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aila picked up a dandelion from the palace grounds and blew on it, letting its downy tufts float off into the open air. Then she sighed as she sat up and hugged her knees to her chin, watching the fountain in the pond burble.

The sound of footsteps nearby disturbed her from her serenity. She didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“There you are!” Lyra said as she took a seat in the grass next to her.

Laila stopped to take in the gentle wisps of air on the nape of her neck. “I needed a place to think.”

“Corona for them?” Lyra asked, a small smile coming to her lips.

“Darius wants me to go away with him to Mortos.”

“What?”

“He asked me after the feast, when we were… together.”

“And you said no, right?” Lyra’s brow contorted in concern. “Laila, tell me you said no to this.”

“I told him that I would think about it.”

“What is there to think about?” Lyra blurted in exasperation, “are you honestly considering letting him drag you off to his evil citadel and making you his monster bride?”

Laila burst out laughing.

“Well I’m glad you find this so amusing.”

“You have to admit it is a little funny.” Laila beamed brightly. “Just a little bit?”

“Perhaps,” Lyra granted, “though to be perfectly honest I can’t see why his offer would hold any appeal at all. He’s so—” She threw her hands up in an encompassing gesture.

Laila cocked her head in amusement, having expected a full list of his misdeeds. “I know he’s not good, Lyra. I’ve always known. But I also know that’s not all there is to him. Darius… I’ve never met anyone like him before. I feel like I could sit there for hours just trying to unravel the complex tapestry of his mind. Being with him feels exciting and unpredictable. He makes me want to challenge myself.”

“You sound like you’re falling in love with him.”

Laila’s lips parted briefly. The concept had never even occurred to her before Lyra mentioned it, and it terrified her. She concealed it behind a frivolous toss of her hair. “I’m always a little bit enamoured with anyone I take into my bed. My attention is a fleeting, inconstant thing; it takes a lot to keep it ensnared.”

“I suppose you like us best when you can find a fragment of your own reflection.”

“Is that not how we all form a connection with another being, splitting them apart and finding the pieces that pair up well with your own, like matching shoes to jewellery?”

Lyra chuckled. “That makes some form of sense.” She paused with a sigh. “And I won’t pretend I don’t understand the allure of a good rut around with a beast. I admit I may have peeked at the regina a few times. But to go away with him—”

“I know,” Laila sighed, picking up blades of grass to line them up along her thigh. “I’m going to have to let him down gently, aren’t I?”

“Do you want me to come with you? Just in case he… doesn’t take it well?”

Laila shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Say the word if you change your mind.”

“I will,” Laila said, “but while we’re on the subject. If you ever do find an occassella that fits your fancy. I highly recommend…”

“Alright,” Lyra exclaimed in horror, “I think this conversation needs to be put to a swift demise.”

Laila giggled again and tackled her to the grass.

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Darius sat upon the alabaster bench of the pavilion where he and Laila had proposed to meet. He reached for one of the gold roses that had encroached upon the wrought iron structure to claim their hegemony, marvelling at its growth. His relationship with Laila had undergone a similar form of blossoming. He never would’ve thought before he’d come here just how indispensable she would be to him in such a short amount of time.

He heard her footsteps on the pavilion as she approached in her ruffled pink gingham chemisette and matching culottes. The garment was a simple affair compared to the other ostentations of her wardrobe, but she was beatific in it as she greeted him with few adornments other than a radiant smile he couldn’t believe was just for him.

“Glad you could make it,” she said, elevating up onto her toes to peck his lips chastely. It was a gesture not out of sorts in the lands they now walk but he longed to take her in for a deeper kiss. “Come on, we’re going this way.”

“And where are we going?” he asked as she locked their elbows together, guiding him through the grounds of the palace. Swinging on her other elbow was a wicker basket woven with flowers.

He did not have to wait long to receive an answer as the stables came into view, signalled by the euphonious whinnies of unicorns. However, as he approached the soft, talkative murmurings of the mounts soon escalated into panicked screeches and cries.

