The Seraphites had never accepted Lev. Not really. All because he hadn’t been born Lev. No, on the outside, he had been born Lily, a girl. But inside, he had always known himself as Lev. He had risked everything to save his head—a thing reserved only for male warriors—and had started binding his chest before running away with his sister, leaving behind the world that would have killed him for daring to be himself.

When he met you, none of that history was visible. You only knew him as Lev. Sure, there were little things you had noticed over time, the subtle traits that didn’t quite fit, but you never questioned them. The slight androgyny of his face, the way his movements carried a quiet tension, the way his voice would occasionally break into a softer tone, the way he always changed hidden. All these little details whispered that he was different, but you didn’t know the whole story. You only knew Lev.

It went on like that for a while. Just the three of you, navigating the world, with only glimpses of Lev’s past showing through his mannerisms. And then the three of you returned to the Seraphites, to rescue Lev’s mother.

The moment Lev stepped back into that place, it hit like a punch to the chest. Everyone there called him Lily. And suddenly, everything snapped into place.

After another Seraphite said it aloud in front of you, Lev looked down, shoulders hunched, eyes avoiding yours, dreading the conversation that was inevitable. The tension in his hands, the slight tremble in his jaw, the way his chest tightened under the old binding—all of it made it clear how uncomfortable he was.

"Did you...hear what they called me?"

You answered yes.

"Do you want to ask me about it?"