Mina sat by the windowsill, her knees drawn to her chest as the dying fire flickered in the corner. The past two days might as well have been years with how long each aching hour felt. She spent her time tidying his room, making sure he came back to fresh sheets and pressed clothes, though she knew how useless it was. She was powerless to do more than to sit and wait until he returned.

Leaning her head back, she edged the glass pane open slightly to get a better look at the stars, feeling the cold night air kiss her skin. Her fingers idly traced lines through the frost coated stone until she brushed against something soft and delicate. Peeking out, she spied a small patch of blue flowers growing in the cracks of the wall, resilient despite the cold and the cramped space.

Mina rested her head on the sill. Life found a way somehow, even in the face of the impossible.

"From the first breath at dawn to the last sigh at dusk," she murmured, turning her gaze back to the stars and whoever may be listening out there. "See me. Hear me. Shelter me." Her chest heaved. "Shelter him. Shelter us."

She glanced back at the door, wrapping her arms securely around herself. Don't leave me like this.

Magnus trudged through the halls, the lingering aches of his body feeling like whispers in comparison to the torment he had endured. He was aware of the looks and murmurs between hurried bows from the maids and guards that he passed, but he spoke to none of them, seeking whatever little safety and security his room could still provide.

Sylvan shot to his feet as soon as he saw him. "Magnus."

Magnus was dressed finely in silk and satin, laden with heavy jewels and a heavier crown. No doubt his father's doing, a kind of cruel mockery.

He struggled to even meet Sylvan's eyes, and Sylvan didn't know what to say.

"Crio took care of most of the damage," Magnus explained simply.

Sylvan nodded, fighting the ache in his chest. "She's waiting in there for you. She insisted on seeing you again."

Magnus was silent for a while, just staring at the closed door as if willing it to open for him.

"I can send her away if you'd rather be alone."

Magnus shook his head. "It's alright. Please, get some rest."

Sylvan nodded again. "I'm right out here if you need anything, alright?"

"Thank you."

The door creaked open. Their eyes met.

"Magnus," she gasped.

Despite the pain he was in, he smiled softly to her and opened his arms. She scrambled to her feet and ran to him, not even trying to hold back her cascade of tears. Her grip was tight and uncomfortable on his wounds, but he didn't care.

"I'm alright, dearest," he whispered. "I'm alright."

"I was so scared," she murmured, her words coming out in short breaths. "I thought..."

He shushed her. "I know. I'm sorry for worrying you."

She shook her head and pulled back just enough to cup his pale cheeks with her hands. Her touch was warm and gentle, and he melted into it. Once again, his father had made sure to keep most of his face intact, with faint bruises being the worst of the visible damage. Mina's breath hitched as she looked down at his excessively gaudy clothing, fearing what lay under there. Magnus knew what she was thinking and didn't meet her eyes.

Without a word, she reached up and removed the crown from his head, relieving him of the weight. Setting that aside, she helped him doff the golden chains hanging from his neck and wrists.

His fingers trembled as he began to undo the buttons of his coat. She reached out to help him again, but he pulled away, turning his back to her. His chest heaved.

"Don't," he ordered through his teeth. "Don't look at me."

She swiped away her tears, needing to be strong for him when he couldn't.

"I want to help you."

He shook his head, already feeling the unbearable burn of her eyes on his covered back. "No. I don't want you to see."

"Would you like me to leave, then? If that's what you want, I will."

He didn't respond, unable to say the words. Slowly and carefully, she drew nearer again. He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt her gentle touch on his arm, but he didn't pull away this time. Still without a word, he let her lift the gilded coat from his shoulders, leaving his white silk shirt as the final barrier between them. She didn't touch him again, just watching and waiting for his breaths to even out.

Eventually, he turned back to face her, his gaze telling her everything without him saying a thing. Her hand hovered by the hem of his shirt, still waiting for his permission.

"Let me help you," she whispered. "Please."

His eyes fluttered shut. "Put out the fire."

She did as she was told without hesitation, casting darkness across the silent room. She returned to his side, her other senses heightened with her limited vision. He didn't say a word, but she felt him nod, finally granting her permission now that he was hidden from the burning light. Raising his arms, he allowed her to pull his shirt over his head and off of him, exposing his skin to the cool air.

She couldn't suppress the catch of her breath at what she beheld in the dim moonlight. It was a canvas of pain and torment accumulated over the years. Every inch of his skin was covered with cuts, tears, and bruises, all layered over one another in cruel succession. No part was safe and nothing was spared. To her surprise, he took her hand and guided it to his chest, letting her feel the rough and uneven battlefield of his own body. He remained silent, and he kept his eyes strictly on her face, searching for any signs of disgust or pity. But he saw none of it.

