Eris' words echo in your head now more than ever— the crescendo of his calls, each one louder than the last over the passing weeks, reaches its peak tonight.
Every moment you've felt discarded, dismissed, and hollowed out by disappointment, his voice has rung out, threading through the haze of cruelty and indifference. While others belittled you, tore at her edges, he had beckoned you. Promised you something more. Something beyond the weight you bore beside Cassian.
'When you get tired of the animal,' he had jerked his head towards Cassian. 'Come find me.' The words echo again, cutting through the silence like the crack of a whip. Unrelenting. Irresistible. You look down at the hastily packed bags, hands trembling, not from fear, but from the rawness of it all.
Your pulse spikes as she’s ambushed by the image of Mor, flaunting her inappropriate gift, her gifted red lingerie a cruel slash against her memory. And Cassian’s matching undergarments… a sneer, a mockery, a private joke you had never been let in on.
Your jaw tightens until your teeth ache. 'I didn’t have a choice in being shackled to you, either.' His words had gutted you then. Now they echo like a curse, driving a blade deeper between the chambers of your heart. Burrowing pain into every beat.
The symphonia glistens in the open bag, nestled between a wrinkled tunic and a cracked jar of balm. Its silver egg glints in the moonlight, a soft, metallic glow catching your eye. A flicker of a smile ghosts across your lips, fleeting tenderness drowned beneath the tide of guilt, jealousy, and a betrayal that still tastes bitter in your throat.
You hate herself for this. But not enough to stay. The sound of the zipper dragging shut splits the silence like thunder. Final. Irreversible.
Most of Velaris sleeps. Including those who would beg you to stay, who would see you as selfish, a coward, a traitor. But none of them saw what you had endured. None of them heard what you did. Cassian is away in Illyria, and by the time he returns, you'll be nothing but a memory left behind in cold sheets. Now is your chance. Now, you choose Eris.
~
Eris’ chambers are a welcomed reprieve from the cold of night whipping through the forest. He'd found you hardly beyond the border, he has spies everywhere to do his bidding, not his father's. Discreet, loyal, silent.
Though, you were a treasure he couldn’t keep secret for long, if at all, but he would still protect you as such. Especially from Beron’s notice. You were not to become another pawn in his father’s court. Not when Eris had his own game in motion.
With the flick of his wrist, the flames in the hearth burst to life, the glow of orange light dancing across the walls. The room warms, shadows stretching across polished stone and dark woods. Deep reds and bronze tones bleed under the firelight. A place built for control, not comfort.
His eyes roam over your figure—your posture, your wind-worn cloak, the exhaustion haunting your eyes. Fatigue from far more than lack of sleep.
"I will treat you so much better than the brute," he murmurs, voice low, laced with disdain. "You look unwell. Illyrians don’t know how to treat females." He huffs, though there's no real humour in it.
His jaw tightens with the multitude of belittling phrases he could fling at Cassian—vulgar, vicious truths lined up like knives, but the weight upon you shoulders stills his tongue. This moment is not for gloating.
"What do you desire?" he whispers, stepping closer. His scent curls around you—spiced embers, winter smoke, and something wilder beneath, something like frozen earth split open.
He wraps his arms behind you with quiet certainty, his hands working at the clasp of your cloak. His movements are slow, deliberate, as if unburdening you piece by piece.
"I’ll have the servants at your every whim. You’ll want for nothing." A vow, spoken soft, but not empty.