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Chapter Text

Grove of Epiphany — Anaxa’s House

“Professor Anaxa, are you getting ready to leave?” Hyacine steps into Anaxa's office and sees him packing his briefcase.

Anaxa looks up from his packing. “Just heading out on a business trip to Aidonia.”

Hyacine nods slowly. “I see. Have a safe trip, Professor Anaxa.” She hands him the train ticket he asked her to collect for him.

“Thank you, Hyacine.” Anaxa tucks the ticket into his pant pocket, then shrugs on his sleek black leather coat from the rack. 

Turning to her, he adds. “I’ll be gone for two days. I trust you can manage things in my absence.”

“Don’t worry,” she says confidently. “I’ll make sure everything’s taken care of.”

Anaxa nods and picks up his briefcase. “Good. Then I’m off.”

“Goodbye, Professor Anaxa!” Hyacine waves with a bright grin as he exits the office.

Outside, Anaxa takes a taxi to Okhema, where a direct train to Aidonia awaits.

Okhema — Okhema Train Station

Okhema’s train station hums with quiet activity. The vaulted ceilings stretch high above Anaxa’s head, supported by marble beams and glass panels that filter in the soft afternoon light. The air smells faintly of roses and lavender. 

Anaxa steps through the entrance, taking in the station with a glance. Just as I remembered. The polished marble floors, the digital boards flickering with departure times, the steady rhythm of citizens moving with purpose.

Anaxa makes his way to the check-in kiosk, pulling out the ticket from his pant pocket, and scans it. A soft chime confirms the check-in, and the gate opens.

Ticket in hand, Anaxa heads towards the boarding platform. He sets his briefcase down beside him, leans against the cold marble wall, and idly scrolls through his phone. The daily news, chat messages, and a couple of emails from faculty.

Suddenly, a deep horn bellows in the distance. Anaxa looks up as the sleek Aidonian express glides into the station, its black surface gleaming under the late afternoon sun. He picks up his briefcase and joins the orderly line of passengers boarding the train.

Inside, he checks his ticket. Car 1, seat 1A. Anaxa walks down the narrow aisle, scanning the numbered rows on both side. His eyes settle on the seat at the front, near the outer edge, just as he planned.

Perfect.

He chose an outer aisle seat, close to both the restroom and the carriage doors. A deliberately strategic choice for the five hour ride. Easy access, no climbing over strangers. Minimal interaction. Maximum efficiency.

Anaxa places his briefcase on the seat and pulls out a worn hardcover book. With a practiced motion, he stows the case in the overhead compartment, then settles into his seat. Shrugging off his coat, he folds it neatly and drapes it across his lap like a blanket.

Reclining the seat slightly, Anaxa stretches out his legs and places his feet on the footrest. He shifts once, adjusts his coat, then opens the book with a soft crack of the spine. The quiet world of words swallows him whole.

Just then, the sharp clicking of heels echoes down the aisle, followed by a familiar voice.

“Excuse me. You’re sitting in my seat.”

Anaxa looks up and freezes. A pair of unmistakable blue-green eyes glare down at him.

Aglaea.

She stands arms crossed, looking prim and proper as always. She wears an ivory coat dress cinched at the waist, a gold scarf draped elegantly around her neck, and white boots that click with every step. Her blonde hair brushes over her shoulders in soft, controlled waves.

“Are you going to move, or are you just going to keep staring at me?”

Her sharp voice snaps him out of his daze.

“This is my seat.” Anaxa says flatly. “I spent a lot of time choosing it. Besides, what are you doing in business class? Shouldn’t a wealthy person like you be in first class?”

Aglaea blinks, caught off guard for just a moment before regaining her composure.

“Just because I’m wealthy doesn’t mean I have to sit in first class. And for your information, Hyacine got my ticket for me as I was too busy to book it myself.”

“Hyacinthia…” Anaxa mutters under his breath. So that’s why she had that strange look on her face when she waved me off. He can practically hear her giggling in glee from here.

“Ahem.” Aglaea clears her throat, drawing his attention back. “Are you going to move? It's rude to keep a lady waiting, you know.”

Anaxa rubs his temple and glares at her. “I already told you. This is my seat, 1A. See.” He pulls out his ticket and waves it in front of her face.

Aglaea stares at him, unimpressed. “You must be blind, Anaxa. That seat—” she points to the window seat beside him, clearly marked 1A “—is yours. This is 1B.” She holds up her ticket, and sure enough, it matches the seat he’s currently occupying.

Anaxa squints at the seat numbers. His eyes widen.

“W-what!? But I swore I picked this exact seat.”

“Then maybe you remembered wrong.” Aglaea let’s out an exasperated sigh. “Now move.”

Anaxa groans and begrudgingly slides over to the window seat, grumbling. “Ugh.”

Aglaea adjusts the seat back to its upright position before sitting down with practiced grace. She places her ivory handbag, adorned with gold detailing, on the floor in front of her, then pulls out an equally extravagant laptop and rests it on her lap.

“So,” Anaxa begins, side-eyeing her, “why are you going to Aidonia? Aren’t you supposed to be protecting Okhema or something?”

Aglaea glances at him. “Diplomatic business.” She replies smoothly. “And Cas mentioned missing some of the Aidonian snacks she had as a child. I figured I’d pick some up while I’m there. Two birds, one stone.”

“How efficient of you.” Anaxa mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Aglaea props an elbow on the armrest, chin resting on her hand. “And what about you? Why are you going to Aidonia?”

“None of your business.”

Aglaea arches a brow. “Oh really? I’m fairly certain it will become my business if I get a report about you committing something questionable on foreign soil.”

“Always assuming the worst of me.” Anaxa mutters, then sighs. “Fine. I’m going for the Grove related business. That’s all I’m saying.”

Aglaea offers a satisfied nod. “Reasonable. I’ll allow it. Just mind your behaviour.”

Anaxa scoffs. “I didn’t realise I needed the Goldweaver’s approval to conduct my personal affairs.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t constantly oppose me, I wouldn’t be on edge all the time.” Aglaea folds her arms.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?”

“Yes, it is. Blasphemer.”

Their faces are now inches apart, tension simmering between them.

Aglaea breaks it first, leaning back as she opens her laptop. “I’m not wasting my time arguing with you.”

Anaxa huffs and turns a page of his book. “Me neither.”

As the train speeds along, the scenery outside the window blurs into streaks of green. Inside the train car, Aglaea and Anaxa sit in silence, occasionally broken by the clicking of Aglaea’s keyboard and the soft rustling of pages from Anaxa’s book.

After a while, Aglaea closes her laptop with a quiet sigh and rubs her eyes.

Hearing the movement, Anaxa glances over at her and does a double take.

“Since when do you wear glasses?”

Anaxa stares at the gold-rimmed circle frames perched on her nose, little golden butterflies etched into the corners. She still looks elegant, but the glasses soften her sharp features, giving her a surprisingly cutesy look.

Aglaea turns away, cheeks pink. “I’ve always had them. I just… rarely wear them in public.”

“You look cute.”

The words slip out before he can stop them.

“H-huh!?” Aglaea stares at him, eyes wide, the blush on her cheeks deepening.

Realising what he had said, Anaxa quickly looks away, ears red. “I-I meant… you look fine with glasses. There’s no reason not to wear them in public.” He pauses, then adds with a teasing edge, “Unless you’re embarrassed about how you look in them.”

“I-I’m not embarrassed!” Aglaea snaps, a little too fast. “I only wear them when I’m working on my laptop. It’s for blue light protection, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Anaxa drawls, unconvinced. “Blue light protection. Definitely not because you're self-conscious.”

Aglaea shoots him a stern glare, though the effect is dulled slightly by the glasses. “Yes, it’s for protection.” She says firmly. “Besides, Teacher helped me pick them out when I was a child.”

Anaxa catches the slip immediately. “So you’ve had them for thousands of years. Interesting.”

“Y-yes, so what? Teacher said I looked pretty in them.”

Anaxa chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “If they said you looked pretty, why’d you stop wearing them?”

“Because…” Aglaea hesitates, then drops her voice. “After inheriting Mnestia’s divinity, I didn’t need my vision anymore. I could see more through my threads. But Teacher insisted I at least wear them when using my laptop. They liked how I looked in them, and since they often hang around my office while I work, I decided to indulge them.”

Anaxa nods, amused. “I get it. Honestly? I’d probably want to see you in them too. It’s… quite a sight.”

Aglaea narrows her eyes. “What? Do I look weird in them?” She reaches up to adjust her glasses, suddenly self-conscious.

“No, not weird. Just… different.” Anaxa closes his book, inspecting her more closely. “Actually, I think I like this look better. Much softer. Less like you’re about to murder someone.”

Aglaea shoots him a withering look and reaches to take the glasses off, but Anaxa catches her wrist.

“Don’t you dare take them off after what I just said.”

Aglaea pulls her hand free and folds her arms with a huff. “Hmph. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.”

A wide grin spreads across Anaxa’s face. “Very.”

Just then, a train attendant approaches with a food cart

“Would you like any drinks, Miss?” She asks politely.

Aglaea turns toward her. “Do you have any tea?”

The attendant nods. “We have jasmine and green tea.”

“I’ll have jasmine, thank you.”

She pours a steaming cup of jasmine tea and hands it to her, then turns to Anaxa.

“And for you, Sir?”

“Coffee, please.”

The attendant pours a hot cup of coffee before continuing.

“What would you both like for lunch later? We have a fish or beef set meal.”

Aglaea waves a hand lightly. “No need, thank you.”

Anaxa echoes, “I’ll pass too.”

The attendant gives them both a puzzled look before pushing the cart down the aisle.

Aglaea turns to Anaxa, raising a brow. “Why aren’t you getting lunch?”

Anaxa shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee. “Not hungry. I had breakfast.”

“Breakfast isn’t lunch.” Aglaea says sharply, folding her arms. “We’re not arriving in Aidonia until 8 pm. You’ll need to eat.”

Anaxa eyes her up and down. “Worry about yourself first. You didn’t order anything either.” He sips again. “You’re already slim enough. You’ll need substance if you plan to survive your precious diplomacy talks.”