“Hey, hey.” Laila attempted to placate in her caramelised tone, approaching one unicorn, in particular, to grip his jaw and stroke his snout.

The animal would not be soothed, for it knew deep within the hindbrain where all the rudimentary instincts of flight or fight linger that something dangerous was near.

“I’m afraid it’s my fault, princess,” Darius explained, head bowed in contrition. “Never was terribly popular with nature’s creatures.”

She turned to him over her bare brown shoulder with a disapproving look. “I don’t suppose you have an off switch for that effect?”

He spread his arms out and shrugged.

She sighed, taking the basket off from her arm to clip it to the unicorn’s saddle. “Well, this isn’t quite how I imagined you would meet him but… Polaris was intended to be our steed for today. However, since he won’t get anywhere near you I suppose I shall have to be inventive.”

She stepped towards Darius and palmed his face, speaking a few beguiling words before she stepped back. The screeching stopped.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“I cloaked your aura,” she responded, taking Polaris out by his braided mane adorned with wisteria. “Now they will no longer sense the occassi on you… whatever form of essence that happened to entail. I can’t tell how long it will fool him though so we shall need to move quickly.”

She lifted herself onto the mount and then reached out her hand for Darius to take, lifting him over the side so that he sat behind her.

“I don’t suppose you mean to tell me where we’re going now, do you?” he asked, encircling his hands around her svelte waist and leaning his face into the glorious aureole of curls. He caught a whiff of gardenia and coconut oil; an indelible aroma that will forever leave its stamp upon his memory.

“On a picnic,” she answered brightly and with a nudge of her ankles she sent Polaris galloping.

It had been so long since he’d ridden he almost forgot how much he missed Razer. Darius thought of the oily sheen of his hippogriff’s wings and his taut, powerful muscles. The way he used to go for hours through the sky, always pushing faster and faster until the wind whacked his face like a still wall.

He’d had to leave him behind. Like Dominus. No doubt his father would’ve beheaded the beast and the thought stuck to the back of his throat like tar. He clutched firmer to Laila’s waist, thinking one day he may have to leave her behind too. The thought pained him more than he anticipated and he longed to hear her soothe him of his worries; to not count her among the ever increasing spectres of those he’d loved and lost.

He’d been used to tearing out the pages of his past and leaving them to burn on a funeral pyre, remaking himself out of the ashes. When there was nowhere to belong to there was nothing to keep and so he had worn and discarded many aliases over time, finding them ultimately ill-fitting.

Brother. Lover. Son. Prefect. Bastard.

That last one he had scrubbed raw from his skin until he bled but still it remained embedded in his scar tissue. He would never be free of that blight. It was hereditary, marrow-deep.

Being with Laila required no titles. There were no costumes to don and no pretences to bear. There was just her and there was him. He would miss the elegant simplicity of that; how in her carefree whirlwind he could, at last, allow himself to be portable to his own whims and desires outside of his father’s.

Darius watched the wind carry the ringlets of her hair like streamers as they passed through the flanks of blondewood trees on either side. Their branches were outstretched and swaying like an ovation—as though they had been waiting to usher her open-armed into their sylvan realm. He couldn’t think of many places where she wouldn’t be greeted, smiled upon, perhaps that’s why it was so easy for him to smile with her too.

They drew to a halt inside a field of chartreuse grass mottled with white daisies and salmon-pink poppies. The field sloped towards a blue lagoon, coruscant with dancing flecks of sunlight. Laila was the first to dismount, unclipping her picnic basket and setting it atop the velvet grass.

The first thing she pulled out was her floral-patterned blanket, unfurling it atop the field, and then she reached in to produce more of her hidden goods: strawberry shortcake, his much favoured lemon pound cake and vanilla crème éclairs topped with violet icing sugar. She produced a bottle of raspberry lemonade scented with lavender stalks and two glasses, pouring them each a cup.

Darius slipped down from her unicorn as the creature occupied itself by grazing the lush strands of grass situated before it.

