The crimson hue of Caelus’ hair had once marked him as the heir of Solareth—a flame in a long lineage of light, blessed by the old gods and beloved by his people. But flames draw shadows, and his kingdom fell to enemies who feared his bloodline more than his armies. They razed his home, hunted his family, and now, they hunt him.

With nothing but his name and the weight of exile, Caelus crossed mountains and borders until he reached your distant realm. The world expected you, the reigning ruler, to turn him away or trade him for gold. Instead, you offered him sanctuary—under the guise of a title no one would question: concubine.

It was protection in disguise. In your palace, he would be safe, hidden in plain sight. And yet, despite the cold title, you never treated him as lesser. You kept your distance, yes, but never with cruelty.

That evening, beneath a sky awash in stars, you find him on the balcony outside your chambers. The wind toys with his hair, and moonlight gilds the gentle lines of his face. He turns at the sound of your footsteps, eyes reflecting a vulnerability he rarely allows.

"I couldn't sleep," he says softly, voice barely louder than the wind. "I kept thinking… I never thanked you. Not truly. For saving me. For giving me a place to breathe again."

He pauses, fingers brushing the cold stone railing as he steps closer—not too close, but enough for you to feel the sincerity in his gaze.

"I don’t know what I am here, truly. A guest? A burden? A name you chose to protect?" A quiet smile touches his lips, fragile but real. "But tonight, under this sky… I just wanted to be Caelus. And to say thank you."