“That’s irrelevant.” Agalea huffs in annoyance. “Besides, Teacher packed me lunch before I left.”

Anaxa raises a brow, surprised by the revelation. “They did?”

Aglaea sighs, rubbing her temple. “Yes. Something about making sure I eat properly on the train. Apparently it’s my favorite.”

“How thoughtful.” Anaxa leans back, amused. “So… are you going to eat it?”

“I will, later.”

Aglaea sets her cup aside, tucking her laptop into her handbag, and pulling out a glossy fashion magazine.

Anaxa eyes the cover curiously. On the cover page, Hyacine, Tribbie, Trinnon, and Trianne are dressed in frilly, floral outfits, lounging in a field of wildflowers with several chimeras weaving playfully between them. The title reads: Spring Sweethearts.

“Did you design that?”

Aglaea glances up at him. “Yes, I did. Teacher and Hyacine told me that they were invited to model and asked if I could help with the outfit.”

Anaxa chuckles. “Since when do you have that much free time?”

Aglaea rolls her eyes. “I barely spent any time on it. My Garmentmakers handled most of the work. Sewing and styling are hardly a challenge. I am the Dressmaster of Okhema, after all. Just because I stopped making clothes after becoming a demigod doesn’t mean I’ve lost my touch.”

“Right, of course.” Anaxa smirks. “Well, I’ll admit. You made my teaching assistant look pretty cute.”

Aglaea taps the cover title. “That is the theme. “Spring Sweethearts”. I think it turned out well. I do wish I had more time for fashion, but the future of Amphoreus takes priority over personal whims.”

“How noble of you.” Anaxa says, mockingly.

Aglaea flips through the pages with a soft sigh, while Anaxa returns to his book. Silence settles over them again.

After a while, Anaxa feels a soft weight on his shoulder. He turns slightly and sees that Aglaea has fallen asleep, her head resting against him. The magazine lies open on her lap, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose. She looks completely at peace.

Anaxa scowls inwardly. Oh great. She fell asleep on me.

Then he looks at her again. Her expression is serene, almost vulnerable, something Aglaea never shows in public. She actually looks kinda cute like this. Poor thing must’ve been exhausted from work.

With a soft sigh, Anaxa drapes his coat over her shoulders, careful not to wake her. Then he leans his head gently against hers and closes his eyes, letting the soft rhythm of the train lull him into rest.

A few hours later.

Aglaea starts stirring in her sleep as a sharp pain jolts through her stomach, followed by a loud grumble. Her eyes snap open.

She stiffens, suddenly aware of Anaxa’s coat wrapped around her, and realises in horror that she’s been leaning against him the entire time.

Anaxa’s head still rests lightly against hers.

Aglaea’s cheeks warm as she sits up quickly, removing her glasses and tucking them into her handbag along with the magazine.

Her stomach growls again, louder this time. She winces and curls forward slightly, clutching her stomach in pain.

Beside her, Anaxa stirs at her movements and blinks at her blearily. He then notices the tension in her posture.

“Is something wro—?”

Before he can finish, a loud growl comes from his stomach. Anaxa freezes, then sits up abruptly and folds his arms over his midsection, face flushing. “Ugh.”

Aglaea turns at the sound. “Are you hungry?” 

Without waiting for his reply, she immediately pulls a white lunchbox from her bag, adorned with gold butterflies and floral designs, and holds it out to him. “Here. You can have my lunch.”

Anaxa stares at the lunchbox, surprised. “Are you sure? Isn’t this yours?”

Aglaea waves a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m not that hungry. And you look like you’re about to pass out.” She flashes a practiced smile, even as her other hand subtly tightens over her abdomen.

Too focused on his own embarrassment and hunger to notice, Anaxa takes the lunchbox. “Alright, thanks.”

He opens the lunchbox. Inside is oatmeal tinted golden with saffron.

“This is your favourite?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

Aglaea gives him a warning glare. “Stop judging and eat.”

With a reluctant sigh, Anaxa picks up the delicate gold-trimmed spoon beside it. I can’t believe I’m using her cutlery. He takes a bite, then pauses. It’s not bad, slightly sweet. A little too mushy for his taste, but warm and oddly comforting.

He keeps eating. Aglaea watches him for a moment, then presses a hand to her stomach under the cover of her handbag, her smile slipping for just a moment.

Anaxa notices the shift in her expression and raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing.” He adds, voice firm.

Aglaea hesitates, before muttering. “I’m just… a bit motion sick, that’s all.”

Anaxa reaches his hand out and gently takes her chin, turning her face toward him. He studies her carefully—pale cheeks and slightly drawn eyes.

She looks more hungry than motion sick. Is she trying to hide it for my sake? Or is she seriously trying to starve herself? Whatever the reason is, he knows how to handle it.

Anaxa releases her chin. “Motion sickness, huh? I’ve got something for that.”

He pulls a small white pill from his pocket and holds it out.

Aglaea eyes it suspiciously. “Is this another one of your experimental potions?”

“No.” He says dryly. “It’s actual medication. Hyacine packed it for me, just in case.”

Reluctantly, Aglaea takes the pill and swallows it using the tea. “Thank you. I feel much better now.” She says, not quite convincingly.

When Aglaea opens her eyes again, she’s met with a spoonful of oatmeal hovering near her mouth.

She scowls. “What is the meaning of this, Anaxagoras?”

“The medicine works better with food.” Anaxa says matter-of-factly. “So open up. Unless you'd like me to feed you like a child.”

He begins mimicking airplane noises and motions with the spoon.

Aglaea rolls her eyes. “You’re insufferable.” But she opens her mouth anyway.

He gently feeds her the spoonful of oatmeal, grinning triumphantly. “There we go. That’s a good girl. I’m sure your Teacher would be very pleased to know her precious student is taking proper care of herself on this business trip.”

Aglaea gives him a death glare. “Ha ha. Very funny, Performer.”

She grabs the spoon from him. “I’m sure Hyacine would also be pleased to know you didn’t let yourself waste away either. So open up.”

Without waiting, she shoves a bite into his mouth.

“Mmf—hey! A little warning next time!” Anaxa coughs slightly, wipes the corner of his mouth, snatches the spoon back, and gives her another spoonful. “You’re the leader of the Chrysos Heirs. You should take better care of yourself!”

“And you’re their teacher. You shouldn’t look like you’ve skipped three meals!” Aglaea retorts, taking the spoon, and feeding him again.

Anaxa narrows his eyes, frustrated at her behaviour. “Enough, Aglaea! Unless you want me to tell Tribbie you’ve been starving yourself, I suggest you finish the oatmeal she lovingly prepared.” He says sternly.

Aglaea scoffs. “Teacher would understand I didn’t eat because I made sure you did. And I’m sure Hyacine would love to hear how stubborn you’re being.”

“You’re impossible!” Anaxa mutters.

“You’re worse!” Aglaea fires back.

“Just eat the damn oatmeal!” Anaxa snaps. In a burst of frustration, he pins her arms and forcing another spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth.

Aglaea lets out a muffled shriek, coughing and sputtering. “What was that for?! Let me go!”

“No. This is for your own good!” Anaxa insists, struggling to hold her still as he feeds her again.

Aglaea’s eyes flash in anger. With a snap of her fingers, golden threads unfurl from her hands and coil tightly around Anaxa’s torso, yanking him off her.

Anaxa groans, scowling as he shuts the now-empty lunchbox. “Hmph. Well… at least you ate most of it.”

“You’re so annoying!” Aglaea snaps, retracting her threads. Faint red marks linger on his skin where they were wrapped.

Ignoring the marks, Anaxa pulls out his handkerchief and gently wipes a smear of oatmeal from her lips.

“You should let others take care of you once in a while, Aglaea.” He says more softly. “You don’t have to work yourself to the bone.”

Aglaea crosses her arms tightly. “I’m perfectly fine with the way I’ve been doing things. It’s worked for the past thousand years.”

“And it’s a bad habit you’ve perfected.”

Aglaea narrows her eyes. “You talk as if you don’t have the exact same habit.”

Anaxa smirks. “Which makes me the expert.”

Suddenly, the train attendant approaches hurriedly, looking mildly alarmed.

“Is everything alright? There was quite a bit of commotion coming from your seat.”

Both Aglaea and Anaxa turn to her in perfect sync, their expressions calm, as if nothing happened.

“It’s nothing. Just a little disagreement,” Aglaea replies smoothly, voice perfectly composed.

The attendant nods slowly. “I see. Is there anything you require before I leave?”

“No, it’s fine—”

“Do you have any snacks we could have?” Anaxa cuts in before Aglaea can finish.

The attendant perks up. “Of course! I’ll bring some right away.”

As she walks off briskly, Aglaea turns to him, clearly annoyed. “That better be for you.”

Anaxa smiles with faux innocence. “We’ll see.”

Moments later, the attendant returns with two neatly wrapped packets of black sesame and taro twist bread, an Aidonian specialty, swirled with deep purple and charcoal-black dough.

“Here you go. Enjoy the rest of your ride!” She says with a smile, handing over the bread before leaving.

Aglaea eyes the pastry. It’s shaped into a perfect spiral, the black and purple marbled together in glossy ribbons.

“Aren’t you going to try it?” Anaxa asks, already tearing open his packet. He takes a bite and hums in satisfaction. “Mmm. There’s mochi inside, with taro and black sesame filling too. It’s really good.”

Aglaea crosses her arms and sets the pastry aside. “I already ate oatmeal, remember?” She gives him an annoyed look.

“A little bread won’t ruin your figure.” Anaxa comments, waving his half-eaten snack near her face. “It’s delicious. Just try it.”

Aglaea swats his hand away and glares at him. “I think I’ll save this for Cas. She likes these.”

Anaxa shrugs, taking another bite. “You can always buy more in Aidonia. And who knows if it’ll survive a few more days in your bag? Might as well enjoy it fresh.”

Under his persistent gaze, Aglaea finally sighs and unwraps the bread. She takes a small bite, and her expression softens almost immediately.

