The sun had passed its peak, and evening was soon approaching. A day full of sweets and shopping had tired both Cirella and Cyrus out and they made their way back towards the castle. While Sir Halford barely carried the fine clothes they had bought. His strength as a warrior being called into question. A call he answered with grace.

  “You know,” Cirella began. “For a boy who lived in the slums till a moment ago. You have splendid taste.” She said, teasing him.

  Cyrus did not respond, lost in thought.

  “Cyrus? What's wrong?” Cirella asked.

  He turned to her, for the first time looking far younger than he normally did. “Can I ask you something?”

  Cirella raised an eyebrow, “Of course. What is it?”

  He hesitated first, the words forming in his throat. “Promise not to get mad?”

  Cirella extended her hand making a circle with her thumb and first finger. “Promise,” she smiled.

  Cyrus extended his mimicking her and locking their hands together.

  He took a deep breath, “Why don’t you like Antares?” he continued, “I understand the Lord of War story. But Antares isn’t that right now. And I thought I didn’t like you but I spent time with you today and now I do. So maybe that's what you have to do with him.”

  Cirella smiled, she envied the simplicity of the youth. It often made everyone else seem foolish in their actions. As she walked alongside them she did not speak for some time, the evening sun approaching and her golden shawl still as magnificent as she first put it on. It did well to mask her face, Cyrus could barely see her reaction. He did not press further, instead choosing to walk in silence. He knew it was not his place to say anything. The boy had only just arrived, but he felt as though he should say something. He felt compelled to do so.

  “You truly are a kind boy Cyrus,” Cirella smiled. “You are going to break a plenty women's hearts.”

  The boy blushed and Sir Halford chuckled.

  “Antares and I… see things differently. I find he is far too focused on the… humans.” she glanced at Halford, slightly embarrassed by her words. “I find he is neglecting the Stygian people. His connection to humanity clouds him.”

  “Is it because he had a human parent?” Cyrus looked sad, “Like me?”

  “No. By Strigga, no child,” she lowered herself to meet his gaze. “Having a human parent does not make you any less of a Stygian. Do not ever think that.”

  Cirella had listened to Cyrus tell her of his story. Of the way he lived before meeting Antares. It was a story that moved her. As the day went on she found herself learning more about the boy and his origins. Admittedly she was curious about the boy's relationship with Antares, but her interest quickly turned to Cyrus’ Stygian mother. Something neither Antares nor Cyrus themselves mentioned. For Cyrus it was understandable, he was too young when she left. But she did not understand the secrecy with which Antares guarded her name. But Cirella quickly found out the boy had no interest in learning about her and so she moved the conversation along. But to look into his eyes now. She found herself compelled to protect him.

  “I just meant, for Antares I find he seeks to protect them at all costs.” She reassured him.

  There was a long pause before Cyrus responded.

  “What if it’s because his mother died?” Cyrus said.

  It was common knowledge, even Cyrus as young as he was knew of the murder of Queen Myra. Her name was synonymous with hope. A commodity long declared rare in Akkad. Even his father spoke of her when he was smaller. He spoke of the kindness she carried with her. The way she shared it with everyone she met. She sought to bring peace and unity to all. And still, the world was so cruel as to reject what she offered. He was too young to understand it but as his father spoke of how she met her untimely end. He could feel the warmth leave the air, as though the sun hid behind a cloud. To have lived such a life to affect so many. Cyrus could not but feel the profound weight of her loss himself. So he wondered how Antares must have felt, as he was there with her that day. As he watched his own mother die.

  “What do you mean?” Cirella asked softly.

  “All day you’ve asked me why I want to get strong.” Cyrus took a breath. “I want to get strong because that's what my father wanted from me. He wanted me to be strong, to make the life I want. That's how I honor him. So what if it's the same with Antares… What if the way he’s honoring his mother is trying to do the same thing. Trying to take care of everyone like she used to do.”

