Fear.
A word so alien for Abel for a very long time. When he first came to know the fear of loss, he named it his proof of love for Aries, which she could depend on. Loving Aries was so easy, but Love itself was tough. Yet, he told himself he was tough enough.
Therefore, this fear was just one of his many demons to slay. Abel could safely say he had broken free from that weaponized cage, only for another fear to resurface unannounced and gnarly. This time, much more dreadful than those crazy-making circling anxiety.
"Your Majesty, what should we do with him?" Conan inquired, staring at Abel, who was sitting on the armchair inside the emperor's chambers.
Abel had been silent since parting with Aries after dropping her in the Rose Palace. And he had been staring at that pebble, rolling it mildly in between his thumb and index, his arm propped against the armrest.
