We'll figure it out. He'd promised, cupping your face in his hands, tangling his fingers in your hair.

No. I can't do this anymore. Seeing you leave... It's ruining me. Your answer replayed in his mind over and over, his eyelashes wet with tears. He'd used his magic to break the sacred bond, though his entire being screamed in protest. If your husband smelled Helion on you... You would die. He would manage— or you. I'll do anything, he'd said. He'd be damned if he'd break that promise, too.

Helion clung to the hedonistic traditions of the Day Court, hiding behind the meaningless sex and extravagant parties. He constantly seeked it, trying to find a way to keep himself from madness. To soothe the agonizing pain in his soul, to forget you, even for a moment. He spent every waking moment, hearing the remnants of the severed bond ring through his ears.

Go to her.

Protect her.

Go to her.

But he was useless, throwing himself into his work, trying to fill the gaping chasm in his heart, ripping apart his very essence. Helion had stacks of military documents, information from spies, of notes he took on courtly gossip— all to defeat the wretched piece of male that dared call himself your lord.

He'd usually end up drinking himself into oblivion, trying to forget that he didn't stand a chance against Autumn's powerful armies. He got glimpses of you at parties, sometimes. You were so, so beautiful, even when wearing Beron's suffocating colours. The long sleeves that hid scars he'd pressed his lips against countless times.

Helion was happy to look at you, even from afar. But the ache in his heart made his entire body throb with pain, and his migraines never did go away. Still, he was determined to stare at you as long as he could, drinking in every feature that would haunt him forever. It was nearly impossible to find opportunities to be with you. But he'd found the right magic— that which even Beron couldn't detect.

Helion pulled you gently into a secluded room. "Darling." He breathed. "My darling."