Private The Crown Between Us

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Office of the Queen
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

"Interim High Chancellor Aurelian Veruna here to see Queen Abrantes!"

The words cracked down the marble corridor like a thunderclap, half outrage, half theater. The guards at the door startled, exchanging a look that suggested they'd sooner face a firing squad than the young man currently glowering at them. Aurelian Veruna stood framed by the vaulted archway, sunlight gilding the sharp line of his jaw and the restless gleam in his eyes. Just two weeks ago, he'd been King. Now, he stood outside his own office, waiting for permission to enter. The sheer absurdity of it burned through his composure.

"Cordé!" he barked, exasperation biting through the polished charm that usually coated his voice. "If one more bureaucratic fool tells me I need an appointment to access my own desk, I'll start signing decrees from the corridor!" He didn't wait for the flustered aide's reply. Aurelian shoved through the great doors as they swung wide, his stride cutting across the chamber like a blade through silk. The air smelled faintly of Naboo perfume and newly polished authority.

"Sibylla Ynez Abrantes!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. He approached the desk where the newly crowned Queen sat, serene, composed, and infuriatingly calm. He planted his hands on the edge of her desk, leaning in, eyes flashing with a blend of frustration and something dangerously close to fondness.

"I have an entire Republic to keep from imploding," he said, each word clipped, taut with barely leashed energy. "An Assembly demands answers. The Security Council has been rearranged twice over. There are a thousand fires to put out."

His tone sharpened, incredulous. "And I find out you were in Varl? At a fashion show? In the middle of Black Sun space?"

He stared at her, disbelief mixing with a worry he would never admit aloud.

"Tell me, Your Majesty," Aurelian said, his voice softening into a razor-edged drawl, "are you dense, or merely bored of being alive?"

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Office of the Queen
Aurelian Veruna


It was almost poetic, really…the irony of it all.

Not two weeks ago, this same man had sat behind the very desk she now occupied, issuing orders with that same imperious tone and brooding gravitas. And now here he was, storming furiously into her office to lecture her over the very sort of thing she had once tried to discuss with him, only for him to wave her off with that maddening mischief of his, distracting her with Padme, and the diplomatic equivalent of a shrug.

Truly, the galaxy had a wicked sense of humor.

Sibylla's delicate brows rose the moment he burst through the doors, his voice booming her full name like some sort of divine accusation.

Ynez? How in the Shiraya's name did he even know her middle name? Had he gone rifling through official records between crises? Or did Tona and Corde start gossiping in Assembly briefings now?

Not that it mattered.

What did matter was the sight of Aurelian Veruna, Interim High Chancellor, former King, and eternal storm cloud of dramatics, standing before her with the force of a supernova. She hadn't seen this level of fury from him since before the Assembly's attack, back in his office after Wielu. Even during the broadcast of the Empire's attack, he kept his composure. That alone told her how deeply this one cut.

He's upset, she realized, watching the flare amber ignite his eyes and the tension ripple in his shoulders. Upset and worried.

Still, the irony and hypocrisy of it all knew no bounds.

Behind him, poor Corde lingered in the doorway, flustered beyond words. And just beyond, Tona looked equally mortified, the two aides whispering before Sibylla gave a small, reassuring nod that sent them retreating down the hall like guilty schoolchildren. The chamber doors clicked softly shut, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet splendor of the Queen's office.

Calmly, almost pointedly so, Sibylla set down the stylus she had been using to review the Princess of Theed's latest budget proposals. And while her heart shaped face maintained a serene expression her mind was a whirlpool of disbelief and rising vexation.

Oh she really shouldn’t do it, prudence told her to hold her tongue. To try and calm him. That an argument wasn’t worth it. But the spark of that rebellious nature Aurelian had cultivated now had its embers stoked and his audacity was the fuel to the fire.

"Well," she said at last in a cool and unhurried tone, "I'm doing rather well. Having a wonderful day, in fact."

The phrasing was deliberate, of course, Sibylla was using the exact same words he had once thrown at her in the royal stables when she'd dared question his decision to attend a certain Hapan wedding with Bastila Sal-Soren .

Full lips curved just slightly.

"And you, Aurelian?"

It was obvious that would bait him and part of her wanted to, exactly for the same reason she’d been upset when she heard he’d attended that wedding with Bastila, her handmaiden, and recklessly risked his life when he had an active assassination bounty on his head.

Thinking about it once again irked her.

So it was with a seemingly calm expression that she let her hazel eyes travel from the tousled crown of his hair down to the way his hands pressed against her desk, a stance likely meant to intimidate, though to her it merely looked like a man about to realize the floor had shifted under him.