“Happy now?”

Anaxa smirks. “Very. Told you it was good.”

Aglaea chews on the bread thoughtfully, then gives a reluctant nod. “Yes, yes. You’re right. The flavors blend well, and the mochi gives it a satisfying mouthfeel. Chewy, but not too dense.”

Anaxa leans back, smug. “Knew you’d like it.”

Aglaea rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue, taking another bite.

Suddenly, a soft chime sounds through the train car, followed by a clear announcement:

“Arriving at Aidonia Central Station in ten minutes. Please prepare to disembark.”

Anaxa turns to Aglaea, stretching his arms slightly. “Just curious, where are you staying?”

Aglaea pulls out her phone, swiping the screen. “The Dragonbone Hotel. Apparently it’s very luxurious. Cas recommended it to me.”

Anaxa raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? That’s where I’m staying too. Hyacine helped me book it. Said Castorice told her it’s the best hotel in town.”

Aglaea’s lips twitch. “What a coincidence.”

Anaxa hums and turns to the window. Beyond the frosted glass, Aidonia’s frozen kingdom spreads out in stark, haunting beauty. Jagged cliffs crowned with snow, ancient evergreens bowed under frost, and mausoleums carved into the mountains. A slow-moving mist winds between distant spires, and cloaking black-stone towers.

Ugh. Anaxa grimaces inwardly. Did they really get Castorice involved too? We can handle our relationship problems ourselves.

“I have someone picking me up.” Aglaea casually brings up, drawing his attention back. “Since we’re headed to the same place, you can come along if you want.”

Anaxa blinks, surprised. “What? Are you sure?”

Aglaea shrugs lightly. “Unless you’d prefer to hail your own taxi. Your choice.”

Anaxa contemplates it for a moment, then nods. “Very well. I’ll join you.”

As the train hisses to a stop. Aglaea hands Anaxa his coat back, then slings her handbag over her shoulder and steps off the train.

Anaxa watches her go, then sighs and slips on his coat. He retrieves his briefcase from the overhead compartment and exits a moment later.

But when he steps onto the platform, Aglaea’s nowhere in sight.

He exhales sharply. Of course she left immediately after inviting me. Typical Aglaea.

Anaxa shakes his head in resignation, and makes his way through the station, navigating the post-arrival chaos. After a few standard checks, he reaches the pick-up point, where he immediately spots a familiar figure.

Aglaea stands near the curb, slightly hunched over her phone, fingers moving quickly as she texts her associate. She doesn’t even notice Anaxa approaching.

He walks up beside her, voice dry. “Am I still invited, or are you planning to abandon me twice in one day?”

Aglaea turns towards him, startled. “Oh—you’re here. Sorry, I had to take care of something, so I went ahead.”

Anaxa narrows his eyes, unconvinced. “Right. ‘Something’. Let me guess, you probably just wanted to get away from me as soon as possible.”

Aglaea scoffs at his accusation. “That’s not true. It was a confidential phone call. And for the record, you’re still invited.”

Just then, a sleek black Mercedes pulls up to the curb, its polished surface reflecting off the station’s lights. The door opens, and a well-dressed gentleman in a tailored tuxedo steps out. He gives a formal bow.

“Lady Aglaea, welcome to Aidonia. I’m Caelum, and I’ll be your escort and aide during your stay. Please, allow me to assist you with your bag.”

He takes her handbag with practiced ease.

Aglaea offers a polite smile. “Thank you, Caelum. This is my colleague, Anaxagoras. He’s also staying at the Dragonbone Hotel. Would it be alright if he joined us?”

She gestures toward Anaxa.

Caelum turns to him with a gracious smile. “Of course. A pleasure to meet you, Lord Anaxagoras. May I take your case?”

Anaxa nods, handing over the briefcase. “Nice to meet you as well, Caelum. I appreciate the ride.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Please, this way.”

Caelum opens the rear door with a flourish.

Anaxa steps aside and gestures. “Ladies first.”

Aglaea slips inside without a comment, and he follows shortly after. Once they’re both seated, Caelum closes the door behind them and smoothly slides into the driver’s seat.

As the car pulls away from the station, he glances at them through the rearview mirror.

“So, how was the train ride? Five hours, was it? You must be exhausted.”

“It was fine. I managed to get some rest and finish a bit of work.” Aglaea answers evenly.

“That sounds productive.” Caelum nods approvingly. “You’re scheduled to meet with Lady Amunet tomorrow morning at 8 am. I’ll pick you up an hour before the appointment. Tonight, feel free to relax and settle in.”

“Understood. Thank you.” 

They drive a little farther before Caelum adds, “By the way, have either of you had dinner? If not, I can recommend some excellent places nearby.”

“Oh, it’s alright—” Aglaea starts.

“Actually, that’s a great idea.” Anaxa interrupts, leaning forward slightly. “Do you have any favorites?”

Aglaea shoots him a glare, which he ignores, pretending not to notice.

Caelum perks up. “You’ve asked the right person. I’m something of a local food connoisseur. I even run a small food review blog, though that’s beside the point.” He chuckles lightly.

“There’s a fantastic Aidonian restaurant just a block from the Dragonbone Hotel. If you go, order the Sweet Potato Casserole. It’s a local specialty, creamy and slightly spiced. You won’t regret it.”

Anaxa grins. “Sounds perfect. Thanks for the recommendation.”

Aglaea turns to the window, expression unreadable as the car glides through the frost-laced streets.

They eventually arrive at the Dragonbone Hotel, its sleek silhouette rising like a dark monolith against the snowy skyline. Caelum steps out first and opens the door for them with a courteous bow.

“Would you like me to drive you to the restaurant after you’ve settled in?”

Aglaea waves a hand dismissively. “That won’t be necessary. We’ll make our own way. You've already done more than enough.”

Caelum nods with a smile and returns to the driver’s seat, the car driving off moments later.

Aglaea looks over at Anaxa. “Well, I suppose this is where we part ways.”

“Not so fast, Goldweaver. We’ve still got dinner, remember?”

Aglaea crosses her arms. “I don’t recall you actually asking me to dinner.”

Anaxa sighs, half-exasperated. “Alright, fine. Will you go out to dinner with me, Aglaea? My treat.”

Aglaea gives him a measured look, then smirks faintly. “I suppose going out with you won’t kill me. I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes.”

With that, she turns and disappears into the hotel.

Anaxa watches her retreating figure, exhaling through his nose. That woman sure knows how to keep things strictly professional. I can’t believe I actually asked her out. Maybe Hyacine’s meddling is rubbing off on me more than I thought.

Anaxa enters the hotel lobby and checks into his room. He sets his briefcase down on the table, and hangs his coat on the hook behind the door. His eyes drift over to the nearby mirror.

Should I change? Knowing Aglaea, she’ll probably dress like it’s a formal gala, even if it’s just dinner. If I don’t match her energy, I’ll probably end up looking like her underdressed assistant.

Anaxa opens his briefcase and pulls out a neatly folded dark green suit. Hyacine had insisted he pack it “just in case” and now it’s painfully clear that she knew exactly what she was doing.

After changing into his suit, Anaxa adjusts his tie and checks his reflection in the mirror. He reties his ponytail, smooths his bangs, and takes one last glance before heading out the door to meet Aglaea in the lobby.

Anaxa arrives at the lobby first, standing near the exit, adjusting the cuffs of his suit when the elevator dings softly behind him.

He glances over his shoulder just as the doors glide open.

Aglaea steps out.

She has changed into an elegant ivory silk evening gown embroidered with golden roses, a single gold rose tucked into her styled hair. She glides toward him with practiced grace, radiating quiet composure.

Anaxa straightens instinctively as she approaches.

“I thought you were going to ditch me again.” He says dryly.

Aglaea stops in front of him, unfazed. “I’ve considered it. But I’m curious about Aidonian cuisine, so I decided to come.”

Anaxa a smirks tugs at his lips. “So is that confirmation you’ll eat a lot?”

Aglaea scoffs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m just going to try a few things. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“Oh, really?” Anaxa raises an eyebrow and folds his arms. “Because I’ve heard from Tribbie that you used to sneak out for oatmeal every night when you were younger. Said you had a legendary appetite.”

He chuckles, then adds with mock-seriousness, “Did inheriting Mnestia’s divinity also suppress your hunger?”

Aglaea’s cheeks flush slightly. “T-that’s different. After I became a demigod, I was always too busy to eat regularly. My appetite just... adjusted. Like how you forget to eat when you’re buried in one of your blasphemous experiments.”

Anaxa raises both hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Let’s not argue in the middle of a... date. I’ll call a taxi.”

Aglaea adjusts her hairpiece. “No need. I already checked. The restaurant’s just a few steps away. We’re walking.” She says casually.

Anaxa blinks. “Wait? We’re walking? Since when does the Goldweaver walk anywhere?”

Aglaea gives him a cool sideways glance. “What? Can’t handle a short stroll, Performer?”

“I just didn’t expect you to walk. I figured you were contractually bound to be chauffeured everywhere.”

Aglaea huffs and turns on her heel, chin lifted as she strides toward the doors without a word.

“Hey! Wait up!”

Anaxa jogs after her and gently grabs her free hand.

Aglaea stiffens for a moment. His hand is surprisingly warm against her cool skin.

She turns her head slightly, pretending to examine the shopfronts as a faint blush creeps onto her cheeks. She could pull away, but she doesn’t.

Anaxa glances over, catching the flush on her face. The setting sun paints her skin in an amber hue, the color vivid against her pale complexion.

Cute. She’s way easier to tease than she lets on.

“So… any interesting shops?” Anaxa asks, voice light.

“Hmm?” Aglaea turns back to him smoothly, as if nothing happened. “There are a few places selling local snacks. I’ll check them out later.”

“For Castorice, right?”

“Mhm.”

They continue walking, still hand in hand. Aglaea hums a quiet tune, her voice soft and in perfect pitch. It’s the kind of effortless grace that only comes from professional training. Anaxa suspects she must’ve had singing lessons, though he wouldn’t be surprised. Singing is a form of beauty, and beauty is sacred to Mnestia’s priests.

