"I have been nothing but useless to you, Princess," he whispered. Asterias had promised her that he would protect her, and yet again, he had failed. He had sworn to get her the flower of glory, and yet, he had been inept. He had failed once more. She had been willing to risk her life for him and he had nothing for her.
Asterias had never felt so useless in his life. Only when seeing Ophelia wilt in front of him, massacred in the image of the perfect mother, he finally understood how Magnus felt. He could empathize with his father: the creeping desperation to find an answer.
But, he would not be like his father. Asterias would not repeat the sins of his father. He was better than him. He would be better than Magnus.
"Don't go," Lumielle begged, her words scratchy at the back of her throat. She felt desperation cloy inside of her throat. It was disgusting—she hated how she was relying on him. The way her body refused to leave his own.