  Cirella did not speak because there was nothing to say. For the first time in her life she did not see Antares as this monster that sought to do as he liked. What she saw when she looked at Cyrus was a young Antares. Lost and alone after witnessing such horror, unable to stop it. To bear the weight of that memory, and still expected to perform the duties befitting that of a monarch. Cirella’s embarrassment with herself was not that she did not think Antares grieved the death of his mother, but that he would still continue to honor her all these years later. That the pain of her loss compelled him to continue what she did in his own way. In the seconds her thoughts carried on. Cirella began to understand Antares, his speech during his crowning ceremony, and the unity of the realms. All of it was in her name. And here Daimion and herself fought him at every turn. Never once looking at him as anything but a monster. Cirella looked away from Cyrus, rising to her feet slowly.

  He only caught a glance of her face through the clothes he was carrying but Sir Halford spotted what appeared to be tear from the eye of the princess. Something he did not expect to move him as it did.

  “For a child,” Cirella began. “You may be wise.”

  “Maybe?” Cyrus raised an eyebrow.

  They both laughed and continued on their way with Halford behind them. As they returned to the castle, servants quickly arrived to relieve sir Halford from his herculean task. He bid them both goodbye and many thanks for an eventful day and returned to King Antares. Cyrus could see his tired face looking anxious, he did not envy the young knight having to explain why they spent so much coin. He turned to follow Cirella and they went back up towards her room. On the way they crossed paths with Lady Alena who was accompanied by Loukas and Samara. Both of them met Cyrus for the first time. Cirella was glad their meeting was a kind one and they all seemed to get along well. She could not help but imagine raising Cyrus alongside her children. Giving him the opportunity to be a child. To forge a future away from the battlefield.

  As the evening arrived, a guard came to take Cyrus away. His reluctant desire to leave warmed Cirella’s heart. Something Lady Alena was keenly aware to make note of. She reassured the boy that they would meet again soon, for she still had much use of his artistic ability. She kissed him on the forehead and he went on his way. Of course remembering to bow as Lady Alena had taught him. Some time passed and Cirella recounted the day's events with Lady Alena. But before she could go into details. Once more there was a knock on the door. And as Cirella opened it, there stood Sir Halford Robin.

  “Forgive my intrusion Lady Consort. But King Antares requests your presence, Princess Cirella.” Halford said, bowing low.

  Fear slowly crept through Cirella’ body. She turned to look for Lady Alena’s guidance.

  She waved her hand dismissively, “Go child. The fact that he seeks you is a good omen. I will watch the children.”

  Cirella nodded along and followed behind Sir Halford. They walked in silence for some time. Cirella unsure how to begin to apologize for what she said earlier. She knew that Sir Halford had a great admiration for Antares beyond just being a member of the Three Winter Birds. It was Antares who allowed Halford to become a knight when Lord Quellem, his father and others protested against it. It was brash of her to speak so flippantly of a man he owed so much to.

  “You know, I have been thinking about what you said.” Halford’s commanding voice broke the silence. “About how you believe King Antares is focused on helping humans.”

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  “Sir Halford, I did-”

  “No, no, it is alright.” He interrupted her, “I understood what you meant. I just thought it amusing hearing how King Antares was seen by his own people. Because to us, humans. We have always seen his actions as helping Iliad. Not just human or Stygian. But all of us.”

  Cirella hung her head in shame, unable to say anything.

  “One hundred thousand years,” Halford continued. “One hundred thousand years we have lived together on Aurum. No blood has been spilt more in the defense of Iliad than human blood. And still after the wars, the rebellions, the conquests. We are still only seen as human.”

  Only their footsteps echoed in the long halls of the castle. The weight of the silence heavy on the shoulders of Cirella. She was far too ashamed to speak. Knowing there was nothing she could say that would ever excuse the way she spoke. Her foolish hubris on full display. Something even her own father would chastise her about. She knew the humans had sacrificed greatly, their plight one that was well recorded. But her own desires clouded her to the way others felt. To how they lived their lives. Here she was like a child only concerned with how the crown could benefit her and her family. Her claim that all she did was for her people. A lie she easily told to convince herself. Such a thing is easily dismissed in front of sir Halford. His words, real and meaningful.

