The foreboding chaos that had occurred only riled up the cold collected anger of the Mercury Angel. Times like these called for immediate control, dissipation of the publicâs fear and outcry. And yet, Lan only managed to clench his jaw and swallow his spit - his tongue quieting those who were prodding stakes at him as if was their fault a prophecy was foretelling such a future.Â
But regardless of the gossip that spiraled forth around the halls - there was only one persons opinion that concerned him. The memory of his response burned like a candle to his forehead. His own refusal had left him bitter. The turmoil of obeying his responsibilities rather than confessing the truth to the princess he loves was like driving a knife to his soul.Â
How frustrating this all was - how he wished to bury himself back within his archives, locked away undisturbed. And yet here he was, maintaining the little control he could over the rampage of doubt. Truly, perhaps none of this would have occurred if Selene was capable of abandoning the thing she needed to - that awful wretched sister of hers. The tides would have been more favorable, the longevity of a prosperous kingdom secured. And yet she had chosen otherwise and everyone else would pay for the choice. Lan included, and he seethed, gritting his teeth as he worked his magic on the mortals who dared question the angels loyalties.Â
But it was only the Tsuki Princessâs presence where he was able to quell the thunderous storm in his ears. The softness of her voice - one that he knew came with an ache of something more than just longing. Her voice, snapped him back into his composure, wrath subduing as the fog cleared from his eyes. The raven haired man turned to meet her gaze, her appearance shining like a beacon before his eyes. He remembered to breathe again. âAs it is my pleasure, your highness,â he murmured in response. The longer his gaze lingered, the more he hungered to call her toward him properly - titles aside, places aside, just Yuna.Â
âYes,â he responds, âyour highness,â the protocol being one incessant barrier after another. How Lan longed to claim her his and his alone. But of course, the one thing his heart and soul sought out for was forbidden. It was as if fate mocked him, gifted with eternal life came hand in hand with eternal misery. It had been easier to be numb but he was slowly forgetting the painstaking procedures of hardening his heart.Â
He beckoned her, weaving through the corridors toward the most secluded hallways he memorized. Silence remained as to avoid suspicions. His mind recalled the cordial tone of her greeting, from an exterior it could be presumed as kind. But he knew Yuna better than that, understood the vocal strains in her voice enough to know her displeasure. When Lan had fallen in love he had spent his time adoring her, every facet of her existence - flaws and all. His patience was wearing thin but soon all the other mortals and distractions were out of sight and out of mind.Â
And in a heartbeat, Lan was undone.Â
His arms held her form in the shadows, relishing in the heat of her embrace and the grief of his own mistakes. âIâm sorry,â the sound of his voice a whisper made only for her ears. He stepped back, hands held, pupils intently met hers. âWhat shall I do to earn your forgiveness?â
 Lan could do anything for her. All she had to do was ask.Â
They walked in silence, and Yuna found herself drowning in it. She had fallen in love with Lan first in these quiet moments, tucked between conversations that spanned hours upon glorious hour as she tried to make a home for herself in Lanâs mind. Sheâd done it to understand him, to see the world as he did.
These quiet moments were everything to Yuna. What was more comforting than to rest in peace with the person who made your heart whole?
She answered her question as quickly as she asked it: Perhaps trusting they are hiding nothing from you. The silence was dark and bitter now, a knife held to her throat and pressed deeper with each passing second. Held for ransom, perhaps their love was better left for dead.
â oh, the thought wounded her. How could Yuna turn away from Lan, who was as much a part of herself as her kingdom was? Tsuki and the stars, they had become one and the same. It was cruel to have to choose between both. She could not bear to make Lan choose, either. So she chose another route, hoping to win everything she wanted without making any sacrifices along the way. The crown and the throne would never be hers; she had made her peace with it.
But to lose love, too? For the sake of the very same people who had so quickly forsaken her? For the sake of her father who had silenced her? (She tried not to think of Kou. She tried not to imagine the disappointment in his eyes once he learned of how willing she was to manipulate those around her, for her gain.)
When he embraced her, a deep sigh came from Yunaâs lips. This was what sheâd wanted: Lan in her arms, his lips at her ear, that familiar warmth spreading throughout her body. How could she have ever thought she belonged anywhere else?
And how could he have betrayed that, by lying to her? By making a fool of her, by making a fool of the life she lived and the love she held so sacred?
She didnât know how to answer his question â wasn't even sure if she wanted to. Did Yuna even want to forgive him?
She must. She must, because she could not bear to lose him.
âI donât know,â Yuna answered honestly, knowing Lan would see through any lie she could give. To win the battle, she must spin a story from half-truths and heartfelt emotion. It would be easy; the depth of emotion she had for Lan was boundless with heartbreak and adoration both.
âBut even through all of this, I canât stand to be away from you,â she whispered, meeting his eyes without masking her pain. Let it be her bait, let it draw him in until she could dig her nails in deep and make her play. She kissed him, desperately â as if the moon itself threatened to devour Lan go, as if he was never to be hers again.
When she pulled away, Yuna was breathless. Touching her forehead to his, she whispered, âI love you, Lan, even when it aches.â
All of it was true; all of it was a lie. But was there a difference anymore?