For full experience, readers are encouraged to read with the music.

It is now morning, and I stare back at my reflection in the vanity as I sit frozen in place. These last few days have gone much better than I ever could've imagined. Valentine and I have been spending more and more time together, slowly picking up what remnants had been left of our old lives. We'd even began sleeping in the same bed again.

Despite how normal things felt, how well things were going and how comforting the time we'd spent together had been, I still couldn't seem to shake that tugging feeling in my gut. That ever-present fear of him losing his temper again. Of him hurting people. And then there was Henry's face, forever haunting the back of my ever-sprawling thoughts. What Valentine had done to him that night...I don't think I could ever erase.

My thoughts are instantly interrupted by that enticing scent that I'd come to know so well. Through the vanity's reflection, I catch glimpse of Valentine's polished form casually leaning against the bedroom door.

His hair is once again, gelled back with the exception of his usual stubborn streaks. A crisp white evening shirt paired with smooth black slacks hang from his tall frame. My eyes linger on his neckline peeking through the few unfastened buttons adorning the length of his glowing shirt. Sparkling gems line the cuff of his sleeves, further drawing attention to the glistening purple of his eyes. That icy gaze. One that could save, just as easily as it could kill.

As his aurora casts an ever-present halo around the length of his full form, making him appear even more surreal, I whirl around in my stool to face him.

"Why so formal?" I ask nonchalantly nodding at his attire.

"We are going out" he simply states, refocusing his attention down to my loosened robe. My right sleeve has slightly fallen from my shoulder, and his mark shone bright and clear, almost sparkling under the sun's warm rays.

Once glance at the widening smirk playing on his lips, and I can already tell that whatever he is itching to tell me, chances are I'm not going to love it. Deciding not to ruin to the streak we've been on by starting a battle I would end up losing anyway, I give in.

"Where to?" I sigh, trying my best to conceal the bursting curiosity and confusion in my voice.

"The Square" he states plainly.

I let out a long, defeated grunt thinking back to his long list of publicity stunts and how he'd always drag me to them. The fleeting thought that he'd somehow changed over the past few years since my escape quickly scurries its way out of my mind.

The square was where the bulk of Valentine's townspeople resided. It was where he made his frequent addresses to the public and built relationships. Where his politics sang throughout the realm as he bartered for the approval of each and every court-member to ensure he retained favor. Though, truth be told, this was nothing more than a mere formality. Valentine's mere might and power alone was threat enough to any souls bold enough to dare consider any form of rebellion or uprising. Plus, he was a fair and just enough ruler, where his people were calm and content. Whether it be out of fear or respect didn't matter now, and probably never would.

"And I'm guessing there's no use in arguing right? This is more of a command?" I inquire half sarcastically. Though I am deeply annoyed, I will myself to remain calm and centered... both for his sake and mine.

"By all means, if you'd rather we stay here and argue- " he mutters sluggishly easing himself out of his lounging position against the doorframe. Suddenly, quicker than the blink of an eye, he is centimeters away cornering me against the dresser.

"You know I'm good for it..." he breathes down my neck.

He is so close, I can feel the power and heat radiating off of him, like an ember set ablaze on a hot summer day. I shiver at the chills running along my spine and curse my core for its betrayal. Finally, burying his nose in my hair, he pauses briefly before taking in a long deep inhale and pulling back. Running his violet gaze down the length of my robe, he maintains his distance as he grips me by the shoulders. His expression is unreadable as he brings his regard back up to mine.

'I will not repeat myself. Get. Dressed'.

His grasp on me tightens gently as he plants a swift kiss on my forehead before releasing me and taking his leave. "Half an hour." is all he says before closing the chamber door.

40 Minutes Later:

Once again, lost in thought. I don't know how to feel. To think just a few days ago, I had been waking up back in the mortal realm. Now here I sit, my emotions a wreck as I try to walk the dangerously blurred line between hope and fear.

I shake it off as my mind returns to its previous preoccupation.

I face a dilemma. We were supposed to be on the town today, and I had no idea what to wear, nor what I was doing.

How exactly does one prepare to go back into her ex-lover's town? A town which she so abruptly abandoned a year ago? How do I explain my reappearance? What if everything has changed and I no longer retain the favors I once held? What had he been telling them?

"No one will bother you, you needn't worry" comes his deep voice from behind me as my thoughts continue to so my head in. Suppressing my instinctual startled reaction, I peer at him through the vanity's reflection.

He is firmly planted in the middle of the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. Refusing to let my attention be pulled to the faint runes adorning his neck, I settle for studying the gems adorning the length of his dress shirt instead. The Lord of the Sky... Always making his appearance silent and unannounced.

Finally, after a while of avoiding his silent inquisition, I speak up allowing my thoughts to come clean. "I don't know how I am to face them again...after all this time" I declare, staring down into my lap.

"You owe no one nothing" he assures tightly.

"You are queen of the sky, and you answer to no one... but your lord" he adds for satisfaction; and I let him.

Though what he says may ring true...by his standards, I still can't seem to shake the feeling of guilt and paranoia away. I let out a long huff as I steer my attention back to my reflection.

