The sun had not yet risen, but the sky outside the veil-draped pavilion glowed faint lavender, touched by the last embers of night. Ren Zian stirred beneath the silk sheets, the scent of Lyra's hair still clinging to his skin. Her body lay pressed against his, warm and quiet, her breath slow and even.
Peace — fleeting, foreign, fragile.
Then she murmured in her sleep.
"Aris..."
Ren's eyes opened.
At first, he thought he'd imagined it. But her lips moved again, barely above a whisper. "Don't leave me... Aris."
He froze.
Not Ren.
Aris.
He pulled back slightly. Lyra's brow was furrowed in a dream, her hand twitching over his chest. She looked troubled, distressed even — but she wasn't calling for him.
The name stung more than he expected.
He slipped out of the sheets gently, careful not to wake her. The robe he grabbed felt heavier than usual. Or maybe it was the weight on his chest.
In the gardens, dawn painted the statues golden. Ren stood beside the fountain, hands braced on cold stone.
"Jealousy doesn't suit you."
Nyelle's voice cut through the hush. She wore a sleeveless midnight-blue dress, her silver hair undone, curling at the ends like mist.
He didn't turn. "You heard it too?"
"She said it loud enough," Nyelle replied coolly, stepping closer. "And frankly, I'm not surprised."
Ren's jaw tightened. "Why?"
"Because you weren't the first one to hold her like that."
He turned then. "Are you enjoying this?"
"I'm reminding you," Nyelle said, tone sharpening, "that love in this palace is never simple. Not when it's shaped by gods and power. Aris was her past. You're her war."
He clenched his fists. "That's not fair."
"No, it isn't." She softened slightly, brushing her fingers over the edge of the fountain. "But neither is pretending that what happened between you two changes everything."
Ren stared at the pool. "She looked so... at peace. I thought maybe..."
"She does love you," Nyelle whispered. "But that doesn't mean there aren't ghosts inside her. You're not the only one haunted."
Later that morning, Lyra found him training alone in the sun court. His strikes were sharper, angrier. When she called his name, he paused — but didn't turn.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked softly.
He hesitated. Then, "Do you remember what you said in your sleep?"
She froze. "No. Did I say something terrible?"
"Not terrible," he said, eyes still forward. "Just... someone else's name."
Her silence was answer enough.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It meant nothing. It was just a dream."
"But it wasn't me," Ren said.
She stepped closer, placing a hand on his back. "Ren... you're the one I chose. Here. Now. In this life."
He finally turned. Hurt still flickered behind his golden eyes.
"I believe you," he said. "But believing doesn't stop it from hurting."
Far above, hidden behind divine wards, a new set of eyes watched from the Astral Dome — eyes belonging to a being even the gods feared.
The Watcher stirred. "So... the bond begins to fray. Perfect."
Lightning split the sky in silence.