“You mentioned you missed the sea,” she explained, handing him the glass, “thought I’d bring it to you.” She gestured towards the lagoon. “It’s not quite the same as the water here is secluded from the ocean. It comes through a little channel in an underwater cave. But we are completely alone here, no life around for miles.”

He stopped to take in the gentle wisps of air on the nape of his neck. “It’s breathtaking.”

“I always thought so,” she agreed, nostalgia edging into her smile. “Léandre and I used to come here all the time during hiking. He always told me I should bring someone here myself one day. Someone special.”

Her words rammed through him like a blade. How effortlessly she wielded that sterling silver tongue like a sword against his hardened black carapace. Slicing through him, flaying him of his impenetrable scales.

“Sure he won’t mind you bringing an occasso to his special place?” he asked, taking a sip from his lemonade and sliding his tongue over his lips to savour it.

“Maybe,” she said, clinking his glass against hers before she sprawled out onto the blanket, her legs tented beneath the thin barrier of white cotton. “But Léandre isn’t here.”

His smile grew roguish in intent as he sat beside her and they helped themselves to a small feast of Soleterean pastries—an indulgent coating of sugar and crème sticking to the inside of their ribs.

As Laila bit into her third eclair in a row he saw a small daub of crème had gathered at the corner of her mouth. He paused eating his lemon cake to mention it.

“You have a little crème—” He gestured to the corner of his mouth.

Her forehead crinkled delicately. “Where?” she asked, darting her tongue out to navigate in his general direction.

“There.” He cupped her chin, leaning in to claim the crème for himself as he put his mouth to hers and lightly grazed his tongue over it.

Laila giggled wildly before his lips covered hers and what started as a rather innocuous gesture grew into a passionate kiss as he drew her body closer to him.

She pulled away with a moan in protest. “Not yet.” She grabbed his hands and returned them to his side. “I want to swim first.”

She removed her clothes and followed it with the removal of her undergarments, tossing them away with a saucy smile cast over her shoulder. The light teased across the star-flecks that constellated her body, her golden brown skin glistening like a desert in midsummer. One could make themselves thirsty just hiking their gaze up her sinuous miles, every generous curve and bend.

She ran down the slope of the hill and disappeared beneath the surface of the blue water. Darius watched her resurface, her hair now a curtain of dark gold plastered to her neck, burnished beneath the glow of the sunlight. He undressed himself and walked down to meet her, diving into the lagoon with an elegant pose.

The water was as warm and clear as it looked, no hint of salt in it. They waded alongside each other, chasing and splashing and laughing all the while, until eventually he dragged her to him by the arm to hold her close.

“I don’t suppose you have an answer for me?” Darius asked, sliding a wet strand of hair away from her cheek.

Laila sighed as she strung her arms around his neck. “Can’t we just enjoy today?”

“I’ll be leaving soon, Laila. Once the trial of my father has been settled, that's it for me.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “I need to know what you’ve decided before then.”

And though he hoped for otherwise, he could see the answer clear as day moments before she uttered it.

“I’m so sorry, Darius.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled his disappointment. “I suppose it was always a gamble, princess.” He slid his thumb down her cheek one last time as though to memorise the impression before he drew away. “I think it’s time we left.”

“Wait.” She drew him back. “Please, just let me explain.”

“What is there to explain, Laila?” He took her hands and lowered them to her sides. “You’ve made your stance rather clear.”

He made a turn to leave before she mirrored his movement.

“Please just stay with me today, just one more day,” she pleaded, reaching for him, “this isn’t how I wanted things to end.”

“Then why the charade? If you knew you had no intention of leaving with me then why toy with me like this? Why give me hope?”

“I didn’t do this to hurt you, Darius,” she said, cupping his face in her hands, “I just wanted for us to—”

“I know what you wanted, Laila.” He pinched his temples, massaging them with his fingers. “And I wish I could say I was charitable enough to give it to you, but I can’t. I can’t stay here with you a moment longer.”

“So, that’s it?” Her eyes shimmered in disbelief. “You’re just going to walk away from me after everything? Just like that?”