"Tell me," she added lightly, returning her attention to trace the angles of his face and meeting his fiery stare, a spark of ironic humor flashing through her composure, "isn't it remarkable how much louder one's moral outrage becomes when it's someone else doing the exact same thing?"

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Office of the Queen
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian's jaw clenched. Her words, his own twisted back at him, hit their mark. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. Her calm, the mocking echo of his own quip, was a mirror to his own arrogance. He hated it.

His eyes flashed with fury. "Oh, Shiraya," he hissed, a disbelieving laugh catching in his throat. "You truly are dense."

He stood, running a hand through his hair, an attempt to control his temper that only seemed to fuel it. He turned away for a breath, exhaling hard. Then he spun back, the force of his movement rattling the pens on her desk.

"There's a galaxy of difference," he snapped, his voice climbing despite his efforts. "One was a King, attending a royal Hapan wedding. I was officially invited. There were security guarantees, diplomatic shields, even one of your own handmaidens with me as guard." His hands sliced through the air, punctuating his words.

"You," he continued, stabbing a finger toward her desk, "are a Queen. A Queen who sits on that throne because the Chancellor was kidnapped by the very organization hosting that damned fashion show!"

The last two words boomed, echoing off the walls like a gunshot.

He stopped himself from slamming his palm on her desk, instead gripping the edge, knuckles white. He forced his voice back down. "Shiraya," he breathed, low and dangerous, "do you have any idea what it would do to Naboo, what it would do to me, if they took you too?"

His anger was a storm barely held in check. He looked at her then, truly looked, and the rage softened into something heavier. Something close to fear.

But he didn't say it. He never did.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, turning his head away. "You can't do stupid shit like this," he muttered. "You can't."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

N A B O O
Queen’s Office
Aurelian Veruna

Dense.

The word struck harder than it should have.

Both brows rose, the faintest twitch of disbelief ghosting over her features before Sibylla's tongue swept slowly over her teeth, pressing her lips together to keep from saying something she might regret. But the insult, paired with the galling hypocrisy of him, of all people, lecturing her about recklessness, was the final thread snapping taut.

She inhaled once. Deeply.

When Sibylla finally rose from her seat, it was with a slow and deliberate precision, like a storm building beneath still skies. Her chin lifted, her hands braced against the carved surface for a heartbeat before she stepped out from behind it. The sharp echo of her heels against marble built with each step in a measured rhythm of defiance and barely bridled emotion.

If there was anyone in the galaxy who could truly test the edges of her composure, it was the man now standing before her, fury simmering behind those amber eyes that pulled at her like a satellite caught in the gravity of his sun.

But Shiraya help her, she saw it, the flicker beneath the anger, the tell she'd come to recognize too well. Concern and the unspoken edge of something else buried beneath all that fire.

And that, more than his words, was what made her blood burn.

Because he couldn't see how his carelessness, his recklessness, hurt her too.

"I can't do stupid shit like this?" she began, her voice deceptively calm as it sliced through the tense air.

"A galaxy of difference, you say?"

Each word grew sharper as she advanced, her fury tempered by the poise of a queen who refused to tremble. The glint of her crown reflected against the light of the overhead windows as she neared.

"Oh, you're right, Aurelian, there is a galaxy of difference." The laugh that escaped her was a quiet, humorless chuckle of disbelief.

"I don't have a six-hundred-thousand credit assassination bounty on my head like you do."

Her tone rose, and the gold flecks in her hazel eyes sparkled like embers, reflecting the storm within her that churned with worry, fear, and all that had been building up between.

"You really want to talk about diplomatic assurances? The last Hapan wedding in that same damned palace ended with the bride and groom murdered before they could even take their vows! If they could kill their own Prince, how easily do you think they could have done the same to you?"

Her voice trembled on the edge between anger and frustration.

"You want to talk about stupid? About dense?" she pressed on, stopping just short of him, breath shaking. "Then let's talk about the man who walked into a syndicate wedding surrounded by half the galaxy's assassins, knowing full well any one of them could make a fortune by putting a blaster to his head!"

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Danger Zone
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian closed the space between them in two strides. The air crackled.

"You think I don't know that?" he bit out, his voice low but blazing. "You think I didn't scope out every escape route in that venue before I even set foot inside?"

He leaned closer. She could see the faint tremor of fury through him, the quick pulse at his throat.

"I wasn't there for fun, Sibylla. I went because every influential noble from here to Corellia was present. Naboo needed to be seen, to remind the galaxy we're still standing. That we are a force that will not cower." His hand slammed flat on the desk beside her, the sound sharp, final. "It was a damned calculated risk."

