Alaric searched Julian’s face, his chest heaving. He hated it. He hated every syllable of the plan, but he saw the truth in Julian’s eyes: the scholar was willing to walk into the fire to keep the North from burning.

If even now, he wanted to be defiant and keep Julian just so he could see him every waking hour and hold him in his arms, Julian would call him childish and an unreasonable leader.

This plan... was for the safety of all of them, not just Julian.

"Two months," Alaric vowed, the words sounding like a heavy, iron seal coming from his lips. "Not a second more, Julian. I will have my scouts at every pass. I will have my knights stationed at the border. And if you are not back when the time has come..."

His eyes turned into shards of ice, reflecting a violence that made the air in the hall grow cold.

"Then I permit you to burn it all to ash," Julian finished for him, his voice steady. "If they do not let me back to you, Lucien... I want you to bring the North to their gates and turn their white roads to red."

Alaric pulled him back into a crushing embrace, burying his face in Julian’s hair.

"I will be counting every heartbeat until you return. If they touch so much as a hair on your head, God will not be able to save them from me."

"I understand," Julian whispered, listening to the Duke’s heart. "But I am not leaving right away, so before then, let us spend our moments together even more wisely, alright?"

The moment he said that, the Duke pulled his head back and captured his lips without warning.

After about five seconds, he broke the kiss, looking Julian in the eyes and declaring.

"Your heart... Your body... Your soul... Your everything..." he placed a kiss on Julian’s neck and then with a gruff voice over Julian’s skin, he added. "Belongs to me."

"Yes, it all belongs to you, Lucien. My everything," Julian said, cupping the Duke’s face and kissing his lips.

The situation had taken a path that Julian had not seen before. He knew not how to project the danger ahead, or how to navigate the unknown roads.

But... he did know one thing.

That at the end of it all, he would come back to this very point... the starting point of it all.

The next morning, the courtyard was still filled with the low murmur of the hopeful and the sick, but the atmosphere had changed.

The news of the ’miracle’ had solidified.

It was no longer a tale of the mouth, but their eyes had seen it. The mother whose child had been healed had made sure to spread the word.

Her boy was healthy, so much so that his skin was warm and glowing even in this cold weather.

It was enough to pack more people through the gates, those who wanted to witness the miracle, and those who wanted to be involved in the miracle.

Julian stood at the top of the manor steps, Alaric looming behind him like a mountain of shadow.

Elian stood below, his silver hair gleaming, his expression one of patient victory.

"The Saint has had a night of reflection," Elian said, bowing low. "Has the Light finally shown you the path to the Holy City?"

Julian looked down at the Priest, pure indifference dancing in his eyes. Yes, the priest had won, but not for long. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

"Let us talk," Julian said, and Elian nodded with a graceful bow.

"I will be right up,"

Julian watched him as he walked up the stairs until he stopped a few feet away, his hands clasped together in prayer as he bowed his head.

"It is an honor to be in your presence, Saint."

His actions left Julian feeling disturbed. This was the same man who had plotted and tried everything to get Julian to accept his role as Saint.

"You... why did you not heal that child?" Julian asked first and foremost.

He was more concerned about whether this was the moral conduct of the church, if this was how they treated human lives.

"What if I had ignored him and he had died? What if the miracle you were hoping to see had not come? What if—?"

"Ah, Saint," Elias cut him short. "It seems you do not realize it, but your divinity, even when hidden, radiates around you. And only those who are strong in the faith can feel it. I felt it the moment I touched you, and I was certain that you had the power to perform a miracle."

Julian frowned. That time he touched him and used his divinity on him, was that when he found out?

Julian had thought it was just a simple check, but he did see something.

"Then what if I had ignored the crying mother because?" He asked, but Elian shook his head, his silver white hair shaking smoothly and catching the light.

"Your heart is not that hard," he said. "There is no way you could ignore the crying mother and remain at peace. That is what I observed through your interaction with the Young Lord."

Julian flinched.

"You are a scholar and your heart bothers on conscience and goodwill. Though it was a gamble, the stakes that you would hear her cries were very high."

Julian folded his arms, his gaze hardening as he stared down at the silver-haired man who had used a child’s life as a chip in a game of chess.

​"I had no idea Priests gambled," Julian said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy register.

He was usually calm and collected, but on this topic, he could not find his resolve to keep his tone calm.

​"We do not gamble with money or material things, Saint," Elian replied, his smile suddenly bleeding into something sharper, something almost sinister. "We gamble with faith and good works. And as I suspected, your spirit is far too loud for you to remain silent while the world weeps."

​"You used a dying boy to bait a hook," Julian countered, stepping forward until he was mere inches from the Purifier.

He ignored the way the priests in the courtyard gasped at his lack of ’reverence.’

"You let a mother scream in the snow because you wanted to prove a point. If that is the ’Light’ you serve, Elian, then your Heavens are a very cold place."