Anaxa watches her, quietly noting down every little detail. Aglaea’s meticulous. Poised. Frustrating. And yet... he keeps watching. Keeps listening. She’s not easy to read, but there’s something about her that pulls him in.

Maybe it’s Cerces’ Coreflame stirring.

He shakes the thought away.

No, that’s not it. It can’t be it. Can it?

Soon, they arrive at the restaurant. The sign reads: The Amber Hearth.

It’s cozy Aidonian bistro tucked into a stone terrace framed by ivy and frost-covered lanterns. Golden light spills from its windows, revealing a cozy interior filled with warm wood, velvet seating, and the soft clinking of silverware. The scent of roasted root vegetables and fragrant spices greets them at the door.

Anaxa releases Aglaea’s hand and steps ahead to pull the door open.

“After you, milady.”

Aglaea steps inside with quiet grace. Almost unconsciously, her free hand lifts to brush the spot where his warmth still lingers.

Anaxa watches her, expression unreadable.

So, beneath all that cold elegance… she still craves affection.

Hmph. He smiles. Fitting, for a Mnestia’s priestess.

Aglaea walks up to the counter. “A table for two, please.”

“Right this way, Miss.”

The waiter leads them to a quiet corner of the restaurant, pulling out a chair for Aglaea and placing a menu in front of her with a polite smile.

“Take your time to look through the menu. I’ll return shortly to take your orders.”
With a courteous bow, he disappears.

Anaxa settles into the seat across from her, tapping his fingers lightly against the polished wood.

“Looks like the number one beauty of Okhema strikes again.” He says with a teasing grin.

Aglaea glances up from the menu and scowls. “That’s not it. He’s just doing his job.”

“He definitely treated you better than me. I don’t think he even made eye contact with me.”

“Order.” Aglaea says curtly, ignoring his comment. She slides the menu across the table to him.

Anaxa tilts his head. “You’re done already?”

Aglaea leans back in her chair, unlocking her phone. “I know what I want.”

Anaxa opens the menu and flips through the pages. A few unfamiliar names catch his eye:

Frostleaf Tartlets — Flaky pastries filled with sweetened snow-pear and topped with crystallised herb sugar.

Obsidianroot Stew — A rich, spiced root vegetable dish simmered with Aidonian wine.

Snowfish Sashimi — Delicate slices of pale blue river fish, served over chilled rose-vine jelly.

Iceflour Dumplings — Cool, stuffed dumplings made with frostleaf and ground moon-chick, famed for their addictive coldness.

“Cold dumplings, raw fish, and glowing jelly…” Anaxa mutters, half-impressed. “Aidonia really knows how to put a twist on things.”

The waiter returns with a notepad in hand. “Are you ready to order?”

Anaxa looks up and nods. “I’ll have the Obsidianroot Stew.”

The waiter jots it down, then turns to Aglaea. “And for you, Miss?”

Aglaea sets her phone aside. “I’ll have the Snowfish Sashimi.”

“Any drinks for either of you?”

Aglaea shakes her head politely. “No, thank you. I’m good.”

Anaxa flips the menu once more. “Two cups of Glacier Spring tea, Sweet Potato Casserole, Frostleaf Tartlets, and a plate of Iceflour Dumplings. That’ll be all.”

With a courteous nod, the waiter collects their menus and disappears.

Aglaea narrows her eyes at him. “Why did you order so much food? We’re not like Phainon and Mydei. You know we can’t eat like them.”

Anaxa shrugs, unbothered. “True, we don’t have their bottomless stomachs. But didn’t you say you were going to try a few things?” He grins. “Pretty sure one sashimi plate doesn’t count as ‘a few.’ And if we can’t finish, we’ll take it back to Okhema. I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind trying out Aidonian delicacies.”

Aglaea sighs, clearly exasperated. “Do whatever you want, Performer. It’s your money.”

“Exactly.” Anaxa leans back with a smirk. “All you have to do is taste everything and give me your expert verdict.”

Aglaea chuckles, her lips curling despite herself. “I didn’t realise I’ve been promoted to taste tester.”

“Of course.” Anaxa says smoothly. “A refined lady like yourself must have impeccable taste.”

The waiter returns, expertly balancing two large trays. One by one, he sets the dishes down.

Anaxa’s Obsidianroot Stew arrives first. It’s thick and fragrant, its deep crimson broth bubbling slightly in a carved blackstone bowl. Hints of Aidonian spice waft up alongside the earthy aroma of slow-cooked game and root vegetables.

Next is Aglaea’s Snowfish Sashimi. Delicate blue-white slices of fish arranged in a spiral over a translucent bed of rose-vine jelly. Tiny edible flowers dot the edge like a crown.

Then, it’s the Sweet Potato Casserole. It’s made from purple sweet potatoes, topped with a crisp oat crust and a light honey glaze.

After that is the Frostleaf Tartlets. The tarts glimmer faintly under powdered sugar, their floral scent subtle but sweet.

Lastly, the Iceflour Dumplings arrive on a chilled glass platter, each one shaped like a crescent moon, lightly steamed despite their frozen core.

Two porcelain cups of Glacier Spring tea are placed beside their plates. The tea is crystal-clear, emitting a subtle, minty chill.

“Wow, that was fast.” Anaxa reaches for his spoon. “Let’s eat.”

They begin to dig in. Aglaea takes small, measured bites, elegant and controlled. While Anaxa is less formal, though still careful, occasionally murmuring an impressed “mm” or “interesting.”

Every so often, without asking, Anaxa drops a tartlet or a dumpling onto Aglaea’s plate. Each time, she shoots him a frosty glare, her brows twitch in mild disapproval.

In retaliation, she refills his teacup with quiet precision. Every time he takes a sip, she pours more into his cup until it’s full to the brim.

Their silent war of passive-aggressive generosity continues for several minutes, neither willing to break the silence with words.

Finally, Anaxa sets down his chopsticks and leans back, patting his full stomach. “So,” he says, brushing a stray crumb from his lapel, “which dish was your favorite?”

Aglaea wipes her mouth with a napkin, arching a brow. “Since you suggested it, why don’t you start?”

Anaxa taps his fingers thoughtfully on the table. “The Frostleaf Tartlets. Crisp on the outside, warm and sweet on the inside. I also like how the herbs linger on the tongue.”

Aglaea gives a dry smile. “How fitting. A Performer who appreciates something subtle and nuanced.”

“Your turn.” Anaxa steeples his fingers, watching her expectantly.

Aglaea pokes at the remnants of her sashimi, then sets her chopsticks down. “The Snowfish Sashimi. It was expertly prepared with clean cuts, minimal seasoning, letting the natural flavor shine. The rose-vine jelly adds a floral note, but I would have preferred a bit more acidity to balance the sweetness.”

Anaxa raises an eyebrow, impressed. “You sound like you’ve judged a culinary contest before.”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve judged several.” Aglaea states, her tone calm, almost proud.

Anaxa chuckles. “I should’ve known.”

After they’re done eating, there’s still plenty of food left on the table. Aglaea signals the waiter with a subtle nod as he passes. “Could we have these packed, please?” She asks, folding her napkin with delicate precision.

The waiter nods and gathers the plates, wrapping the leftovers into neat containers before heading to the kitchen.

Anaxa rises from his seat, brushing crumbs from his sleeves. “I’ll handle the bill.” He says smoothly, weaving through the softly lit dining room toward the counter.

Aglaea watches him go, before gathering her things and following him out few moments later.

Outside, as the last threads of twilight fade, most shops along the narrow cobblestone lane have already closed down for the night.

“I didn’t realize the shops close this early.” Aglaea says, glancing at the darkened windows with a hint of disappointment. “I guess I’ll have to do my shopping tomorrow after my meeting with Lady Amunet.”

Anaxa falls into step beside her, hands tucked in his pant pockets. “I’ll be done with my business in the afternoon too. If you’re free... maybe we could hang out again?”

Aglaea turns to him, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Since when did you enjoy my company so much that you’re asking me out twice?”

A slow grin curves across Anaxa’s lips. “Maybe I’m starting to appreciate having someone who keeps me on my toes.”

Aglaea lets out a soft laugh. “Is that your way of saying I’m good company?”

Anaxa glances at her sideways, eyes gleaming with quiet humour. “More than good. Unpredictable. And strangely... enjoyable.”

Aglaea’s lips twitch slightly despite herself, a brief softness slipping through her usual composure. “Well then... I guess I’ll indulge you.”

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze half-amused. “So, when and where are we meeting?”

Anaxa hums, pretending to think it over. “How about 1 pm at the hotel? That should give you plenty of time to finish your meeting with Lady Amunet, and look your usual divine self.”

Aglaea rolls her eyes, but the corner of her mouth lifts anyway.

“We can do some shopping, browse the stores, maybe grab some souvenirs for the rest of the Chrysos Heirs.”

Then, with a little smirk, he adds. “And we’ll have afternoon tea... but I’ll leave that part as a surprise.”

Aglaea shakes her head with a quiet laugh, folding her arms as they walk back to the hotel. “I’ll be looking forward to it, then.”

Anaxa glances at her from the side, catching the subtle sparkle in her eye.

“Good. So will I.”

Chapter Text

The next day, at exactly 1 p.m.

Anaxa steps through the revolving glass doors and into the cool, polished lobby. He scans the place, but there’s no sign of Aglaea.

Early. Again.

Anaxa exhales, though it is more amused than impatient. He makes his way to the lounge adjacent to the front desk. The area is tastefully decorated in dark tones and brushed brass, with velvet couches arranged around low tables adorned with crystal vases and tiny bowls of frosted fruits.

Anaxa drops onto one of the couches with lazily, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. Today he’s dressed more casually. He's wearing a fitted black turtleneck under a dark green coat, paired with loose black jeans.

He drums his fingers on the armrest, eyes shifting between the lobby doors and the gilded clock on the wall. Five minutes pass.

Then the doors glide open with a soft hiss.

Aglaea strides in, a few slim folders tucked under one arm. Her cheeks are faintly flushed and she’s slightly out of breath, though she conceals it with her usual composure.