"Oh, Mag..." she whispered, her voice aching with a pain that mirrored his own. "Sit down, I'll take care of you."

She pulled away, and he watched her go, his body already feeling colder without her touch. In his washroom, she filled a bowl and soaked a clean cloth with water. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the shine of tears still staining her face.

When she reemerged, she found him sitting at the edge of his bed, his shirt clenched in his hands. She approached slowly, seeing how his whole body seemed to rock with a slight tremor, like he was crying, but no tears were coming out. Hesitantly, she reached over and touched his shoulder.

"Mag?"

He still didn't say a word, not even looking her way. He didn't flinch or push her off, so she took the opportunity to wrap her arms around him, engulfing him in a soft and tender hug. She was never the best at comforting people but just her touch and presence seemed to soothe him. She felt his strong arms wrap around her as he leaned into her embrace.

"I don't like being looked at..." he rasped, his voice broken. "It's horrid, it's revolting...I'm repulsive."

She shook her head, taking his face in her hands so that he would look at her. "No, you're not, Magnus. You're more than what he did to you."

He glanced down at his scarred arms but immediately tore his eyes away. "I can't even stand to look at myself."

She gently brushed a hand against his chest but kept her eyes fixed on his. "I'm not looking at them. I'm looking at you."

"And what do you see?" he asked breathlessly.

Her heart fell open and her words flowed out, surrounding him with warmth. "I see the boy who stood between me and a monster all those years ago. I see the man who protects all those powerless defend themselves. I see someone brave, someone kind, someone good. Someone I...care about more than I know how to say."

His eyes fell shut and he pressed his forehead to hers for a moment. "I'm selfish too. I want you to stay. I need you..."

She pursed her lips. They both knew it would be best for her to leave, to turn her back, and for them to never see each other again. But they could already feel the emptiness whenever her hands left his skin or when he turned his gaze away from her.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised. "I won't leave you."

He shook his head. "He'll hurt you too. He already plans to. I can't ask you to risk your life for me."

"Then don't ask," she murmured, intertwining their fingers and pressing their joined hands to her chest. "Let me choose it. Let me choose you."

His heart swelled and nearly burst. She laid a tender kiss on his cheek over his bruises, before shifting onto the bed so that she was kneeling behind him.

"I'll be as gentle as I can, but let me know if it's too much, okay?"

All he could do was nod, and she got to work, concentrating first on the deepest slash in his skin. He tensed when the cool fabric touched his wound, and he shut his eyes, exhaling slowly as he allowed her to continue. With every gentle touch and kiss left on his broken skin, he felt his defenses lower and the tension fade from his aching body. She touched him all over, feeling the unnatural protrusions of his bones and how the muscles of his right arm didn't quite match his left. She traced the long slash that ran down his spine and the grisly burns by his ribs.

"I love you," he breathed, feeling her movements pause just briefly at the sound of those words. Her breath brushed the side of his neck, and she pressed another kiss there, this one longer and lingering. She couldn't say it back yet, but he didn't need her to. She already said it and showed it in every other way possible.

Before he knew it, she was done, slipping off the bed and setting aside her supplies.

"Thank you, Mina," he spoke softly, raising his eyes to look at her. "For everything."

"Of course." She reached over and touched his cheek again. "Please don't suffer alone anymore."

He nodded, placing his hand over hers. "I won't."

She could still hear the ache in his voice, and it pained her. She traced a thumb over his cheek, studying his features. She knew he always longed to touch her but always held back, needing her comfort and safety more. But she trusted him and wanted to make that clear with more than just words. It was difficult for both of them to let down their walls, but maybe they could do it together.

Still keeping her eyes on him, she stepped away and reached behind her back, undoing the buttons of her outer frock. He looked at her quizzically, freezing in his spot. "What are you doing?"

"Being vulnerable with you," she murmured, trying to mask how her heart was hammering in her chest.

She pulled off the outer piece of clothing, leaving her in just her standard white shift. With steady hands, she lowered the top just slightly, and his eyes fell on the faint lines of scars littering her shoulders and top of her chest. The most prominent was an arrow puncture scar, near her right shoulder, and he knew exactly where that came from. His hand drifted up to touch his temple as he remembered that day.

"Oh, Mina. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't be. You did all you could."

Taking his hand, she guided it to her skin, mirroring what he had done earlier that night. His breath caught as he felt the uneven tear in her skin, almost the size of his palm and still raw with the pain of her past loss. She closed her eyes, allowing his soft touch to chip away and replace the memory of the arrow's sting.

Leaning in, he kissed the scar tenderly, causing her heart to flutter in her chest. The feelings continued and grew stronger as he drew closer, rising to his feet and tracing his lips along her shoulder and up her neck. Every kiss was controlled and careful, listening to the signs of her body as his guide. He left a final kiss just under her jaw before pulling away. She opened her eyes, feeling the warmth spread through all the places his lips had touched her.