He straightened, his eyes burning. "What you did wasn't. You walked into Varl, a den of slavers and smugglers, with no security, no clearance, and without telling me!" His tone rose, anger and fear bleeding together until they were indistinguishable. "You could have vanished, Sibylla! Another cut transmission, another body found, another name in a eulogy I can't bear to give!"

He stepped closer again, his breath uneven, his voice rough. "You don't get it," he said, quieter now, almost hoarse. "You're not replaceable. You can't just disappear and expect the galaxy to keep turning."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

N A B O O
Queen's Office | Danger zone
Aurelian Veruna

"Really? A calculated risk?"

The words tore out of her before she could stop them, each syllable sharp and trembling. Her hand shot up, gesturing with every word, fury breaking through the practiced calm of her crown and station.

"On a bounty that you scoff at! That you joke about, saying you should be worth double?!"

The flush of anger crept up her throat, painting her cheeks as her breath came quicker, her chest rising and falling with every breath she tried to steady and failed. He had the nerve to call it calculated, the gall to act as if she was the reckless one, when he had been dancing on the edge of death for months.

Had she been less infuriated, she might have admitted some of his points made sense. But the fact that he still couldn't see the root of it, the pain beneath her fury, the fear that had haunted her every time his name flashed across a crisis report, set her blood ablaze.

"Oh, don't you dare," she hissed, the incredulous scoff that followed curling off her lips like a whip crack. "Don't you even try to pin this on me, as if I didn't go through proper channels. I had Corde relay everything to Tona, who was supposed to give it to you!"

Her voice climbed an octave as her hands flew in agitated emphasis.

"I took every precaution I could. I had Jedi Knight Aiden Porte as my escort, I was invited personally by Mauve Du Vain, and I damn well went there to use my skills to find information on Kalantha's whereabouts!"

The pitch of her voice wavered with the emotional strain cracking through.

"I was trying to do my job, Aurelian! To be the bridge! What else am I good for if not finding ways to hold this damned galaxy together while it tears itself apart?"

She spun on her heel with a strangled, frustrated sound, the dark length of her chestnut hair swirling about her shoulders as her fingers pressed to her temple, only to turn back with fire flashing in her hazel eyes.

"And don't you give me that dank farrik about not telling you when you didn't even tell me!"

Her shoulders rose and fell with every quickened breath, her pulse just as wild as she jabbed a finger against his chest.

"You didn't tell me, Aurelian. After everything that happened on Wielu. After you almost died!" Her voice cracked on the word. "So what? Are you the only one allowed to make 'calculated risks'? The only one allowed to be reckless with your life while I'm left waiting for the next transmission saying you've lost your damned head to some assassin?!"

The space between them seemed to ignite, the tension electric, her words trembling not just with anger but with the raw, aching fear that lived beneath it.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: BIG TIME DANGER ZONE
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian's laugh was a sudden, furious bark, shattering the quiet. "Yes a bloody calculated risk!" he boomed, his voice echoing in the vast, marble hall. "Forget the bounty, forget the danger! If we cower every time a blaster is aimed at us, what does that make us? Cowards?"

He stepped closer, his anger a palpable heat that seemed to thin the air. "If Mauve and her Sith-trained sycophants think they've intimidated us into silence, they've won. Instead, we showed our faces. We got results." He slapped his chest, the sound a sharp drumbeat. "Let every bounty hunter in the galaxy stare at the pathetic price they've put on my head and dream. They'll never collect. None of them can touch me."

The fire in his eyes was a challenge, reckless and electrifying.

Then came the sharp, disbelieving scoff. "You told Cordé to tell Tona?" His voice climbed again, incredulity laced with his anger. "What in the nine hells of Shiraya is that supposed to mean? What about telling me? I wouldn't have chained you to a throne, Sibylla. I would have sent someone competent, not whoever the f*ck Aiden Porte is."

He took a step back, running a hand through his hair. Then he turned, his posture tight, dangerous. "Precautions? Don't insult me. You accepted an invitation from Mauve Du Vain. That tells me everything. You met with a woman who peddles secrets like fine silks, who smiles while she deals in souls, and you call that strategy?"

He stalked nearer, his anger now a molten tide. "Oh, please. Don't stand there and tell me you were just doing your job. How does that even sound? You, who they knew would be coming, walking into a den of thieves and murderers, expecting them to willingly reveal the location of the galaxy's most valuable hostage?" He leaned in, their faces mere inches apart, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "Really? What did you think you could accomplish that the entire might of the High Republic couldn't?"