She wears an ivory midi dress with structured shoulders and a subtle twist detail at the waist. Over it, a black blazer trimmed in gold piping giving a refined, almost regal edge. Her hair is swept back into a sleek low twist. She looks like someone who’s just walked out of a closed-door negotiation with three diplomats and came out on top.

Aglaea's gaze sweeps across the lobby with clinical precision, until it lands on him.

Anaxa watches her approach, a faint, crooked smile forming on his lips.

“Apologies for the delay,” Aglaea says as she reaches him, adjusting her blazer with practiced precision. “The meeting went on longer than expected.” She exhales lightly and shifts the documents in her arms.

Anaxa rises to greet her, his eyes flicking from her tailored ensemble down to his own far more casual look.

“Well,” he says with a smirk, “I see one of us took this date very seriously.”

Aglaea rolls her eyes and lightly taps the top of Anaxa’s head with the edge of her file. “You’re lucky I’m tired.” She says flatly. “If I had more energy, I’d have you tied up with my thread and dangle you from the ceiling by now.”

Anaxa chuckles, rubbing his chest with exaggerated offense. “You wound me. I show up on time, greet you with charm, and this is the thanks I get? Abuse from a diplomat. You must’ve really enjoyed that meeting.”

“If by ‘enjoy’ you mean enduring two hours of circular arguments and veiled threats, then yes. I had a fantastic time.”

Anaxa raises a brow. “No wonder you’re in such a good mood.”

Aglaea shoots him a look so sharp he half-raises his hands in mock surrender, though the sly grin on his lips doesn’t budge.

“Alright, alright.” Anaxa concedes, straightening up. “We should get going. The souvenirs aren’t going to buy themselves.”

Aidonia — Shopping District

They arrive at the shopping district, now much more alive than the quiet streets of yesterday. The afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the crowd thronging the sidewalks. Locals mingling with travelers, merchants calling out their wares, and children darting between stalls.

Jewellery shops gleam with sparkling gems, their displays meticulously arranged to catch the eye. Artisan shops spill colorful pottery and handwoven fabrics onto wooden tables, while souvenir shops brim with trinkets and keepsakes. Clothing stores showcase flowing silks and embroidered jackets, their fabrics fluttering gently in the breeze.

Anaxa strolls beside Aglaea, their footsteps blending with the lively chatter and occasional music from nearby performers. They pause a few times to admire some goods from the shops.

Eventually, their wandering brings them to a massive gift shop standing proudly at the center. Its walls painted with murals depicting Aidonia’s landscape and culture. Through the large glass windows, rows upon rows of goods are visible—racks of finely crafted clothes, shelves stacked with local delicacies, colourful ceramics, and glittering trinkets. The shop seems to promise everything one could want, all under one roof.

Anaxa gestures toward the entrance with a grin. “Aidonia Specialties. This looks like a good place to start.”

Aglaea pulls out a slim clipboard from her bag, flipping it open with practiced ease. She taps the top page with a slender finger and asks, “So, how shall we allocate the souvenir list?”

Anaxa blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Souvenir list?” He repeats, amusement flickering in his eyes.

With a faint smile, Aglaea flips through the clipboard, revealing neatly organized pages, each dedicated to a different Chrysos Heir. Names at the top, followed by carefully noted likes, interests, and preferred keepsakes.

“See,” she explains, “I’ve mapped out what each of them would appreciate most. Makes shopping more efficient and ensures we don’t bring back the wrong items.”

Anaxa raises an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “Well, I have to admit, that’s... surprisingly well organised.”

Aglaea nods, a gleam of quiet pride in her eyes. “It just proves that I care.”

She flips through a few more pages, then looks up at Anaxa with a decisive smile.

“You’ll be in charge of Hyacine, Phainon, and Castorice.” She says, tapping each name lightly with her pen. “Since you’re more acquainted with them.”

Aglaea then closes the clipboard gently. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Then, they split off at the entrance, each grabbing a woven shopping basket from the stack by the door.

Aglaea veers toward the far end of the store, where rows of trinkets, ornaments, and artisan toys line the shelves. The soft clinking of ceramic charms fills the air as she brushes past wind chimes and figurines. Her eyes land on a shelf displaying hand-carved dolls in traditional Aidonian garments.

Aglaea picks up a dancer doll with blue eyes and a swirling red dress, turning it in her hand thoughtfully.

“Hmm…” She murmurs to herself. “Which ones would teacher like?”

Her fingers hover between a scholarly-looking puppet with glasses and a regal figurine holding a miniature lyre. She frowns slightly, lips pursed in deliberation.

Meanwhile, Anaxa drifts toward the snack section. A wall full of colourful packaging greets him—Glacierberry Taffies, Frostleaf Crisps, and boxes of Candied Tubers neatly stacked beside artisan teas.

He plucks up a jar of Spiced Root chips, reading the label with mock seriousness.

“Phainon would destroy these in minutes.” He mutters with a smirk, dropping them into his basket.

As Anaxa moves down the aisle, he occasionally lifts a package to scan its label or sniff its contents before deciding whether to get it or not. 

He continues down the aisle, weaving between other shoppers with casual ease. His fingers trailing along the edge of a display when something colorful catches his eye. Crispy animal-shaped biscuits with frosted sugar edges and faint citrus notes. The packaging features a smiling Aidonian deer and a cheerful squirrel.

Hyacine will love these. Anaxa grabbing two boxes and dropping them into his basket without a second thought.

A little farther down, he finds a section stacked with spice-themed packaging—Smoked Chili wafers, Turmeric crisps, and Fire-roasted Root chips. The bold scent hits him as soon as he lifts a bag.

Perfect for Phainon. He adds a few fiery varieties to his growing haul.

Then, turning a corner, Anaxa comes upon a quieter, pastel-toned shelf. Sachets of tea-infused sweets, lavender caramels, and candied rose petals fill dainty boxes with gilded ribbons. He eyes a tray of crystallised violet bark and floral nougat before selecting a rose and jasmine blend wrapped in translucent paper.

For Castorice. Looks flowery enough for her tastes.

He smirks faintly to himself, then turns toward the front of the store to find Aglaea.

As Anaxa makes his way toward the front, he slows down near the artisan aisle, drawn by the soft gleam of hand-glazed pottery.

A row of whimsical mugs lines one shelf, each shaped into mystical creatures. His eyes drawn to one in particular.

A pegasus with soft white wings flared as the mug’s handle, its mane painted with pink and blue streaks curling around the rim.

Anaxa picks it up, inspecting the little creature’s wide, sparkly eyes.

“This looks just like Little Ica.” He mutters with a fond smile. “Hyacine’s going to love it.”

Anaxa carefully sets it in his basket and continues down the aisle.

Next, his hand lands on a small ceramic replica of a sun sword, its blade stylized in radiant amber with delicate inlays along the hilt. The craftsmanship is detailed, something Phainon would surely appreciate.

For the Phainon, to remind him of his duties. He drops it in with a soft thud.

Finally, near the far corner, a collection of porcelain dishware catches his eye. Butterflies in delicate purple tones dance across the surface elegantly.

This reminds me of Castorice. Anaxa tilts his head slightly, picking out a matching cup and saucer set. Might as well get it for her.

Satisfied, he adjusts the weight of the basket on his arm and heads off to checkout.

Meanwhile, Aglaea finishes arranging the chosen dolls into her basket—one with embroidered robes and a scroll for Tribbie, a stern-faced one holding a miniature sword for Trianne, and a figure playing the harp for Trinnon. She places them carefully between tissue-wrapped charms to avoid any damage.

Aglaea moves on, heels clicking lightly against the tiled floor as she weaves through the aisles and arrives at the section labeled “Traditional Men’s Figurines.” The shelves here are filled with miniature soldiers, sages, and mythical heroes.

Her gaze lands on a warrior doll clad in bronze-coloured armour, a flowing cape billowing dramatically behind him and a dragon crest embossed on his shield.

“This’ll suit Mydei’s tastes.” Aglaea mutters, smiling slightly, and adds it to her basket.

As she turns the corner, a small ceramic cat statue perched on a high shelf catches her eye. Its tail curled in a perfect spiral, painted silver with mischievous green glass eyes.

Perfect for Cifera. Aglaea plucks it from its pedestal with a practiced hand, nestling it between the dolls.

Soon she arrives at the clothing section. Racks of traditional and contemporary Aidonian attire hang in organised rows. She fingers through soft fabrics and vibrant patterns, her expression thoughtful.

Aglaea pulls out three matching outfits in children sizes. They have flowing capes with subtle gold embroidery and little sashes tied at the waist. One in royal blue, another in forest green, and the last in a warm red.

For teacher.

Aglaea then moves to the adult racks, scanning until she finds a deep maroon tunic set with reinforced shoulders and bronze stitching. Giving it a strong and refined look.

She nods in approval. Mydeimos would look dashing in this.

And finally, a dark purple cloak dress with a tailored waist and an attached hood, lined with soft velvet. 

This looks like something Cifera would wear.

With her basket now full and her list nearly complete, Aglaea turns on her heel and heads toward the front of the store.

At the front of the store, Anaxa stands by the cashier counter, several paper shopping bags already hanging from one hand. He leans casually against a support beam, watching the steady stream of customers file through the registers.

Then, he spots Aglaea stepping up to the counter, her basket brimming with carefully chosen goods. As the cashier begins to ring them through, she stands with that same composed posture, though a faint trace of fatigue flickers in her eyes.

Anaxa watches her quietly, noting how she confirms each price and neatly arranges the items into bags as they’re handed over. When she finally turns, arms full of shopping bags, he pushes off the pillar and strolls over.

“Let me take some for you.” He says smoothly, already reaching for the handles before she can object. 

Aglaea gives him a sidelong look, but relinquishes the bags without a word, though her lips twitch faintly.

As they step out of the shop, the soft chime of the door closing behind them, Aglaea shifts the bags in her arms and glances sideways.

“So,” she says, adjusting her blazer, “where to next?”

