"And in return?" Zaphyr demanded, raising an eyebrow. He crossed his legs, staring at the High Priest.
Two other High Priests were present in the room, but the only one who spoke was Charles.
He must be the one with a higher rank than the other two. He looks like the oldest among them.
He analyzed.
"In return... certainly it would not be a bad deal," Charles paused, inhaling deeply. "Our priests will ensure loyalty to the crown," he said smoothly. "We will deal with any deviant influences as soon as they appear, before they take root."
His words hung in the room for a moment. A murmur rippled around the hall but died quickly.
Enzo felt each word like a blade. He knew what Charles meant by deviant influences—powers the temple had long sought to control. And to a certain extent, they had succeeded.
The Emperor folded his hands on the golden armrest, eyes unreadable.
"You ask for children, and you promise loyalty. But the temple’s methods have been questioned." He turned slightly, addressing Charles directly. "I will not have the empire’s youth used as instruments."
Charles’s smile thinned, slightly surprised. Where could the Emperor have heard of this?
"Never, Your Majesty. We seek only to guide."
Zaphyr’s jaw tightened just enough that Enzo saw it. Although the old priest appeared calm, he nervously tapped on his chair’s armrest.
For a moment, Enzo imagined standing and shouting the truth—revealing the letter, Duke Danman’s name, the ambush. But the weight of Charles’s hand on his life crushed the instinct.
Regardless, he was his fated mate. And could easily force him to submission through pheromones.
The Emperor inclined his head.
"Very well. I will consider your request. But understand this: any abuse of children, any use of the crown’s wards for private schemes, will be met with the full force of the law."
Charles inclined his head in return, eyes glittering with a light Enzo hated. "Of course, Your Majesty."
As the conversation shifted into the formalities of logistics—where the wards would be housed, which priests would oversee them—Enzo sat still, listening.
He swore to himself: if Charles dared to touch Zayden or use the Emperor’s wards for his cruelty, Enzo would find a way to burn the temple’s lies down, even if it meant destroying himself in the process.
But will this cursed mark let me act against him?
He wondered, his jaw tightening.
***
Zayden sat on a chair by the window, watching the snow-covered city. A few carriages struggled to move forward, forcing the coachmen to use magic to melt the ice. Children were laughing, their mittened hands shaping snowmen that leaned awkwardly to one side.
For a brief moment, the thought crossed his mind—he should bring Eiran outside to play. The boy needed to experience this, all of it, before he decided he was too grown-up for such things.
"What are you thinking about?" a voice asked behind him.
Zayden turned, unsurprised to find his brother there.
"You knew I was coming?" Soren grinned.
"I didn’t know it was you," Zayden said, turning back toward the window. "But I was expecting someone."
Soren chuckled and leaned closer, curious to see what had held his brother’s attention for so long. It would’ve been easy to assume he was watching Ren again—after all, Zayden’s eyes always seemed to wander toward the servant whenever he was near.
But to his surprise, the space below the window was empty.
"What are you looking for?" Zayden asked, catching the way Soren craned his neck.
"Ren, of course—" Soren stopped almost immediately, realizing too late what he had just said.
Zayden’s gaze flicked toward him. "He’s resting in his room. Why do you need him?"
Soren let out a quiet sigh of relief. His brother hadn’t caught on.
He watched the snow fall in silence before speaking again.
"You know, Zayden, if you love him that much... maybe you should just tell him."
Zayden didn’t move. It wasn’t that he never considered it. There were countless times when he thought he should confess, but the words didn’t leave his mouth. But now that he knew what Ren was going through, he decided to wait. Even if it took another few years.
"It’s not the right time."
Soren arched an eyebrow.
"And... When will it be, then? You’ve been waiting for years, have you not?"
"He’s not ready," Zayden replied quietly, gaze lowering.
"Not ready?" Soren tilted his head slightly to the side. "Why wouldn’t he be?"
Zayden’s gaze flickered upward, his voice growing softer.
"Because... he already had a mate."
Soren blinked, stunned.
"Had?"
"He’s dead now," Zayden said. "It’s been six years, he said."
The room fell still. The wind outside pressed against the window, carrying faint echoes of laughter from the streets below where servants were chatting while cleaning the snow.
"So..." Soren hesitated, piecing things together. "Eiran is that alpha’s son too, huh?.."
Zayden’s eyes widened.
"How do you—"
"You told this to everyone, you know," Soren interrupted gently. "Don’t tell me you thought it was not obvious enough for me to place the pieces together. If Ren had a mate, then of course Eiran is their child."
He inhaled, catching breath, his tone softening as he looked down.
"But... strange. He was marked? I didn’t expect that."
Zayden’s fingers curled slightly on the armrest.
"He was. It was only recently that I learned of it. He had been hiding for years for fear I would fire him from his job because of his second gender."
Soren’s expression darkened, sympathy flickering across his face.
"If his mate died, he must have been in unbearable pain..." He swallowed, his voice lowering. "Losing a bond like that—it doesn’t just fade. It tears you apart."
Zayden didn’t answer. He only stared out at the snow again, watching it fall in endless white silence.
Soren pulled a chair and sank into it beside him.
"You are doing the right thing," he said after a while. "Not rushing him."
Zayden’s jaw tightened. "It’s not about doing the right thing. I just..." He exhaled, the words catching somewhere between restraint and longing. "I just... I don’t want him to suffer because of me."
Soren smiled. His brother had grown mature after falling in love. Almost unrecognizable.
"Good. Be careful with that."