The space between them crackled, the tension so thick it felt alive. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his hands clenching, as if unsure whether to throw them up in exasperation or reach for her.

He exhaled sharply, his jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on hers. "You want to know why I didn't tell you?" he demanded, his voice rough, low. "Because it would have led us exactly here. You would have argued until dawn, worn me down with talk of duty, risk, and responsibility. All while every single one of my advisors would have urged me to go."

Aurelian's voice softened, but the fury still smoldered beneath the surface, raw and exposed. "And you know what? I was right. Because this," he gestured sharply between them, "is what happens when I try to protect you, and you try to outmaneuver me. You drive me to the edge, Sibylla. You drive me absolutely mad!"

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Mega Big Danger zone!
Aurelian Veruna

The sound of his laugh cut through her like a vibroblade.

Sibylla’s breath caught, then burned.

She lifted her chin, fury flashing through her as she stood so close he could feel the heat of her breath when she spoke. Anger and disbelief tangled in her chest, tightening until it hurt to breathe.

"Don't you dare belittle me with that tone," she snapped, the words sharp and trembling, as if she hadn’t done the same to show her face and presence despite her assassination attempt. As if she wouldn’t have understood had he merely talked to her.

"As if I hadn't done the same after my own assassination attempt. As if I didn’t understand the reasons to show a strong united front!”

Shiraya’s sake how could he be so infuriating!?

“And do not speak to me about Aiden Porte as if you know a thing about him. He was there to protect me, to make sure I came back in one piece!"

The force of her words rippled through the room, her jaw tightening as she drew a sharp breath before speaking again in exasperation.

"Oh, but of course," she laughed bitterly, the sound soft yet sharp with disbelief. She took a step back, gesturing toward him in a fierce sweep of her hand. "I forgot, you decide what's reckless and what's righteous, don't you? When you gamble your life, it's noble. When I do it, it's foolish."

But it was his last accusation that truly shattered her.

"So… you didn't tell me," she uttered out in a hoarse whisper as her voice trembled with restrained fury. "Because you didn't trust me not to argue? Because you thought you already knew better, knew what I'd say, how I'd react?"

Sibylla's voice broke as emotion surged, her fingers pressing against her brow before she turned back to him in one sharp, furious motion.

"You were my judge and jury before you even dared to bring it to me! As if I can't listen to reason?! As if I can't admit when I'm wrong and you're right?"

By now her chest was rising and falling sharply, each breath dragged through a throat tight with rage and something far more dangerous. He had thrown truths at her, she would grant him that. She understood why he had gone to the wedding, understood the necessity of it. But the irony cut deep, because with every word they traded, rationality slipped further away, shattering completely the moment he admitted he had kept it from her on purpose. Her hazel eyes locked on his, glassy and burning all at once.

"You think this is what happens when you protect me?" she whispered, her tone trembling as she began to pace. "No, Aurelian. This is what happens when you shut me out. When you make choices that tear me apart and expect me to smile and stand behind you like some dutiful shadow."

Sibylla's breath hitched as she stopped short, then swung back toward him. Her voice came low and hoarse, heavy with emotion, as she jutted her finger at him sharply.

"No. You don't get to stand there and say I drive you mad for caring whether you live or die - - for caring about you."

Her nostrils flared, fury and anguish warring in her expression as she shot back, "Because at least I'll admit it. I care about you, Aurelian. I worry about you. You. Not the King. Not the Interim High Chancellor. Not the blasted Prince of Parrlay, you. I fear for your life because I can't stand the thought of losing you. And I won't hide it behind some blasted maddening notion of what's best for Naboo or the Republic or your damn, self-righteous advisors."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: I'm the best there ever was
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian stared at her, his pulse pounding. Her words hung heavy in the air, stifling him. For a long moment, he just breathed, jaw locked, his face a mix of fury and disbelief.

Then his composure cracked.

"Blast it, Sibylla!" His voice cracked sharp against the marble. "You think I don't know what it means to care? That I'm made of stone?"

He took a step closer, anger flaring again. "You think I didn't feel that same fear, clawing at me when I hear you vanished into Black Sun space with only Aiden Porte and your House to protect you?"

His tone sharpened, a raw pleading beneath the anger. "You're right. I didn't tell you. I should have. But don't mistake it for a lack of trust."

"We're both right and wrong here. I should've trusted you, and you should've trusted me. But you didn't."

"You ran off to play diplomat at a fashion show while half the underworld hunts us, and you expect me not to lose my mind?" His laugh was low and rough. "You call that strategy? I call it a bloody gamble, and not even a clever one."