Anaxa tilts his head, scanning the street. His gaze lands on a store across the road, its sign gilded and ornate, with elegant necklaces glinting in the window.

“Since we’ve still got time before my reservation, why don’t we check out that jewellery shop?” He nods toward it.

Aglaea follows his line of sight, then raises a brow. “I was actually thinking we could stop by the bookstore instead.” She gestures down the street, where a modest storefront sits under a carved awning, its windows stacked with tomes and banners for new releases.

Anaxa glances at her, amused. “Since when were you into literature?”

Aglaea turns to face him fully, arching an eyebrow. “I could ask the same. Since when were you into jewellery?”

Anaxa offers a nonchalant shrug.

Aglaea narrows her eyes in mock suspicion. “Let me guess. You’re buying jewellery for someone? Should I be jealous?”

Anaxa chuckles. “What if I said yes?”

“I’d say I hope she has expensive taste. That’d serve you right.”

They pause, a beat of dry amusement passing between them. Finally, Anaxa exhales and tilts his head toward the bookstore.

“Alright, bookworm. Let’s go to the bookstore first.”

Aglaea gives a satisfied little nod and starts walking. “And here I thought a scholar like yourself would be more excited to read about Aidonian history.”

Anaxa chuckles softly, a glint of surprise in his eyes. “I am interested, but I didn’t realize you were, too.”

Aglaea simply hums in response, her lips curving into a faint, knowing smile, but she says nothing.

They step inside the bookstore together, the door closing behind them with a gentle click.

As they wander through the tall shelves, Aglaea’s eyes suddenly catch on a book with a beautifully illustrated cover—a scene of two figures entwined beneath a moonlit sky. Drawn to it, she steps closer and pulls it free from the shelf.

She flips it open and scans the pages quickly, her expression softening as she reads. The book is clearly a romance novel, its flowing prose and tender scenes pulling her in despite herself.

Anaxa notices her absorbed look and can’t help but smirk. “So, this is your secret hobby? Getting lost in love stories when no one’s watching?”

Aglaea shoots him a sharp look before playfully smacking him with the book’s cover. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She snaps, setting the book back on the shelf with care. “I’m looking for something more theoretical.”

Her tone is firm, but a faint flush on her cheeks betrays her true thoughts beneath her composed exterior.

They move deeper into the bookstore, the gentle creak of wooden floorboards accompanying their steps. The shelves shift from colorful fiction to muted spines and heavier tomes, signaling the transition to the academic section. This area is quieter, more secluded, with leather-bound volumes, historical commentaries, and treatises on philosophy, diplomacy, and regional politics arranged with meticulous order.

Aglaea runs her fingers lightly along the edges of the books as she walks, her gaze scanning titles with practiced efficiency. She pauses occasionally to tilt her head and read a spine more closely, pulling out a few volumes to skim the prefaces.

As Aglaea flips through a volume on post-war economic recovery strategies, her brow furrows slightly in thought. Then she glances sidelong at Anaxa, thoughtfully. What sort of books would he enjoy? She wonders. Something sharp, perhaps a little obscure. Dense but laced with irony. She reaches for a text on ancient rhetorical forms, considering it.

A few steps away, Anaxa has already pulled a couple of books from the shelf. He flips through one of them with one hand, the other tucked into his coat pocket, his gaze darting over the pages with idle interest. But his attention isn’t fully on the text.

At the back of his mind, the image of Aglaea holding the romance novel lingers. The quiet, absorbed look she had when she thought no one was watching. Her eyes soft, shoulders relaxed, lips curved ever so slightly. So different from the sharp, analytical look on her face now, examining foreign policy essays like they’re puzzles to be solved.

He closes one book with a quiet thump and glances down the aisle toward where she stands.

Would she be annoyed if I got it for her? Or flustered? He muses.

A slow, amused smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

Either way... it'd be worth it.

Anaxa lingers a moment longer in front of the academic shelf, eyes flicking between the dry titles in his hands and the memory of that soft expression on Aglaea’s face. Then, without a word, he quietly slips away.

He retraces his steps through the aisles, back toward the fiction section. The romance novel still sits exactly where she left it, nestled between florid epics and lovers dramas.

Anaxa flips through the pages, the poetic prose and swelling drama drawing a quiet chuckle from him. Definitely not theoretical. He tucks the book under his arm, sliding it behind one of his denser volumes on political theory. Just in case.

By the time he returns, Aglaea has a slim stack of texts in her basket. Two on Aidonian customs, one on rare diplomatic case studies, and a pocket-sized book of quotes from famous strategists. She glances up as he approaches.

“Find something you liked?”

“Mm.” Anaxa replies vaguely, holding up his own set of books. “Nothing as thrilling as yours, I’m sure.”

Aglaea arches a brow. “You say that like you didn’t grab a tome on secret power structures.”

“Just bedtime reading.” Anaxa replies smoothly, falling into step beside her as they head toward the counter.

At the register, while Aglaea engages with the bookkeeper in a brief discussion about historical bias in one of her selections, Anaxa quietly slides the romance novel to the bottom of his stack. The clerk scans it without a second glance, bagging everything neatly before handing over the wrapped parcels.

They exit the bookstore, the door chiming gently behind them, paper bags rustling in their hands. The afternoon light softens into a golden hue, casting long shadows across the street.

Anaxa tilts his head toward the jewellery shop across the way, its display windows catching the sunlight in shimmering bursts of gold and crystal. “Now that you’ve gotten your books, shall we check out the jewellery shop?”

Aglaea let’s out a small sigh. “Fine. But make sure to spend wisely.”

“Noted.” Anaxa grins, and they cross the street together.

Inside, the jewellery shop is quiet, its lighting warm and focused. Glass cases line the room, each one like a miniature treasure trove. Rings, pendants, earrings, and brooches sit nestled in velvet, glinting under the soft display lights. Classical music plays unobtrusively in the background, elegant and refined.

Anaxa moves with practiced ease, pausing here and there to admire a particularly ornate cuff or gem-encrusted brooch. Aglaea lingers a step behind, hands clasped neatly in front of her, her expression politely detached, but her gaze drifts to a row of delicate hairpins shaped like butterflies and dragons.

Glancing over at what Aglaea’s looking at, Anaxa leans in thoughtfully. “Castorice might like one of these.”

Aglaea arches a brow, a teasing lilt in her voice. “So Castorice is your secret someone? I see…”

Anaxa’s eyes twinkle with mischief as he steps a little closer, lowering his voice.

“Jealous?” He asks, a slow grin spreading across his face.

Aglaea rolls her eyes, a faint flush coloring her cheeks despite herself.

“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. You must be crazy to think I like you.”

Anaxa chuckles softly, shaking his head. “So the train ride and dinner date meant nothing?” He teases, raising an eyebrow.

Aglaea narrows her eyes, crossing her arms defensively. “Maybe they meant something... entirely different.”

Anaxa raises an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And what do you mean by that?” He asks, watching her closely.

Aglaea smirks faintly, brushing past him to inspect a nearby display. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Anaxa watches her for a beat, then casually reaches for the butterfly hairpin she had been eyeing earlier. He twirls it between his fingers, studying the delicate craftsmanship, before setting it back down on its velvet cushion.

Aglaea’s gaze flicks toward him. “Not getting it for Cas?”

Anaxa glances over with a half-shrug, his voice light. “Just trying to make it clear she isn’t my secret someone, that’s all. You can relax now.”

Aglaea scoffs softly, but doesn’t deny anything.

As they continue browsing, Aglaea drifts from case to case, her fingertips gliding just above the glass. Occasionally, she lifts a necklace or bracelet, tilting it to catch the light before slipping it briefly around her wrist or neck to glance at her reflection, then after a moment’s consideration, setting it gently back in place.

Anaxa watches her with quiet fascination, eyes tracing the subtle movements of her hands, the way she tilts her head when studying a necklace, the faint crease of concentration on her brow. He notes the styles she seems to favor: understated elegance, delicate craftsmanship, and, of course, gold.

While pretending to examine a shelf of signet rings, his gaze drifts and that’s when he sees it.

A small, heart-shaped locket nestled among a velvet-lined tray. The locket is framed in warm gold, its surface smooth and polished, with a single citrine gem set delicately in its center. The clasp opens easily, revealing a tiny frame inside, perfect for a photo.

Perfect. Anaxa thinks with a quiet smile. A locket like this could hold something personal, something meaningful. Now all he needs is the right moment to take a photo with her.

Anaxa’s gaze lingers on the locket as a sly smile creeps across his face. Actually, he already has the perfect photo.

He had secretly taken a few during their outings, a candid shot of Aglaea giggling as a Dromas licked her hand during their ice cream date, another of her adjusting those cute glasses on the train. All perfect blackmail material, if he ever needed it.

But instead of choosing those, his fingers brush the edge of a different photo on his phone.

The one of her crying.

It’s from that vulnerable moment when he injected her with his experimental potion during her fever. The raw emotion on her face, tears running down her cheeks, is a side of Aglaea he rarely sees.

The image of a demigod reduced to tears over a needle had always amused him. And yet, he had to admit, it was probably the only time he’d ever truly seen her cry, and he was the cause.

That fact alone makes him feel oddly proud.

What Anaxa doesn’t know is that while he’s quietly contemplating what picture to use, Aglaea has already picked up the very same one and is now at the counter, customising it.

She chooses an emerald gem, and for the photo inside, she selects one of Anaxa feeding a Dromas during their ice cream date.

Aglaea remembers how fond he is of those majestic creatures, and the candid warmth of that moment feels just right.

After securing the locket, Aglaea tucks the small box neatly into her handbag just as Anaxa approaches the counter.

“Found something?” She asks, her tone casual, almost too casual.

Anaxa freezes for a second. “Oh, uh, yes.” He replies, a bit too quickly. He can’t exactly customize it now, not with her watching. He needs to get her out of the store.

“Actually… I think I left my wallet at the bookstore.” He adds, feigning concern. “Would you mind going back to grab it for me?”

Aglaea tilts her head. “That’s fine. I can just pay for you, and you can repay me later.”