His gaze on her was so intense, she felt like she was melting from the inside out. Her eyes flicked to his for just a moment before falling down to his lips. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing but didn't know whether or not to make the first move.

He studied her features, trying to figure out if she'd let him. She seemed open to him but didn't move from where she stood. Deciding to test the waters, he leaned in closer, their noses brushing against each other and their lips just a breath away.

No, he thought to himself as he pulled away slightly. He was feeling vulnerable and was just doing this in a moment of weakness. She had seen him at his weakest and stayed, which only intensified his longing for her, but he refused to take advantage of her kindness like this.

"Mag..." she whispered, her voice soft but heavy.

"Mina," he breathed so quietly, she wondered if he had said anything at all. "May I?"

She parted her lips, unable to form words, so she simply nodded in response, lowering the last of her defenses. Their hearts were beating in tandem and before he could second guess himself further, he connected their lips, his hand gently cupping her cheek. It was short and sweet and over before she knew it, but that was already enough to leave her breathless. She stared up at him with starry eyes as he offered her a shy smile.

"Mina..." he murmured, but she didn't let him finish.

She kissed him again, deeper and more certain. As her mouth melded against his, she guided him backward until the back of his knees bumped the edge of the bed. She threaded one of her hands through his curly locks and traced down the planes of his chest with the other, taking care to avoid his recent injuries.

He didn't hold back this time either, his hands finding her waist and pulling her closer. The way he kissed her was so tender yet so needy, as if she was the only comfort he had in the world.

The more she kissed him, the stronger the ache in her chest grew. She was comforting him yet hurting him at the same time. He didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve him.

For a moment, she felt strong, as if by choosing him she was reclaiming a part of herself that was unjustly stolen. But guilt and shame overwhelmed her and she lost hold of it again.

Noticing that she had slowed down, he backed off, opening his eyes and looking at her. His hand reached up to stroke her cheek, and she felt a deep blush growing on her cheeks.

"Mina?" he murmured. "Are you alright?"

She hesitated, still catching her breath. "I'm fine. Are you?"

"Yeah. I just...I got a little carried away. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't be."

A new silence settled between them, still heavy and aching, but not as sharp and a little less painful than before.

"You can stay here tonight...if you'd like." he offered, his voice laced with a hint of pleading but restrained by fear of asking too much.

Her heart skipped a beat. "With you?"

"You can take the bed and I'll sleep on one of the couches."

She shook her head. "You're in pain. I don't want to make it worse." She glanced at his bed, feeling her heart pick up again. It was big enough for both of them with plenty of extra space. "Would you mind..."

"Only if you're comfortable with it."

Before she could let her creeping fears consume her again, she nodded. "Do you have something more for me to wear?"

He quickly padded over to his wardrobe, pulling out one of his plain tunics and holding it out to her. "It's a little big for you, but it'll do."

She thanked him, taking the piece of clothing and pulling it on over her shift. It probably looked uneven and ridiculous, but it safely encased most of her skin. He pulled on a soft tunic of his own and they both stripped off their shoes and stockings, leaving them scattered on the floor.

"Do you have a side preference?" he asked, awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet.

She blinked, still not believing this was really happening. "I...I've never slept in a bed this big."

"Oh," He blushed, facepalming. "I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me."

She shook her head. "It's alright. It was an innocent question." She looked at the bed again. "You pick whichever is most comfortable for you."

They eventually settled on him taking the right side and her on the left. He couldn't lay on his back and even resting on his side left him shifting in discomfort, but they padded his side with enough pillows to make it at least tolerable. He lay facing her and she lay on her back, keeping near the edge of her side.

"Comfortable?" he asked.

She nodded, turning her head to look at him. "How about you?"

He smiled softly at her. "I think I'm tired enough to sleep regardless."

Hesitantly, he extended his hand just slightly between them, palm up, in silent invitation. Her fingers traced against his, feather light and cautious, before finally intertwining. He didn't ask for more.

"Sleep well, Mina."

"You too."

She lay awake for a while, focusing on the warmth of his hand and his steady breath as he slipped into a deep slumber.

What would Kirian think of her now? She had sworn to avenge his death and now, here she was, snuggled up in the prince's bed. Maybe he'd understand if he knew the full truth like she did now.

She shifted to her side, facing Magnus. He was close, maybe too close, but she didn't care. She didn't want to care, but she already knew loving him would cost her everything. She had planned to leave and ended up promising to stay.

She closed her eyes, his hand still tucked in hers. Maybe for just tonight, this could be enough. Maybe for just a little longer she could continue living in the illusion before it all fell apart.