He took another step forward, closing the distance. His voice was quieter now, but no less fierce. "I went because I had to. The Republic needed to see us unshaken, needed to see me after Wielu." He clenched his jaw. "You? You walked straight into a trap with a target on your back."

His words faltered, softer now, though his chest still rose and fell with agitation. "And yes, Sibylla, it's no secret I care about you." His voice dropped, roughened by the truth. "That's what makes this so infuriating. You're too damn smart for this kind of recklessness, and you did it anyway."

For a heartbeat, silence filled the space between them. It was charged, breathless. His expression twisted, torn between admiration and frustration.

"You're brilliant," he said finally, his voice tight. "Smarter than me by a long stretch. That's what makes this worse. You know what's at stake, and you still can't stop risking yourself just to prove a point."

He exhaled, shaking his head, a crooked, exhausted smile ghosting over his lips. "The difference is, mine was a calculated risk that would pay off for the Republic ten fold. Your risk..."

He straightened, meeting her eyes with steady, burning resolve. "You want honesty? Fine. I care about you, yes, but more than that, I worry for you. Every time you leave that throne, I have to trust the galaxy not to tear you apart. If that makes me overbearing, then so be it."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Curse you for being right!
Aurelian Veruna

When Sibylla saw the raw strain in Aurelian's expression as he cursed, heard the plea in his tone, the tremor in it when he said her name, it cut deeper than any accusation. The anger still burned hot under her skin, but something in her shifted.

He wasn't just angry. He was worried.

For a long moment, Sibylla could only stand there, chest still rising and falling too fast, her pulse loud in her ears. She swallowed hard, forcing her to steady her breathing, the soft rise and fall of her chest slowing as she stood there, searching his face and seeing the truth behind the fire. They weren't truly fighting about politics, or even risk. They were fighting because they hadn't spoken, hadn't trusted, hadn't let each other in.

She drew in a deep breath and brought her hands behind her back to rest them there, to keep her hands in place and not be tempted to make wild gestures again. To force her to listen. Truly listen.

By the time he admitted what she had long suspected, that he worried for her every time she left the protection of the throne, the weight of it settled between them.

She closed her eyes. One breath. Then another. When she finally opened them again, the storm in her gaze had softened, though its depth remained. She rubbed her forehead with trembling fingers before looking back at him, her voice quieter now but full of the same emotion that had driven every word before.

"You are right," she said, the words careful, almost fragile. "Going to the Hapan wedding was necessary. You needed to be seen, to remind the galaxy Naboo would not bow. I see that now."

Another second and her throat worked as she swallowed. "And yes...you should have trusted me", she echoed, taking a small step toward Aurelian, her skirts swaying faintly with the movement as she looked up at him.

"Because what am I even here for, Aurelian, if not to stand beside you? If you can't come to me, can't trust me to share the burden of what you carry, then what use am I?"

She couldn't help the way her voice wavered, still reining in her composure.

"And yes, you're right again. I was reckless. I knew it might be a trap, and I went anyway. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I should have spoken to you first. Should have trusted you in turn." A small exhale escaped her, the words softening. "For that, I apologize. It won't happen again."

For a moment, silence. Then she gestured faintly between them, her tone gentler now but still weighted with feeling.

"If this, whatever this is between us, is going to work, then we have to be honest with the important things. I need the truth from you. Always. You call me brilliant, and perhaps you're right, but what I truly am is strong. I can handle the truth, Aurelian. What I can't bear is silence."

Those hazel eyes flicked down to his hands, still curled into fists at his sides. She hesitated, then reached out, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrists. Her touch was light, coaxing. Slowly, she slid her hands down to his, urging him to loosen his grip, to hold hers instead.

"I told you before," she said softly, "I will support you. I will stand behind your decisions. But promise me you'll keep me involved. Let me shoulder some of it."

Her lids rose and those hazel eyes met the rich amber of his gaze.

"And if that means you're overbearing at times, fine. I know it's because you worry. Because you care. And I'm grateful for that."

A small, breathless laugh slipped through, breaking the tension just enough.

"So long as I don't end up actually chained to the throne, I think I can live with it."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: You are never living this down
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Normally she would never live this down, admitting he was right. She still might not avoid it, but he recognized the gravity in this moment.

Aurelian's breath hitched, a quiet, unsteady exhale escaping him. The fight drained out of him all at once, not in surrender, but in the heavy silence that followed her words. He remained still as she spoke, his pulse still thrumming from their argument, his chest rising and falling beneath his jacket. But when she reached for his wrists, gently coaxing his fists open, the last vestiges of his anger fractured and fell away.

Her touch undid him, completely.