  Before long they soon reached the King's chamber, Halford sending her in with a last remark. “Nevertheless, the others may not be brave enough to say it to your face. But I am. I am glad it is King Antares who sits on the throne. Not the sniveling rat you call a husband.”

  Her head remained down as she passed him. The words striking her like a hammer to her chest. She stumbled into his chamber and Halford closed the door behind her. As she approached his desk, she held back tears in her eyes. Her head full of unwanted thoughts. All day she had formulated a plan to convince Antares of her value. But now as she looked at him, all she could feel was fear. The words Halford had spoken rattled her and it seemed the final nail would be Antares. Cirella was incredibly tired, all this fear and anxiety she carried had overstayed its welcome. She was looking at the cause of it, and she no longer wanted to feel this way.

  Antares rose from behind his desk. He could see Cirella was visibly shaken, from what he was told the outing went well. Both Cyrus and Halford enjoyed themselves and he thought Cirella did too. But here she was on the verge of tears, and for the first time Antares acknowledged the fear in her eyes.

  “You have been meaning to speak to me for some time. I have neglected you. Forgive me.” He stared into her eyes, he watched as the sunset within them was threatened by a budding wave.

  “I wish to take care of Cyrus.” The words left her mouth before she could realize. “He is not a warrior, he is a kind boy who deserves to learn the arts. Not the ways of war.”

  Antares leaned against his desk rubbing his chin, “I agree. But the boy has made his decision. And I intend to honor his fathers last wishes.”

  “But you are king!” Cirella exclaimed. “You have the power to do whatever you want.”

  Antares chuckled. The thought of such freedom a cruel joke to hear. “Is that how Daimion sees the throne too? As the right to do as you like?”

  His expression cut a suffocating aura. She could tell that his patience was wearing thin and yet all it did was make her even more nervous. She hated how he made her feel. As though she had to always be alert, that danger could strike at any moment. It was a feeling she was not accustomed to. And in that moment Cirella had reached her breaking point. No longer could she hold it in, she no longer cared of the consequences. She would say how she felt and leave it at that. No longer would she be a slave to her desires. She did not want the throne, she never did. What she sought was what she experienced that day, she sought happiness.

  “There is something I want to say.” A tear began to fall down her cheek. “It seems spending time with that boy has compelled me to be honest.”

  The king said nothing.

  “I am tired, Antares.” She began, “I am tired of being so afraid of you. Of hating you. There is an image of you I have in my head of this monster that does not care about anyone or anything. Who lives to serve the humans. But I know that is not true, because I see how they talk about you. How Cyrus talks about you, or Halford. That is the version of you I wish to know. The one that Guinevere loves so much.”

  Cirella steadied herself with a hand on the chair. Her breathing heavy, she continued. “I am sorry… For what my husband and myself tried to do. It was foolish and I will wear that shame for the rest of my life. But all I do is for my children and their happiness, because that is my happiness.”

  The princess had said all she needed to say. Of what came of it she was unsure and did not care much. If the truth of her feelings were to damn her and Daimion to execution so be it. Her mind was clear, she had explained herself. Laid herself bare in front of Antares for him to see her as she was. This was the longest conversation that they had ever had. And Cirella gave it everything she could muster. So much so she had no strength to wipe the tears that ran down her face.

  Antares approached, each step he took loud enough she felt it in her heart. She did not look away, whatever he said or did. She would not look away. Antares was not that much taller than her, but in that chamber between them he towered over her. His ethereal face a few inches from her own. Even as she was, she was still flustered by his beauty, with such an expressionless face. She wondered how she compared to such perfection in the current state that she was in.

  Antares raised a finger, wiping the tears underneath Cirella’s left eye. “As you know I met with my council today.” The back of his palm cool against her warm cheek. “The topic of marriage was one that was hotly contested. Despite my opposition to it. My council believes it necessary that I wed.”

  Cirella was far too scared to move, let alone speak. She was unsure what Antares was trying to do by sharing this with her.

