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Summary
It is difficult to say anything more. If he did, he’d be bearing his heart out to an all too familiar face, yet be faced with an indifference that would break him. He need not say more.
Frustratingly, Flame Reaver tilts his head like a confused dog, the mannerism so similar to his Deliverer. “Is that all your questions, crowned prince?” It asks.
And perhaps, like a fool, he had one more. He indulges in asking, the romanticism of it all echoing his lover’s love for fairy tales,
“Did we perhaps meet in my library in the next life, Flame Reaver? Is Mydei of any loop always fated to be with his Phainon?”
“No.”
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Mydei and the Chrysos Heirs visit the grave of their sole sacrifice.
(I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF I GAVE THEM A HAPPY ENDING IN THE NEXT* LIFE)