His shoulders eased, the tightness releasing them by degrees. His hands, once clenched, softened in hers, warm and trembling slightly as if unsure what to do with the gentleness. He stared down at their joined hands, her fingers delicate but firm, her palms grounding him more than she could ever know.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and roughened, all the sharp edges gone. "I'm sorry," the words slipped out, fragile and reluctant, yet true. "You're not the only one at fault." He lifted his gaze to hers, his amber eyes steady but clouded with remorse. "I'm used to making decisions alone. Charging ahead, thinking if I move fast enough, I can fix everything before anyone gets hurt." He let out a small, rueful breath, his jaw tightening. "But that's not fair. Not to you. I should have told you, kept you in the loop. I can't ask for your trust if I don't give you mine in return."

For a moment, he simply looked at her, truly looked. The anger was gone, replaced by something quieter, something far more dangerous: reverence. "I'll do better," he murmured, his thumb brushing faintly over her knuckles as if to seal the promise. "You deserve that."

Then, almost reluctantly, the corner of his mouth twitched, the ghost of a grin threatening to break through the weight of the moment. "And I should probably buy Cordé something nice," he added under his breath, the humor faint but real. "Considering I might have... yelled. Loudly." He glanced aside, sheepish for the first time all evening, before muttering, "I think she frightens me more than the Assembly."

A soft laugh escaped him, quiet and tired, but genuine. "She's not the only one, though," he said, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. "You terrify me too. Not because you have all the power of a Queen now, though that's part of it, but because you can do this." His fingers tightened gently around hers. "You can take me apart like it's nothing."

His tone softened to a murmur. "And I let you."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: The Aurelian Whisperer
Aurelian Veruna

It was strange how quickly anger could give way to quiet, how the sound of his apology could strike harder than any of the words that came before it.

Her fingers stilled where they rested over his, feeling the tremor in his hands. The warmth there, his warmth, was grounding, but feeling the faint tremble ached in a way she hadn't expected. She had seen him furious, sharp, commanding. But this? This was stripped-down honesty that showed her just how affected he was. Something that he'd normally hide behind a courtly smile full of silk and hidden blades.

When he said I'm sorry, she drew in a slow breath, her throat tightening, knowing well what it meant to say that. He never apologized lightly. Inky black lashes lowered as her head bowed slightly, not in submission, but in understanding.

"You're not the only one who moves too fast," she murmured with a faint exhale, "I've done the same, rushing ahead, trying to fix what I can before it slips through my fingers. I suppose we're both guilty of thinking we can hold back the tide alone."

Soft lips curved faintly then, not quite a smile, more a tremor of something caught between relief and disbelief.

"But… apology accepted," she added quietly, giving his hands a gentle squeeze of affirmation.

When Sibylla finally met his eyes again, she saw the change there. The anger had burned away, leaving something deeper in the burnished amber that made her pulse skip, a quiet intensity that felt far more dangerous than fury.

It was a good thing he brought up Cordé, because it gave her an excuse to breathe again. A soft, incredulous laugh escaped her.

"Oh, you were more than a little loud," she said, shaking her head in disbelief, one brow arching high. "Sign decrees from the corridor? Really?"

Amusement flickered behind her hazel eyes, a glimmer of warmth breaking through the tension, but it softened almost immediately at when he admitted why she terrified him.

"You make that sound as if I'm some kind of dangerous creature," she murmured, her tone threaded with quiet humor. Tilting her head in a wry twist of her lips, she added, "Perhaps I should start wearing a warning label."

Still, her fingers tightened gently around his, her thumbs grazing over his knuckles as her quiet tone fading into something softer.

"Still… I'll take the compliment," she said after a pause, her voice low. "Though I think the truth is you let me, because you already know I'd never truly break you."

It was then that her expression softened as her gaze traced over the sharp lines of his face, the tousled hair his hands had raked through too many times during their argument, and the lingering heat in those amber eyes.

Before Sibylla could stop herself, she released one of his hands and lifted it to his hair, gently finger combing the dark curls away from his face. The strands clung faintly to her fingers like soft inky ribbons, and she felt her pulse stutter again as she smoothed them into place.

"And maybe we're even," she murmured, her voice quiet but sincere. "Because I seem to let you do the same."

But then the corner of her mouth lifted into a wry smile of mildly mortified irony.

"After all," she said, a spark of dry amusement lighting her eyes. "you’ve managed to make me raise my voice at you, which I'm sure will become yet another scandalous entry for the Swan. I'll have to blame you for the blemish upon my reputation.”