  “And so they have put forth many, many prospective candidates,” He looked as though he recalled an unpleasant memory. “This process is sure to take me and my council some time. And because of the nature of being king, my life could be forfeit at any time by those who covet my throne.”

  Cirella looked down in embarrassment.

  “As such I harshly debated with my council that there needs to be a line of succession in the event such a thing were to happen.” Cirella’s eyes began to widen. “To which they readily accepted. Which now leads us to this moment.”

  “What are you asking?” her voice barely above a whisper.

  He wiped the last of her tears away, “I King Antares, would like to make princess Samara Xerxes Crown Princess. My heir. For as long as I do not marry and father children she will remain next in line. Both her and Loukas will become my wards. Both under my protection.” He left her stunned.

  Cirella had heard the words Antares had said but they still refused to resonate with her mind. For so long she and Daimion had to align themselves with factions and forces they did not care for. For so long they had to scheme in the shadows and bribe and lie their way to loyalty. All for the safety and security of their children. And yet, in a matter of moments all of what they achieved was mute with only a few words. The power Antares wielded with such elegance was far greater than she ever believed was possible. Laid before her, not even in her wildest dreams, could she have envisioned a turn of events. The future of her children was made secure with a simple decree. The thought of Samara sitting on the throne nearly made her collapse. The tears the king wiped away soon began to start again. But before she could say anything, one word came to her lips.

  “Cyrus?”

  The edges of Antares lips curled, “I did not think it meant mentioning. But the boy too is also one of my wards. Do not worry, he will not threaten Samara’s claim to the throne.”

  “No, that is not what I meant.” Cirella ashamed that Antares felt the need to clarify that to her. She forced herself to ask the one question that devoured her soul. “Why?”

  Antares wiped the tears from her eyes again, this time his touch calming her. The storm in his eyes came alive with incredible ferocity. She was mesmerized by them, "Because I can.”

  The bluntness of his words hit her with so much force it nearly knocked her over. Such a simplistic reasoning, almost childish in nature. Cirella finally began to understand the power that Antares held, that she and her husband so foolishly coveted.

  This was real strength, to make dreams into reality. All Antares had ever done was sought the protection of his family. Cirella knew he viewed her children as family, but not to this extent. For him to move in such a manner. It left her speechless, all she could do was look at him as she held back tears. Antares returned to his chair, his interest no longer on Cirella.

  “I do not need a response now.” Antares stated.

  “Wait I acc-” Cirella nearly vomited the words out.

  Antares raised a hand. “Take some time to think about it. Talk it over with Daimion and give me an answer when I return from an outing in a few days.”

  All Cirella could do was nod her head. She bowed repeatedly thanking Antares, who felt awkward at seeing such a side of his brother's wife. He pleaded with her to stop for there was no need for her to display herself as such. But soon after the tears began to fall again and Antares spent more time consoling her than he was dealing with the pile of papers on his desk. Eventually he calmed the princess down. Walking her out of his chambers. Antares ordered his guards to safely take Cirella back to her chambers and before she left Cirella once again thanked Antares profusely. To which he tried stopping her. But in the end she left and he returned to his chambers, closing the door behind him.

  For a moment Antares leaned against the door, taking in the silence. The day had been entertaining, full of surprises and interesting topics. But his mind could not help but wonder to Enrieta. He looked forward to meeting such a monarch. He wondered the life she had lived and if she wanted to rule. His thoughts turned to Samara and naming her heir. Such an intense fight took place against Casspien and his council but it was not until he told them what he saw when he looked at her with his Akashic eyes, did they finally accept. It was clear as day to him. The essence of her Will and how it began to form and take shape. Great power dwelled within Samara. A great power that would not manifest completely for some time. But even still, Antares would not allow another to wield her. Teaching her to harness such innate ability would not be easy. It would require a great sacrifice from her. But Antares had already sacrificed her once, by making Samara his heir. His actions that night and in the subsequent decades would shape Samara to be a valuable weapon to him. Her loyalty to him and his cause absolute and unwavering. The love that she would develop for him would pierce all that stood in his way, and that it did.