𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃; ʜᴘ (𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃)

𝟏𝟏𝟒; sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛs ᴡᴇ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ

"Melanthia, my dark flower she is." He murmured, his voice soft and poetic.

Mael turned to her and spoke of her own dark flower, Ophiuchus Lestrange.

"Melanthios, you call him." He said, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"He is your dark flower, isn't he?"

The two shared a moment of understanding, as if they alone could see the darkness that lay hidden beneath the surface of these sunlit beings.

"Lobelia and Ophiuchus." Mael continued, his voice low and hypnotic. "They are the sun, yet only we see the darkness in them."

Ophelia nodded, her own eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. "Yes." She whispered. "Only we can see the beauty in their darkness."

Mael moves closer practically gliding towards her with grace and elegance, he towered over her as they stood just a foot apart.

He places a hand on her jaw softly holding her face in his hand as he lifts her head up to him, their eyes meeting.

"They are ours. As we are theirs." Mael told her.

"You haven't seen the things he has done for you yet haven't you?" He questioned and she raised a brow at him.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

Mael smirks as he leaned in and whispered into her ear so only she knows.

"See Ophiuchus has stationed his most loyal to your side, watching you and keeping you safe. The Everest High Marshal, Mathias Lyttelton. Though in this lifetime you know him better as the Avaian Prince, Louis Diggory."

Ophelia's eyes widen.

"No that is impossible. They hate each other." Ophelia told him.

"It's called acting." Mael said. "Now don't think Louis is by your side just because of Ophiuchus. It was the same in my lifetime. Though they have came to us because of Lobelia and Ophiuchus, but stayed because they care about us." Mael explained to her.

"Look closely and you can see Mathias's shade standing beside Louis."

With that Ophelia gazed slowly at Louis.

Besides Louis is a transparent like young man who she takes is Mathias and he is a of striking beauty, with piercing navy blue eyes that seem to see straight through a person's soul. His aristocratic features are sharp and defined, his fair complexion glowing with an inner light. As he smiles his dimples appear like small craters on the surface of the moon, drawing the eye irresistibly to his face.

Though it is his hair that truly sets Mathias apart. Once black as midnight, it has been transformed by the Marie Antoinette Syndrome into a mane of snowy white. Some mistake him for an albino, but this is not the case. His hair is a mark of his strength and resilience, a symbol of the trials he has faced and overcome.

"What is he like?" Ophelia asked her gaze never leaving Louis and Mathias.

"He is a force to be reckoned with, a leader of men who commands respect and admiration from all who serve under him. His nickname may be ridiculous, but there is nothing laughable about the way he carries himself or the power he wields. His every move is calculated, his every word chosen with care. He is a master strategist, and his soldiers know it. They look to him for guidance and direction, and he never fails to deliver. Mathias has earned my trust and respect, due to our time together." Mael explained to her.