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Professionally Enamored
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian's chest eased. Apology accepted. The words landed like a release valve, all the fight and noise finally draining from him. His breath escaped in a quiet huff, something between relief and a laugh, head dipping as a faint, crooked smile ghosted across his lips.

"Sign decrees from the corridor," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Shiraya, I really did, didn't I?" His brows furrowed in feigned regret, then softened. "Cordé didn't deserve that. I wasn't exactly diplomatic." Her laugh stirred something deep inside him; it was warm, familiar, and grounding. He hadn't realized how much he'd yearned for it until now. But when she teased about him being dangerous, his smile faltered. It wasn't disagreement that caused it, but the simple truth.

"It was a compliment," he said quietly, the words escaping before he could stop them. "You are dangerous to me." His gaze lingered on her face, watching her expression shift between humor and warmth. "Because I do let you. Apart from Tona, you might be the only one in the galaxy I truly trust to see everything."

Then her graceful, hesitant hand rose and brushed through his hair. The simple touch completely unraveled him. His breath caught. The tension in his jaw dissolved, his lashes lowered. A faint sound, a mix of sigh and laugh, escaped him as her fingers threaded through the dark curls he'd raked into disarray.

"Careful," he murmured, the corner of his mouth curving slightly as he looked at her through lowered lashes. "You keep doing that, and I'll start believing you're not angry with me anymore."

He tilted his head toward her, a teasing glint sparking behind the lingering tenderness in his gaze. "And as for blemishes," he murmured, stepping closer, "I don't see one at all. The great Sibylla Abrantes, raising her voice at me? That's monumental. You gave Aurelian Veruna a taste of his own medicine." A small, wicked grin pulled at his lips. "Most wouldn't dare."

For a long, breathless moment, he held her gaze. The humor faded into something softer, heavier, as his thumb traced idle circles against the back of her hand. The window light caught the edge of his smile, gold flickering against gold. "One of a kind," he said, the words almost reverent. Then, quieter still, his voice dropped to a murmur, a mix of confession and temptation. "And thank the stars, I have you to put me in my place."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Unprofessionally professional
Aurelian Veruna

"No, not at all. You were being unprofessionally diplomatic, though I suppose I can't fault the results." Sibylla chuckled out, only to give a roll of her eyes at his remark that he might believe she was no longer angry at him. She wasn't, but she was still riding the coattails of the adrenaline rush of their argument. At least that was what she was telling herself as his subsequent words lingered in the air, far too intimate, far too earnest to deflect as she typically might have done.

"That's something I'm still curious about: Tona," Sibylla managed at last, the name escaping in a quiet chuckle, "When you have the time...I should like to know how you two met. It must have been quite the encounter if she earned that level of trust."

Yet even as Sibylla spoke, her hand lingered where it had brushed through his hair, fingers betraying her as she continued with one last, unconscious cafune. And when his thumb began to trace slow, deliberate circles across her skin and his voice fell into that low, disarming murmur, her laughter faded into something caught between that lingering rush of their argument and something far less sensible.

One of a kind… and thank the stars, I have you to put me in my place.

For a heartbeat, neither of them breathed.

It should not have made her heart skip. It should not have made her want to look away and yet hold Aurelian's gaze all the same, her pulse betraying her as the quiet gravity of his voice and the way the sunlight framed his face drew her in. His words were far too sincere to be brushed aside as mere charm or jest. The last traces of adrenaline still hummed through her blood, making every word, every inch between them, feel amplified.

"Careful," Sibylla said at last, her voice softer than intended. Her hazel eyes lifted to his, the faint curve of her lips betraying both warmth and challenge. "Flattery spoken like that could have consequences neither of us would find very professional."

She drew in a slow, steady breath, her fingers tightening faintly around his.

"Strictly speaking," she said, her voice lowering to something almost conspiratorial, "... professionally, of course."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Is it hot in here?
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian's smile deepened, slow and dangerous, the kind that started in his eyes before it touched his mouth. Her words hung between them, soft and teasing, but they only stoked the fire simmering beneath his skin. "Consequences," he murmured, his voice low and velvet-rich. "You make that sound like a threat, Your Majesty."

He didn't move at first. He just studied her, watching the sunlight catch in her hair and the pulse visible just beneath the skin where his thumb still brushed her hand. The air felt thick with unsaid tension, and for a heartbeat, the distance between them felt painfully deliberate.

Then he shifted. His fingers slipped from hers, trailing up slowly, tracing the inside of her wrist before his hand came to rest at her elbow. The warmth of her skin beneath his palm burned through him, grounding and intoxicating. "Professionally," he echoed, just above a whisper. His lips curved as he leaned in a fraction closer. "You say that as if I've ever been good at keeping things professional with you."