“Perhaps I’m simply unable to accept you will never return the same depth of feeling I have for you—”

“This isn’t about what I feel or don’t feel for you, Darius. You are asking a lot of me. You have no idea how much it scares me, the way I feel for you. A way in which I’ve never felt for anyone before in my life. It’s too much. You’re too much for me—”

He seized her by the face and kissed her, his hands sliding down her waist to pull her closer. He heard her moan against him as she pulled him in by the shoulders, her nipples stiffening against his chest as she returned the kiss with the same fervour.

Laila wrapped her legs around his waist as she kissed him, deeply and longingly, as she’d been wanting for an age. She grinded on the firmness of his abdomen as he pressed her up against the bank of the lagoon.

Darius found himself wanting to scar her, mark her, leave his impression so deep within her bones she would be able to feel him rustling beneath her skin long after he’d left.

“Laila,” he groaned against her ear in a way that made her shudder. He scraped his enlarged canines underneath her jaw. “I need—”

“Bite me,” she commanded.

Darius kissed a trail down her neck before he embedded his fangs into her. The bite felt just as good as entering her. He soothed the wound with the wet massage of his tongue, sampling the sublime golden nectar that was her ichor as he released his venom into her veins.

“Harder,” she insisted as her body wilted into bliss. She felt the tranquilising secretion of his venom seep into her bloodstream, coaxing her to the brink of ecstasy. That was enough to unravel the tension inside her as her orgasm surged with such an exquisite pleasure-pain that she was practically seeing stars. Her neck reclined before she lolled forward, lips skirting along his shoulder.

Darius unlatched his teeth to look down into her venom-blissed face, stroking away the damp strands of hair from her forehead. He could see she had taken on that roseate afterglow he so favoured, her sweetly heart-shaped face having ascended to levels of unreality through her ecstasy.

He watched the glow of her like he’d captured the sun in his arms. His own personal midnight light. And though he knew she was never his to keep, he still desired to contain her, to bottle her up and secrete her away beneath his pillow like some newly discovered trinket.

Wasn’t it the height of arrogance in all beasts to think they might ever conquer the sky?

She reached out lazily to touch his face, sliding her fingers down his jawline. “I can’t come with you to Mortos, Darius. I can’t.”

He let himself exhale his disappointment, leaning briefly into her touch before he pulled her hand away. “Perhaps then it’s best if we… stop this now. For both our sakes.”

Then he walked away from her, not daring to look back as he dressed into his clothes and wandered into a cluster of trees.

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The fate of Lanius Calantis was to be decided by a private trial at the Celestial Court. Among the attendees was the impératrice herself, joined by her Magisterium and a select few high-ranking Lightshields.

Darius’ invitation was extended as a courtesy and he was to act both as a witness and representative to the Mortesian branch of the law.

The matter of Lanius’ danger was indisputable, what was then being argued back and forth was how best to neutralise him. The search for his heart had bore no fruit and Lanius was no more agreeable to being interrogated. Even entering his mind had not revealed it for his sanity had corroded too far to be comprehensible; the court had found themselves swiftly out of options.

“Your Luminosity, if I may posit,” Lady Commander Cassia asserted from her seat, “I do not feel comfortable sentencing Lanius indefinitely to imprisonment. A prisoner of such high-risk would be a constant hazard for escape, not to mention those he may have influenced enough to attempt to release him.”

Darius couldn’t be persuaded to disagree. Through every trial of combat that was held in the past for Mortesian succession, the losing party was always killed. To leave him alive would forever be a lingering threat; one any sane rex would do well to dispose of.

“I hear your concerns, Lady Cassia, and I share them,” Amira said, “however, as we have been unable to locate Lanius’ heart I am afraid we do not have a reliable way of detaining him except for keeping him in the house of correction. I am willing to relieve Lanius of his powers in order to neutralise any magical harm he may cause, but that doesn’t negate him as a risk.”

“There is another alternative I might offer,” said Léandre de Lis. “In the past, forest sprites have often used banishment to deal with particularly egregious monsters. I would suggest we utilise this method to deal with Lanius.”

