love is my religion. i could die for that.

The Cove is often busy with guests and those seeking refuge. It is the only thing that Aegean has ever known and he thus does not find it particularly strange; it does not rouse any suspicion.

Still, when he sees the two walking in on the border, they catch his gaze.

He has never seen them before, and he is certain that he would have noticed more his age. So he watches quietly, feeling the edge of the fever brushing against his consciousness, his amethyst eyes a little too bright, a flush rising beneath the impossibly white of his coat. When they do call out, he lifts his antlered head a little further, something passing across his features before they even out again.

Aegean has never fancied himself a diplomat or a Prince. He knows his blood is royal blue, but he has always had his mind set on other things—the stars, the dreams that his mother weaves, the hearts that have so consistently stolen his own—and he doesn’t have the time to play the part often.

But it seems strange to let these two wander without introducing himself.

It seems strange and he is interested enough that he picks himself up from where he had been curled on the ground, shaking the dirt from his otherwise pristine coat and begins to make his way toward them. The antlers have begun to grow considerably—going from mere velvet-covered stubbs to something closer to the proud, wicked curves of his mother’s—and he swings them in his direction as he walks.

When he nears them, he comes to a stop, his handsome face still wrapped in a dreamy smile, his purple eyes washing over them both. “Hello there,” his voice is lyrical and soft, almost feminine in the sweet way it wraps around his tongue. “My name is Aegean. Is there some way that I can help you both?”

i could die for you.

love is my religion. i could die for that.

Aegean is quiet as he watches them. Not because he is shy, but because he has always been one to observe first and talk second. His words are elegant but rare, the dreamy boy always content to observe and watch over engage. Still, the spotted girl is enthusiastic and bouncy and he finds that endearing, his glowing head angled in her direction as she reaches out to lip at his antlers. Obligingly, he dips his head further so that she can explore them, the bone beginning to grow palmated in some areas and sharp in others.

“I don’t know,” he says softly, his voice lyrical. “My mother’s are quite large. I imagine mine will be the same.” There’s no boasting in the words but rather a simple bluntness, an accepting of the fact that his antlers will one day stretch to be as impressive as his mother’s. He has no way of knowing the young boy’s thoughts about his antlers, but Aegean has never been one to consider them made for war.

He wasn’t a fighter, not like his mother.

Still, when he lifts his head back to look at them both, his lips are spread into a kind smile. He watches them patiently, waiting for the filly to finish speaking. When it is quiet again, he nods, his movements always just a little slow and deliberate. “This is indeed Silver Cove.” He casts his gaze around the kingdom, the only home he has ever really known, before bringing it back to the two of them.

He doesn’t know what would bring two children to his home without knowing where they are, but it piques his interest—more than it already was—and he watches them more closely. “Astarielle, Pteron,” he enunciates their names clearly, choosing her more formal name over her nickname.

“Would you like to see more of the Cove?”

i could die for you.