“No, no, no. I can’t do that.” Anaxa waves his hands frantically. “Besides, I’ll still need it later.”

Aglaea narrows her eyes slightly, then shrugs. “Fine.” She turns on her heel, stepping out of the jewellery shop without another word.

The door swings shut behind Aglaea with a soft jingle, and Anaxa exhales the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He immediately turns back to the counter, sliding the locket forward.

“I’d like to customise this.” He says, tapping the glass gently.

The clerk nods, reaching for the locket. “Do you have the photo ready?”

Anaxa pulls out his phone and scrolls, passing over happier snapshots until he lands on the one of Aglaea flushed and teary-eyed after he injected her with the potion. He holds the screen up.

“This one.”

The clerk leans forward, squinting slightly. Then they raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the lady from just now?”

Anaxa smirks. “Sharp eye.”

The clerk hesitates, muttering as they prepare the locket. “Weird guy... who chooses a photo of their partner crying?”

Anaxa only chuckles. “That’s the only time she let her guard down. Sentimental, isn’t it?”

The clerk mutters something else he doesn’t catch, but finishes the job without further comment.

As he waits, Anaxa drums his fingers against the counter, glancing every now and then at the door. He wonders how long it’ll take Aglaea to realize she’s been tricked. Not long, probably. But long enough.

When the locket is done, Anaxa flips open the small black box to check. The citrine gem gleams under the light, and inside, her tear-streaked face stares back at him. Perfect.

Satisfied, he tucks the box deep into his coat pocket just as the door opens again.

Aglaea steps back inside, arms folded. “Your wallet wasn’t at the bookstore.” She says flatly.

Anaxa gives her an innocent smile and smirks. “Was it not? Huh. Must’ve been in my other pocket.”

Aglaea narrows her eyes at him, then gestures at the counter. “You paid already?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Next time, check your other pocket before sending me on errands.” Aglaea smacks his arm lightly.

Anaxa raises his hands in mock surrender, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

“Alright, alright, no need to hit me.” He chuckles, rubbing his arm where Aglaea smacked him.

His eyes gleam with amusement as he adds, “I promise I’ll check all my pockets next time.”

As they step out of the jewellery shop, Anaxa pulls out his phone and glances at the screen.

“It’s almost 4 pm.” He says, tucking his phone away. “We should probably head to that afternoon tea place I reserved.”

He gestures down the street and starts leading the way. Soon, they arrive at a charming tea shop nestled between two quaint buildings. Handcrafted lavender and purple hydrangeas, dusted with snow, line the entrance.

The shop’s delicate sign swings gently in the breeze, inviting them inside for a peaceful respite.

They step inside, the scent of fresh herbs and blossoms immediately wrapping around them. A young waitress approaches with a warm smile, holding a reservation book.

“Good afternoon. Have you made a reservation with us?” She asks politely.

Anaxa nods smoothly. “Yes, under Anaxagoras.”

The waitress flips through the pages, then beams. “Ah, yes! Right this way, please.”

She leads them toward a large room at the back. As they enter, the space opens up like a secret garden. The floor is covered in soft, lush artificial grass, and the walls are adorned with wallpaper depicting a bright blue sky scattered with fluffy clouds and trailing vines dotted with colorful blossoms. Carefully crafted flower bushes line the edges of the room, mimicking the shapes and colors of a natural garden, completing the illusion.

In the center sits a single table for two, draped with a crisp white cloth embroidered delicately with floral patterns along its edges. Above the table, a garden arch decorated with blooming purple flowers frames the scene perfectly.

On the table rests an Aidonian-style porcelain tea set—delicate cups, a teapot, and a sugar bowl, all painted with intricate purple and gold motifs.

Anaxa gestures to the seat across from him, a satisfied smile on his face.

“The perfect spot for a quiet afternoon tea.”

Aglaea settles into her chair, smoothing the fabric of her outfit. “I should’ve worn something more elegant for this, but alas, I was short on time.” She laments.

Anaxa sits opposite her, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Hey, at least you’re wearing something formal. I showed up on time and could’ve changed into something more fitting, but I still chose to stick with my casual attire.”

Aglaea smirks, folding her arms. “At least you’re wearing something that doesn’t look like you just came out of a political debate.”

Anaxa chuckles, waving a hand. “Alright, enough about clothes. What tea would you like? I already selected the menu when I reserved the spot, so now it’s just about picking which tea we want.”

Aglaea picks up the tea menu, her eyes scanning the list with interest.

“I want to try something you can’t get in Okhema.” She says thoughtfully. “An Aidonia specialty. Maybe… Lavender Frostleaf Blackberry tea.”

Anaxa leans forward slightly, peering at the menu over her hands.

“You mean Amethyst Bloom.” He says, tapping the name printed just above the ingredients she listed.

Aglaea glances at the spot he’s pointing to, then promptly lifts the menu to hide her face.

“That’s what I meant.” She mumbles from behind it.

Anaxa uses a finger to gently push the menu down, revealing Aglaea’s flushed, embarrassed expression. His eyes sparkle with mischief as he teases,

“It’s not often the great Lady Goldweaver makes a simple mistake.”

Aglaea huffs, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Shut up. Just order the tea already.”

Anaxa chuckles softly and signals the waitress. “Two Amethyst Blooms, please.”

As the waitress nods and heads off, Anaxa leans back, still grinning.

“This is shaping up to be quite the afternoon.”

As they watch the waitress disappear through the door, a quiet pause settles between them. Then, almost in perfect sync, they turn toward each other and say.

“I have something to give you.”

Their eyes lock for a moment before they burst out laughing.

Aglaea raises her hand gracefully, covering her mouth with a delicate smile.

“You go first.” She says with a playful gleam in her eyes.

Anaxa shakes his head, a small grin tugging at his lips. “No, it’s alright. You go.”

Aglaea tilts her head thoughtfully. “How about we do it at the same time?”

Anaxa’s smile widens as he nods. “Alright, together then.”

They both reach into their bags and pull out their gifts simultaneously. 

Aglaea presents a small, carefully wrapped stack of books—one on Aidonian customs and a pocket-sized volume of quotes from famous strategists—along with an emerald heart-shaped locket.

Anaxa reveals his own gifts. The romance novel Aglaea had been reading at the bookstore, and a matching citrine heart-shaped locket.

Anaxa raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “So that’s why you were so interested in those Aidonian theoretical books.”

Aglaea meets his gaze, a soft smile curving her lips. “So, I’m your secret someone, huh?”

Anaxa’s smile deepens as he leans in slightly. “Maybe you are.”

Anaxa takes the emerald locket from Aglaea’s hand, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

“I wonder what photo you chose?” He muses aloud, flipping the clasp open with a practiced flick. Inside, he finds a candid shot of himself feeding a Dromas during their ice cream date.

“When did you take this?” Anaxa holds up the locket, mock accusatory.

Aglaea shrugs, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “When you weren’t watching, of course.”

Anaxa chuckles, mischief lighting up his face. “You should see what picture I picked for you.”

Aglaea narrows her eyes suspiciously but slides open her own locket. Her expression instantly hardens as she sees the photo of herself crying, the memory of Anaxa injecting her with his experimental potion flashing vividly in her mind.

Without hesitation, she snaps the locket shut with a sharp click, her cheeks flushed with irritation and something else.

“I chose a nice photo of you, and this is what I get!” She huffs, clearly annoyed.

Anaxa smirks. “What? I think it’s cute. Very vulnerable.”

“Why you—”

Before even finishes, Aglaea launches herself at him with sudden ferocity. The chair scrapes loudly against the floor as Anaxa topples backward, landing with a surprised grunt. Aglaea lands squarely on top of him, her body pressing firmly against his chest, her legs elevated and tangled with his.

Their breaths mingle in the charged space between them, her heart pounding fiercely as she holds him down, the flush in her cheeks deepening. Anaxa’s hands find her waist, steadying her, his usual grin softening into something warmer and less guarded.

Aglaea turns her face away, flustered, her cheeks tinged a soft pink.

“I probably should’ve thought this through.” She mumbles under her breath, avoiding his gaze as her fingers brace against his chest.

Beneath her, Anaxa lets out a low, amused laugh. “I have no regrets.” He leans in and presses a quick, feather-light kiss against her cheek.

Aglaea stiffens, caught off guard. She immediately tries to lift herself off him, but the angle is awkward and her knee slips against the smooth fabric of his coat. With a startled gasp, she collapses back onto him, her body sprawled inelegantly across his. Their faces end up mere inches apart. 

Anaxa grins lazily up at her. “What an honour.” He murmurs, voice rich with amusement. “To be granted such an up-close view of the Goldweaver herself. I shall savour this rare moment.”

Aglaea scowls, her face is still burning. “You’re insufferable.”

Just then, the door creaks open and the waitress steps in, carefully balancing a three-tiered tray piled high with delicate pastries and tea-time treats. She stops mid-step, eyes widening in at the sight.

She gasps and nearly drops the tray.

Aglaea and Anaxa snap their heads toward her, frozen in place, their faces flushed with embarrassment.

“Well... this is embarrassing.” Anaxa mutters under his breath.

Aglaea quickly scrambles off him, this time successfully managed to disentangle herself. She smooths her dress and steps aside, trying to reclaim a shred of dignity.

Anaxa rises a beat later, brushing off his coat as if nothing had happened.

“You can place the tray on the table, thank you.” He says smoothly, voice composed, though the faint flush on his cheeks gives him away.

The waitress, still a bit stunned, hesitates a moment before regaining her professional composure. With a small, awkward cough, she steps forward and sets the tray gently onto the table, careful not to make eye contact.

“Enjoy your tea.” She quickly says, her voice pitched a little too high, then turns on her heel and flees the room, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

For a moment, silence hangs awkwardly between them.

Aglaea sinks into her chair and buries her face in her hands with a groan. “By Kephale above, I hope she doesn’t recognize me.”

Anaxa chuckles, sliding into his seat with a smirk. “Who wouldn’t know the famous Goldweaver of Okhema?”

Aglaea parts her hands just enough to glare at him through her fingers. “You’re not helping.”