“Banishment as in eternal exile to an external dimensional realm?” Amira tapped her chin in thought. “It is worth considering, however, I do recall that sort of magic does not come without great cost.”

“To complete the spell for a lifelong hold then it would require a life to be given in exchange, yes,” Léandre replied grimly.

“And I don’t suppose we’ll see many willing volunteers for such an exchange, would we?” Amira asked, her tone ironic.

Her scepticism was validated by the soft murmurs of dissent.

“I would be willing to make the exchange, Your Luminosity,” Léandre said, without even a hitch in his breath. The certainty with which he was willing to give up his life had even Darius sitting up in interest.

“Are you certain, Ser Léandre?” Amira asked, her expression as imperceptible as it ever was. “That is a rather large sacrifice for you to make on behalf of the country.”

“I have lived three hundred years, Your Luminosity. More than enough time to see what I feel I ought to have seen of the world. I am ready to pass onto the celestial realm to be reunited with my sister in the knowledge that my niece, Lyra, will be prepared to take up my mantle.”

“If that is the case then you will be given a period of time to reconsider in which you may make any final requests of the court in order to ease your passage.”

“Only that I might have time with Lyra in order to prepare her,” Léandre said, “and to say goodbye to Princess Laila.”

“Your first request may be granted. However, I’m going to have to ask that you… suspend any farewell you wish to have with my daughter.”

“You mean you would like for me not to tell her?”

Darius did not miss the slight undertone of accusation, nor could he prevent himself from sharing it.

“Not at all, Ser Léandre, only that I think it would be best to postpone it to prevent my daughter from making a scene. I think you understand well enough that Laila has a habit of getting into people’s minds, supplanting their wills with her own.” Amira’s eyes flitted over to Darius upon the final point and he realised with startling alarm that she must know about the affair. Though how long and how much, he could not guess.

“I understand, Your Luminosity,” Léandre acquiesced, “may I at least tell Lyra?”

“Considering the risk the news might pass onto Laila through osmosis, I do hesitate to permit it. However, I am willing to afford you the opportunity to do so provided you ensure she is sworn to secrecy.”

“As you wish, Your Luminosity.”

“Consider this meeting adjourned.”

The attendees rose up from their seats to depart. It was only when Darius made a move to leave that he heard her speak again.

“Please stay behind, Darius Rex.”

His back stiffened but he knew better than to refuse her. “How may I help, Your Luminosity?”

“I was hoping for a quick tête-à-tête between us both.” She stood to full height. “I was hoping you and I might discuss the status of our relationship when you return to Mortos.”

“I would expect it would be a peaceful one, I hope.” Darius allowed himself a wry smile. “What with my father now due to be safely out of the way and Dominus dispensed with, it seems everybody involved has gotten what they want.”

“Now see that is precisely what concerns me, Darius Rex.” She moved from behind her chair to enclose the distance between them. “I can’t say I am sure what it is you want.”

He met her imperious scrutiny with a smile of acquiescence. Though he may have an entire foot over her in height there was no doubt she would enclose her lips around his jugular to tear him open with little hesitation. They didn’t call her the White Lioness solely due to the animals she kept.

“I’m an open book, Your Luminosity.” He raised his arms in a blasé gesture. “Achieving the throne in Mortos is the only thing I could want.”

“You see it is just that I don’t believe you,” Amira said, “and I was wondering if you might do something in order to ease my mind.”

His jaw flexed, bracing himself for yet another display of her torturous illumination enchantment. “And what’s that?”

“Allow me to have a little peek into your mind.” She slapped her hands around his temples before he could move. Then she spoke a few soft words in a tongue he couldn’t decipher and his vision was curtained in blackness.

When the blinds were lifted, he found himself inside a tower not unlike his own. There was the same spiral staircase, the same constricted walls of pristine marble. Only instead of one room there were several—locked doors varnished in a blue pigment that looked to have been stolen from the sky.

He neared the first step in caution, giving a quick glance around to locate any other exits before he called out: Where am I?

