicate, crowned with a rare stone that shimmered like captured starlight.
He swallowed hard. His voice was steady, but his blue eyes his eyes completely betrayed him.
"Do you truly not see it?" he asked softly, looking up at me from the floor. "I have spent my entire life building walls, stone by agonizing stone, only for you to dismantle them with a single, careless tilt of your head. Every breath I draw is thick with the scent of you; every room I enter is empty if your shadow does not grace its floor."
My eyes welled with tears, my hands pressing harder against my mouth.
"I find that I am no longer the master of my own heart," Kiono continued, his gaze unwavering, burning into mine. "It has become a traitor, beating only to the rhythm of your footsteps. My thoughts are a storm where you are the only stillness. If the stars were to fall tonight, I would not look up, for my heaven has already seen fit to walk this earth in your likeness. You are the beginning of every hope I possess and the end of every dream I dare to hold."
His grip tightened around the silver band of the ring.
"So do not ask me if I love you. You are the reason my pulse betrays me. The reason my voice lowers when I speak your name. The reason eternity suddenly feels far too short. And if ever you doubt your power know this: You have already claimed a throne within me. I love you." His voice faltered just slightly, a raw crack in his armor.
"Astelion... Will you accept me? Not as a promise forced by duty. But as the woman who conquered the only thing I swore no one ever would."
The petals on the floor trembled faintly, vibrating with the residual hum of his emotion.
"Will you marry me?"
The world held its breath.
The room did not move, but I felt as though the bed had shifted completely beneath me. My hands slowly fell from my mouth. The petals. The ring. The man kneeling before me. And the painting. My gaze locked onto the canvas. The version of myself captured there was from the exact day I had arrived—untamed, luminous, dangerous. The day I had chosen to hide every single piece of who I was.
I stepped off the bed slowly, my bare feet sinking into the soft layer of crushed petals.
"Kiono..." My voice trembled.
He remained on one knee, watching me carefully, the ring still glinting between his fingers. I moved toward the painting as if drawn by an invisible, magnetic force. My fingertips hovered just a millimeter over the dried brushstrokes of my own face.
"You painted this..." I whispered, the realization hitting me like a physical blow.
"Yes," he answered quietly from behind me.
My breath hitched. "You knew," I said suddenly, turning around to face him. "You knew."
He rose to his feet then, slow, deliberate, and towering.
I stumbled over my words, a sudden panic rising in my chest. "Did you know all along? That I wasn't who I said I was? That I hid my power? That I—" My voice cracked, the hidden truth tearing at my throat.
The unsaid secrets hung heavy in the air between us. My hands trembled at my sides.
Kiono crossed the space between us in three long strides. He did not look angry. He did not look betrayed. He looked entirely, terrifyingly certain. He stopped right in front of me, so close I could feel the scalding warmth radiating off his chest.
"I know," he said calmly.
My head snapped up, my eyes wide and glassed with hot tears. "You... knew?"
"I suspected," he corrected gently, his voice softening to an absolute whisper. "There were shadows in you that belong to him too. There was a power you kept coiled tightly inside you, like a blade."
The mention of Castel made the tears spill down my cheeks. I shook my head, stepping back. "You should be furious. I deceived you. I let you think—"
"I do not care." His words were firm. Unshaken. Absolute.
My breath faltered. He still held the ring out between us, the fresh flowers crushing slightly in his other hand from how tightly he was gripping them.
"I do not care that you lied," he continued, stepping even closer until the tips of our boots touched. "I do not care that you hid your true self. I do not care that you share blood with Castel."
My tears fell harder now, silent and completely uncontrollable. With two fingers—careful, steady—he reached out and lifted my chin, forcing me to look into the blue depths of his eyes. The ring caught the gold morning light right between our faces.
"You think I fell in love with a mask?" he asked softly.
My lower lip trembled, the vulnerability stripping me bare.
"I fell in love with your defiance," he murmured, his thumb moving up to gently brush a tear from my wet cheek. "I fell in love with every single version of you. I knew there had to be a reason you were hiding. And whatever it is... it is yours to give when you are ready."
My hands slid up his chest, gripping the front of his loose shirt, desperate and terrified that he might disappear if I let go.
"I will wait," he said quietly, his gaze locked onto mine. "No matter how long it takes. Until you trust me enough to tell me the whole of it."
I searched his eyes for a single flicker of doubt. There was none. Only an unyielding conviction.
"I love you," he said, his voice breaking just slightly under the weight of the words. "All of you. The parts you show me. The parts you bury. The parts that frighten you."