Her breath mingled with his, so close... too close. The world seemed to narrow just to the soft rhythm of it. Every thought of politics, Republic decrees, and diplomatic decorum vanished under the weight of her nearness. He wanted to close the space between them. His body leaned toward her before his mind could stop him, pulled by the scent of her perfume and the tremor of her breath. The memory of the beach flashed sharp in his chest: the taste of salt and the look on her face afterward. Shock and regret still twisted his stomach when he remembered it.

So he stopped. His breath came slow, heavy, and measured, forcing the pulse in his throat to still. His hand slipped back, lingering just long enough to brush her forearm before retreating, a ghost of what he wanted. He cleared his throat softly, a crooked smile tugging at his lips to mask the restraint. "Tona," he said, his voice quieter now, steadier, though the edge of it still carried the remnants of the storm.

"You're right. You deserve that story, and I would like to hear the one of Cordé." His gaze softened as he met her eyes again. "Whenever you want to hear them. No secrets, anymore." He tilted his head slightly, a strand of dark hair falling into his face as his tone dipped to something softer, almost tender. "You already see more of me than anyone else, Sibylla. I think I'd like you to know the rest."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Are you gonna.... oh.
Aurelian Veruna

The air still hummed with the memory of Aurelian's nearness, the warmth that lingered from his hand, and the faint traces of lavender and citrus that clung to his cloak. Sibylla stood utterly still, her pulse betraying her in the hollow of her throat. The sound of her own breathing filled the sudden quiet with uneven, shallow breaths, as if she had forgotten how to draw air properly.

For a fleeting, treacherous moment, she had thought he might kiss her. The tilt of his head, the rough edge of his breath, the way his voice had dropped, it all felt too familiar, too deliberate. And when he stopped, when that tension broke and he stepped back, the absence hit her like a plunge into cold water.

Sibylla felt her chest tighten and a strange ache of disappointment settle before she could make sense of it. She shouldn't have wanted him to. She shouldn't have felt that brief, sharp pull, that need to close the space he had left behind.

Focus.

She blinked rapidly, forcing herself to breathe, to think. Her heart was still racing, her skin felt too warm. And while he had stepped away, the scent of him still hung between them, the ghost of his touch still alive along her forearm and wrist. It was unbearable how much she noticed him now, the way sunlight spilled across his profile, gilding that errant curl that fell over his brow as though daring her to look too long.

When he finally spoke again, it was softer, steadier, as though he too were clawing back composure. His promise, no secrets anymore, lingered in her ears, threaded with a tenderness that only made her pulse trip faster.

Sibylla swallowed hard as her tongue felt dry and barely managed to find her voice, though it came out quieter than she intended.

"Then we'll trade stories," she said at last, willing herself to sound composed.

"Perhaps when we both have time to do so properly, over a drink, maybe...Corde mentioned House Serraris has an upcoming Masquerade Ball." she added quietly in invitation as her lips curved faintly in an attempt at levity, but it faltered beneath the weight of that amber gaze. There it was again, that same quiet gravity, the kind that unraveled her resolve thread by thread.

He had said she saw more of him than anyone else. And the worst part was that she believed it. Fingers brushed lightly over the spot where his hand had rested only moments ago, a restless, thoughtless motion she covered with a soft exhale.

"And for what it's worth," she murmured, glancing sidelong at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips, "you've seen more of me than anyone else. For better or worse, no one manages to unsettle my composure quite the way you do."

The silence that followed stretched thin between them, heavy with everything unspoken, the things she hadn't asked, the things he hadn't dared to say. Her gaze drifted once more to that single curl that refused to obey him, and she felt the faintest tug at the corner of her mouth.

A knock on the door drew their attention, breaking the tension and the moment as Sibylla turned her gaze towards the wide double doors.

"Your Majesty," Corde's voice called through the wide double doors. "The Prince of Moenia has arrived for his appointment."

Sibylla inhaled slowly, the sound of her breath the only thing she trusted herself with. Her heartbeat hadn't quite settled, no matter how carefully she masked it. Turning toward the doors, she smoothed her expression back into calm, though a trace of that lingering ache still pressed at her chest.

"Well," she said softly, her tone finding that careful balance between warmth and wit, "duty calls. I imagine Tona has a small mountain of decrees waiting for you to sign. And unless you'd like to tempt Corde's patience again…"

The briefest of flickers danced over her smile as she took another breath, reminding herself of where they were.

"We should get back to work, High Chancelor."

And with that, she gave him an incline of her head, the moment between them folding neatly, carefully, into silence.