It took several moments for an answer: This is known as the Dream Realm. It exists as a liminal space between the astral and physical plane. This tower is a gateway and through these doors, you will find the thing that you most desire and the thing that you most fear.

Darius chuckled dryly and shook his head in disbelief: You know that was a rotten trick to play, Amira. If you wanted to see my wildest hopes and dreams all you really needed to do was read my diary.

Just step through a door and get it over with.

Seeing no other alternative to freedom, he decided he may as well do as she said.

When he stepped through the door he knew little of what to expect. At first there was nothing but a simple blackness. But then he heard the orchestral tones of Mortesian music, the insidious, solemn and soul-stirring resonance of it, as his shoes echoed atop floors of obsidian. The dancers appeared in a blink, pivoting in their well-timed circles, the males in their kaftans of velvet and gold-braiding and their feminine counterparts in their courtly gowns.

Something swelled in his chest at the sight of them, the mechanical clockwork rotation of their waltz, while ghoul servers weaved their way around them carrying their gleaming trays of whiskey and wine.

“About time you got here,” teased a voice from behind him and he felt his shoulders tense in an amalgam of delight and anticipation as he turned to face her. She was lovely, of course, when was she ever not. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

She too was in a court dress—a deep wine velvet embroidered with foliate motifs in gold. He glanced at the diamond diadem atop her head, punctured through with rubies like congealed wounds.

“You look well,” he said, “Mortesian fashion suits you.”

“As it does you.”

That was when he became aware of his own attire—the long coat embroidered with oak leaves in gold threading paired with a matching cloak with cream lapels. On his head rested the Mortesian royal crown he had seen many times caressing the cranium of his father.

So, this must be his deepest desire then. Fully decorous in Mortesian regalia. With Laila by his side.

“I must admit I am… shocked to see you here but not disappointed,” he said, framing her cheek with the same reverence as if she were real to him at that moment. “I suppose I just wish you could see this for yourself, see how things could be between us if only you’d change your mind.”

“Oh, Darius,” she said softly, almost yearning unless that was simply another trick of his mind. But then her expression distorted and her eyes turned cruel. “Did you really think I could ever love you? Don’t be so silly. What on earth makes you think I would ever feel that way about you? What makes you think anyone could? What makes you think you even deserve to be loved?”

He swallowed, shifting his jaw in acquiescence. “Maybe I don’t.”

He let his hand fall from her instantly, his cheeks aflame and his throat clogged. Of course, he was foolish to ever think she would deign to lower herself to him other than for a few carnal moments in the darkness. Wasn’t that what he had been for? Just a brute to mount for a nocturnal visit and then be sent away in the full brightness of day. She would never choose to stand with him, hand in hand, declaring her devotion to him before her country. And could he even blame her for that?

Perhaps it was he who had been wanting too high, reaching too far beyond his appropriate level. Perhaps, in the end, he was just… starstruck. Full of too much hope for what he could never attain.

Get me out of here, he called towards Amira, you’ve got what you wanted.

He saw the veil descend before his eyes again before it lifted from his vision and revealed him to be once more inside the courtroom with Amira.

“Well, I have to say,” Amira declared, “I wasn’t quite expecting that.”

“Are you satisfied now?” he asked, eyes hardened in accusation.

“Slightly,” she said, “you know when my daughter’s guard came to me and informed me you were carrying on an illicit relationship with my daughter, she did it out of concern for her. She thought you might be planning to harm her. So I thought it best to take matters into my own hands and assess your danger.”

“I would never hurt Laila.”

Amira tilted her head to one side. “I can see why you might think that. But we both know better than to believe that to be true. Which is why I’m telling you to stay away from her from this moment forward.”

“Our relationship has already been terminated, Your Luminosity,” Darius replied, “you have nothing to fear.”

“But you still want her,” Amira said, “and I have known occassi to be rather persistent creatures. I believe you call that hunter’s instinct.” Her face hardened into something smooth and impenetrable. “You can have your kingdom, Darius Rex, and you can have your crown. But you cannot have my daughter. Do you understand me?”

He swallowed thickly. “I understand.”

“Then consider this the end of our discussion.”