My restraint shattered completely.
I surged forward, throwing my lips against his. The kiss was not gentle at first it was a chaotic explosion of relief, apology, and fear dissolving all at once between us. My fingers tangled desperately into his dark hair, pulling him down. His hand slid firmly to my waist, steadying me against his frame as though he feared I might collapse from the sheer force of the emotion. He kissed me back, his rhythm slowing down, becoming deliberate and heavy, anchoring me to the floor.
When he finally pulled away just a fraction, our foreheads remained rested together, our hot breaths mingling in the scented air.
"I know," he murmured softly against my lips, "that asking you to marry me right now may be too soon."
My eyes fluttered open, looking into his.
"But I have never been uncertain about what I want," he continued, his thumb brushing over my knuckles, guiding the cold metal of the ring lightly against my skin. "I know I want you. All of you."
"And I want you too," I whispered, my breath trembling.
"If you will have me," he said, his voice turning gentler, "we do not have to get married anytime soon. We can be engaged. We can wait. We can do this slowly. I will not rush you. I will not force you."
Then, his gaze hardened not with anger, but with an absolute, lethal promise.
"But I will not let you go."
My heart stuttered against my ribs.
"I gave you a piece of myself the moment I brought you to my home," he said quietly, taking my hand and pressing it flat against his chest, right over his racing heart. "And you gave me a piece of you the moment you kissed me. And I refuse to pretend that I don't love you."
Silence settled around us again, the petals on the floor seeming almost reverent now.
"Astelion," he whispered, the starlight stone flashing between us. "Will you stay? Will you choose me however long it takes?"
For the first time, the question wasn't just about love. It was about absolute trust.
My answer did not come in a quiet whisper. It came in a breath that trembled, in the tears still clinging to my lashes, and in a heart that had been guarded for far too long.
"Yes."
The word left my lips like a sacred vow. Kiono stilled completely. For a fraction of a second, he searched my face, his blue eyes scanning my features as if making certain the choice wasn't born from raw emotion alone, or born from fear of his sister's departure.
"Yes," I repeated, my voice growing stronger, firmer.
The relief that crossed his face was pure, unadulterated happiness. He exhaled a heavy breath he didn't even know he had been holding. He lifted my hand gently and slid the ring onto my finger. The metal settled against my skin as though it had always belonged there.
The moment it was in place, something shifted between us. Not power. Not magic. Just absolute certainty.
The flowers he had been holding slipped from his hand, scattering unnoticed at our feet. My fingers curled tightly into his shirt again, but this time, there was no fear left in the grip only a deep, burning hunger.
I rose onto my toes and kissed him first.
It was entirely different than before. Deeper. Heavier. The kind of kiss that carried a lifetime of promises. His hands moved instantly to my lower back, pulling me completely flush against his frame. The ring glinted faintly in the golden sunlight as my hands slid up into his neck. He kissed me back with an equal, desperate fervor slow at first, then turning scaldingly hot as the restraint he so carefully maintained unraveled thread by thread.
"Astelion..." he murmured against my lips.
I answered by pulling him back down, kissing him again. His hands slid smoothly from my back down to my thighs, lifting my weight effortlessly into the air. I gasped softly against his mouth as he carried me the few steps back toward the bed, never breaking the contact of our lips.
He lowered me gently onto the sheets, I wrapped my arms tightly around his broad shoulders.
His kisses trailed from my lips down to the sharp curve of my jaw, then lower to my neck, where his hot breath warmed my skin. I arched slightly beneath his weight, my fingers tightening in his shirt.
"You are mine," he murmured against my throat—not with possessiveness, but with pure, absolute awe.
"And you are mine," I answered, pulling his face back up to my mouth.
The petals on the floor were completely forgotten. The painting was forgotten. The palace, Castel, and the entire world outside were forgotten. There was only the way he held me like something incredibly precious, and the way I met his heat with an equal, unyielding fire.
He did not rush me. Even in the rising heat of the room, there was an incredible, deliberate care his hands exploring my skin but never demanding, his lips claiming me but never overwhelming. Every touch asked for permission; every movement promised a future.
When he finally pulled back just enough to look down at me, his hand cradled my face with infinite gentleness.
"I meant what I said," he whispered, his eyes dark with desire but clear with truth. "We move at your pace."
My thumb reached up, brushing slowly over his lower lip. "Then stay," I breathed, my eyes locking onto his. "Right here."
His forehead pressed tightly to mine. And this time, when his mouth found mine again, it was not just passion. It was a beginning of something entirely new to us.