I feel the sudden rush of his presence right beside me as he caresses the side of my face. Slowly and gently, he runs his knuckles along the length of my face, trailing a slow, teasing path down along the length of my neck and over my collarbone before reaching my shoulder. The contact makes me close my eyes as my core begins to burn with a forbidden longing. He knows what he is doing...and he knows it is working.

Continuing to caress my exposed skin, he runs his knuckles down the whole of my arm and finally, takes my hand in his. Slowly, Valentine tugs me up, prompting me to stand.

When I do, he takes a long moment to study my face. I can feel the warmth of his icy gaze running tiny marathons across my features. Interlocking our fingers, he brings my arm up to plant a kiss on the back of my hand; all the while keeping his frosty regard fastened to mine. It isn't an aggressive stare, but one of invitation and comfort. Gentle and calm. He pulls me into him and buries his head into the crook of my neck.

'I love you Papillon. Always and forever.' he voices in the far breaches of my mind. The echo is tender and sweet, like a kiss on the cheek, and sighing against him is all I can do to stop myself from tangling my fingers in his snowy locks.

I take in his lavender scent as he holds onto me for a long, sweet moment. In his arms like this, I feel calm... safe.

After what feels like a moment too short, Valentine pulls back and brings our intertwined fingers up to his chest. His orbs gradually begin to shift colors; though this time not in fury- but in concentration. They alternate between a sky purple and pale blue as tiny sparks make their way up his arms. They dance along his sleeves and continue treading until they reach our still entwined hands.

I watch in wonder and curiosity as the static shimmies under the sun's glow, dancing its way from his skin to mine. His currents now spread up along my arms and fizz all around my body, racing towards my core. Though they bestow a tingling sensation all throughout my nervous system, the bolts do not hurt at all.

A few seconds later, the sparks fuse together concealing me in their entirety, save for my head. As the tingling intensifies, I fight the instinct to pull away. After all, it hadn't been too long since he'd gifted me with his little... brand. One couldn't help but at least be weary...

At this, he snorts teasingly before retorting, "Relax. You know I would never hurt you... unwarranted." This in turn makes me snort as well.

"Unwarranted" I mimic raising a brow.

He says nothing and continues to focus on his sparks. Finally, they slowly begin to retreat, leaving a beautiful, satin-mesh fabric in their wake. My nightgown has been replaced by the soft material of a long dress that clings tightly onto my petite figure.

I stare down in awe at the teal-colored hem of the ombre material which morphs into a royal purple shade, halfway up the robe. I observe the shiny dust embedded into the detailed fabric, making it appear as though I were glowing. As though I were... an immortal.

I glance back at Valentine impressed, but I am surprised to find that his pupils have assumed a darker version of their default shade. A million unspoken word hover in the air between us as he regards me with that hooded expression of his.

A shawl then instantly appears over my shoulders, wrapping itself around my body. The contempt leaves his eyes, in what appears to be relief, once the matching fabric has fully flown down to conceal my tiny curves.

He really hasn't changed I muse inward, stifling a laugh.

Hearing my remark, he smirks and spins me around, like one would a dance partner, to face the mirror. I look at the woman staring back at me in the shiny glass surface. Looking exactly like she did several years ago, when she used to pretend things were okay. A girl in love.

Sighing, I motion to turn back around when I feel him gently settling a small, silver circlet atop my head. Its encrusted amethyst not failing to catch every single light in its dazzling reflection.

My old crown.

"Fit for a queen" he asserts before stepping up to my side to study our matching figures in the reflection. 'My queen' he adds for emphasis.

He laces his fingers through mine once more as we study ourselves for a little while longer. His once white shirt transfigures into a sleek crimson hue, properly matching the shades of my gown and shawl.

Looking up, I notice he now also dons his crown.

No matter how much one tried to get used to its haunting, glacial hedges, his crown always screamed danger and power each and every time. With its embedded tear-shaped diamonds-the color of a deathly storm, the sheer divinity emanating from the crystal diadem was warning enough. In it, he was every bit as beautiful as he was cold and menacing. Every bit the God of thunder. Every bit the Ruler of skies.

After what is beginning to feel like an eternity, he finally pierces the silence:

"Shall we?" he coos releasing my hand and extending his elbow to me. Though he means to be light and supportive, the sight of the massive crown resting atop his white hair makes it ring more like a command.

Suppressing another chuckle, I allow my arm to lace through his. "I suppose we shall" I coo back at him. With a wave of his other hand over the mirror, the glass moltenizes, creating a shimmering portal.

Freezing, I step back. I should've known. I absolutely hated teleporting. How stupid of me to think we'd actually be humble for once and take the mobil, I wonder in disappointment.

"A lord shouldn't-" he starts but I cut him off saving him the effort of his breath, already knowing the second half of the sentence. "Yes, I know. Mr. high and mighty never takes the train, you can spare me the lecture" I huff a bit over slightly annoyed.

A sharp, sudden pain on my rear causes me to pull away and glare daggers at him.

'Behave Yourself' he warns.

I scoff in response whilst rubbing the surely reddening area under my gown. He tends his elbow to me again and after a while of fierce, silent staring contests, I give in and allow him to string our arms back together. With his other hand, he gestures towards the glass, a smile replacing the smug regard on his face.

"After you, your highness."