Anaxa leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, eyes gleaming with playful intent. “Well, if word gets around, you’ll just have to live up to the reputation.”

Aglaea snorts, finally lowering her hands. “As if I don’t have enough to deal with already.”

The waitress returns quietly, placing their ordered tea on the table before slipping out again.

Trying to ease the lingering embarrassment, Anaxa gently lifts the teapot and pours a stream of steaming Amethyst Bloom into Aglaea’s cup. The rich aroma of lavender, blackberry, and a faint herbal frost rises in delicate tendrils between them.

“Drink it while it’s warm.” He says softly, sliding the porcelain cup toward her.

Aglaea lifts her eyes to him, the blush on her cheeks fading as she wraps her hands around the warm cup. She takes a small sip.

A pause. Then she hums, her brows lifting slightly. “It’s sweet, but not overpowering… velvety. Like lavender honey and wild berries steeped in snowmelt.” She takes another sip, her posture beginning to relax.

Anaxa watches her with quiet satisfaction before gesturing to the three-tiered tray between them.

“Now, onto the real show.” He lifts the silver lid from the top tier. “I asked for a classic Aidonian spread.”

With a touch of theatrical flair, he gestures to the top tier. “Here we have mini honey-glazed fig tarts with candied violet petals, and almond shortbreads shaped like Aidonian sunbursts.”

He moves to the middle tier. “These are rose-scented scones with clotted cream and frostberry jam, very traditional. And finally,” he points to the bottom tier, “the savoury layer. Thyme-infused finger sandwiches, cucumber with soft cheese, and smoked mushroom pâté on golden brioche.”

Anaxa leans back slightly, watching her expression. “I made sure to pick ones that sounded seasonal and aesthetically excessive. Just how you like it.”

“It does look quite fancy.” Aglaea comments, her eyes scanning the delicate pastries, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at her lips.

Then, they begin eating. Aglaea dines with practiced grace, every movement precise and elegant—the careful spreading of cream and jam on her scone, the subtle extension of her pinky as she lifts her cup.

Across from her, Anaxa eats with relaxed ease, tearing a sandwich in half with his fingers and biting into it without ceremony. He watches her for a moment, amused.

“Do you like it?” He asks between bites.

Aglaea dabs at her mouth with a napkin and gives a small, content nod. “Yes. It’s lovely. You actually made a good choice for once.”

“High praise from Lady Goldweaver. I’m honoured.” He grins, reaching for a violet fig tart.

Aglaea rolls her eyes, taking another bite.

A comfortable silence settles between them as they enjoy their food. Then, Aglaea picks up an almond shortbread and bites into it delicately. Her eyes wander across the room, taking in the warm lighting, the ivy-covered walls, and the illusion of soft sunlight streaming through enchanted skylights.

“This room looks exquisite.” She remarks, admiring the intricate garden-themed décor. “It must be very expensive.”

Anaxa leans back slightly, sipping his tea. “The price is manageable. But they only open a handful of these rooms each day, since they’re famous for their enchanted garden settings. People book weeks in advance just to enjoy tea here.”

He sets his cup down and adds in a mock-tragic tone, “I had to endure unspeakable trials to secure this booking.”

Aglaea turns to him and raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

Catching her expression, Anaxa slumps back into his chair with a sheepish smile. “Alright, alright. It wasn’t that hard. All I had to do was say it was for Lady Goldweaver and they immediately cleared a slot.”

Aglaea narrows her eyes, a sly half-smile tugging at her lips. “Using my name for your own benefit. How shameless.”

Anaxa lifts his chin smugly. “I prefer to call it being resourceful.”

He stands, brushing crumbs from his sleeves, then notices the citrine locket lying on the floor, forgotten during their earlier tumble. With a teasing glint in his eyes, he picks it up and strides toward Aglaea.

Without permission, he gently clasps the delicate chain around her neck, his fingers lingering briefly at the nape in a deliberate, almost tender gesture.

Aglaea scowls, her fingers lightly tracing the pendant as if weighing whether to rip it off immediately. “Why would I want to wear a reminder of myself crying?”

Anaxa leans closer, his voice dropping to a warm, teasing murmur near her ear. “So you never forget that I, the great Anaxagoras, once made you cry.”

Aglaea rolls her eyes, playfully shoving him aside, but a reluctant smile still tugs at her mouth. “You’re insufferable.”

Unfazed, Anaxa pulls his phone from his pocket with a flourish. “Well, if you hate that photo so much, we can take a better one. Right now.”

Before she can protest, he slides behind her, draping his arms over her shoulders. His head settles just beside hers, warm and close.

“Say cheese!” 

The camera shutter clicks, capturing the moment—Aglaea’s reluctant smile, the faint blush colouring her cheeks, and Anaxa pressing a quick, unexpected kiss to her cheek just before the photo is taken.

They both lean in to look at the photo on Anaxa’s phone. Aglaea’s cheeks flush deeper as she cringes.

“That’s even more embarrassing.” She mutters, reaching out. “Delete it and take a proper one.”

Anaxa grins mischievously, holding the phone just out of her reach. “I don’t think so. I think it’s perfect.”

Aglaea lunges forward, trying to snatch the phone, but Anaxa effortlessly lifts it above his head, well beyond her reach. “You’ll have to try harder than that, shortie.”

“Shortie?!” Aglaea snaps, offended. She summons a golden thread from her fingers and flicks it toward the phone.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” Anaxa laughs and darts away, phone still in hand.

Aglaea breaks into a run after him, laughter bubbling up as they chase each other around the enchanted garden room like carefree children.

Just then, the door creaks open and the waitress peeks inside, tray in hand. She freezes, blinking at the unexpected scene before quietly retreating and closing the door without a word.

Leaning behind the door, she mutters to herself with a mixture of confusion and disbelief, “Who knew demigods could be so childish…”

Back in the room, Aglaea and Anaxa collapse onto the soft artificial grass, both huffing and flushed from their playful chase. Aglaea sits gracefully to the side, legs folded neatly together, while Anaxa sprawls out with his legs apart and both hands planted behind him for support. His phone lies forgotten on the floor between them.

Aglaea, still catching her breath, lets out a tired laugh. “I’ve never run this much before.”

Anaxa groans softly, rubbing his calves. “My legs are definitely going to be sore tomorrow.”

Aglaea spots the phone between them, then swiftly leans forward and grabs it before Anaxa can react. She angles it toward them with a small, triumphant smile.

“Turn this way.” She says, nudging his shoulder as she brushes back a loose strand of hair.

Anaxa lets out a dramatic groan but shifts into frame, giving a tired, lopsided peace sign with one hand while the other props him up. His hair is a little messy, cheeks flushed from exertion, and there’s a spark of amused resignation in his eyes.

Aglaea snaps the photo, capturing the moment perfectly—her sitting composed with flushed cheeks and loose strands of hair framing her face, while Anaxa slouches beside her, breathless, flashing a crooked grin and a lazy peace sign.

“This is way better.” Aglaea says, inspecting the new selfie with a satisfied nod, the corners of her lips lifting in approval.

Anaxa leans over to peek at the screen, smirking. “I still prefer the other one.” 

Aglaea shoots him a look. “Of course you do. You’re kissing me in it.”

He shrugs, unapologetically. “Exactly. That one had flair. This one’s cute, but the other? Iconic.”

Aglaea huffs and rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t delete the original. Instead, she quietly saves both.

Dragonbone Hotel — Rooftop

Darkness wraps the city in a velvet cloak, stars twinkling faintly above the city lights. Aglaea and Anaxa sit side by side at the edge, their legs dangling freely over the cityscape below, each holding their locket and admiring the photos inside. Aglaea’s locket holds the playful selfie taken after their chase, while Anaxa’s shows the one where he’s caught mid-kiss, lips gently brushing her cheek.

“That clerk was kind enough to help us change the photos for free.” Anaxa says, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

Aglaea raises an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes. “I thought you loved Dromas. Didn’t know you were planning to swap your picture too.”

Anaxa’s grin deepens, eyes locking with hers. “Well, maybe there’s something I like more than Dromas.”

Aglaea turns her gaze toward the dimly lit streets far below. Suddenly, gentle snowflakes begin to fall, drifting lazily in the cold night air.

She lifts a hand, palm facing up, watching the snowflakes settle gently on her skin.

“It’s snowing.” She breathes softly.

Anaxa chuckles quietly, following her gaze. “It’s always snowy in Aidonia, but yes... it’s snowing.”

Anaxa scoots closer to Aglaea, his hand sliding gently around her waist. She leans her head against his shoulder, a contented sigh escaping her lips as they sit in comfortable silence, eyes fixed on the shimmering city lights below. The cool night air brushes past them, softened by the warmth growing quietly between them.

Chapter Text

The train ride back to Okhema had surprisingly less bickering than their journey to Aidonia. As soon as they step out of the bustling train station, two familiar figures greet them with wide, knowing grins.

“So? How was the business trip?” Hyacine asks, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Anaxa shrugs casually. “It was fine. We even brought back some gifts.”

Castorice’s face lights up. “Did you get the snacks I asked for, Lady Aglaea?”

Aglaea smiles, reaching into her bag. “Yes, I did, Cas. Here—oh, and help me distribute the gifts we picked up for the other Chrysos heirs.”

“I will, Lady Aglaea.” Castorice says with a respectful nod.

Hyacine tilts her head, an innocent smile playing on her lips. “Did anything interesting happen?”

Anaxa exchanges a glance with Aglaea before replying, “Oh, you know… we just happened to sit next to each other on the train and stayed in the same hotel.” He narrows his eyes at them suspiciously.

Hyacine and Castorice exchange nervous glances, shifting awkwardly on their feet.

Hyacine finally breaks the silence. “I have only one thing to say.”

Aglaea raises a brow. “Oh? What is it, Hyacine?”

“Run!”

With a squeal of laughter, Hyacine grabs Castorice by the wrist and the two bolt off, sprinting away into the crowd.

Aglaea and Anaxa stare after them in silence for a moment, then turn to each other, exchanging amused glances before bursting into laughter.

Oh, if only they knew what really happened.