For a second, Aster isn’t sure of how to answer. “It’s… nice. It’s been nice! The queen was really welcoming when I arrived, and Seraphina – my personal maid – she’s super accommodating, and she’s helped me out a lot. I think I even managed to get closer to her in the past week!”

“Yeah? That’s good.” The side of Damien’s mouth pulls up. “And what about Prince Charming? How was meeting him?”

Like a puddle in the desert, the stream of words in Aster’s head turns to vapor. Maybe it’s because Damien’s known about her engagement ever since they were kids, but admitting about what’s happened since her first day in the palace feels harder than it should be. “It was…” She says haltingly. 

If Damien finds her hesitance strange, he doesn’t let it show. Instead he continues to look at her evenly, patient as he waits for her to continue.

Aster sighs, a single breath weighted with all the words she’s kept bottled up. “I think…” she says, voice small. “I think he hates me.” 

If Damien is shocked, it doesn’t show on his face. “Why would you think that?” He asks quietly. 

Aster’s recount of her past week starts off slowly: her meeting with Flynn in the garden, his cutting words, the chill he’d left her with. Gradually and gradually, like a dam close to bursting, her words escape her in a flood that turns into a torrent: his absence at breakfast the next day, the way he failed to show up to every other meal after, the fact that she hasn’t seen so much of a hair on his head despite walking around the palace every single day. 

Once she’s finished, only then does Aster register the way her hands are shaking. She clasps them together, hoping that Damien hasn’t noticed. 

Damien looks contemplative, gaze going unfocused again. Finally, he sighs, a hand dragging down his face.  “I didn’t think Flynn was the kind of guy to pull something like this. I’m sorry, princess.”

It’s so weird that Aster has to scoff. “Why are you apologising?”

“Well,” Damien shrugs. “I’ve spent enough time around your fiancé in the past year to think of him as a friend. Call it an apology on his behalf.”

“Are you two close?” Aster recalls the way he’d used Florian’s nickname. 

“Close…” Damien lists his head to the side. “Sorta? Unlike the rest of the palace, Flynn actually likes hanging out at the magic tower, so he’s always there half the time. Since Han hates any kind of formality, we’ve never given him special treatment whenever he comes around, so I guess that made it easier to get familiar.”

“Huh.” Aster laces her fingers together and unlaces them. Lace, unlace. Lace, unlace. “Then… what’s he like around you guys?”

“Flynn?”

Aster nods.

“He’s a total nerd.”

That startles a laugh out of Aster. “Really?”

“Really. It’s the main reason why Han and him get along so well. They both get real passionate about stuff, sometimes so much that it’s almost scary,” Damien says wryly. “If Flynn had even a drop of magic in him, I’m sure Han would’ve dropped me for him in a heartbeat.”

“He wouldn’t.”

Damien laughs. “Okay, maybe not. I’d give it a 50/50; I do have my uses after all.” He settles back in his seat languidly. “But overall, from what I know about Flynn, I’d say he’s a decent guy.”

“Decent guys don’t snub their fiances when they meet them after years of silence,” Aster mutters bitterly. “And I’m sure as Hale they don’t skip out on breakfast just to avoid seeing them.”

“That’s true too,” Damien concedes. His face seems to soften. “I’m sorry.”

“Why’re you apologising so much? It’s weird.”

“But you were looking forward to seeing him again. Weren’t you?”

Her fingers lace together again; lace, lace, lace- tight enough for the tips of her fingers to turn red. She can’t bring herself to look away. 

A finger taps on the back of her hand. When she looks up, she’s immediately met with Damien’s gaze. All of a sudden, she’s overwhelmed by the urge to cry.

She tamps down the feeling. When she speaks again, her voice is small. “…How could I not look forward to seeing him?”

The look on Damien’s face is gentle.“You want me to talk to him?” He asks. “Find out why he’s been acting this way towards you?”

Yes. 

No. 

“I don’t know,” Aster says. “I don’t wanna drag you into anything.”

“Since when have you ever dragged me into anything?” Damien says wryly. “Not once have I ever done anything in my life that I wasn’t willing to do of my own volition.”

“Yeah, but… what if he starts avoiding you too? Aren’t you guys friends?”

“And aren’t you my best friend? I’d say in terms of rank, you far outstrip him.”

It’s so ridiculous that Aster has to laugh. “You’d better not let anyone hear you say that last part. Who knows what they’d do to you?”

“Let them at me. I can handle it.” The look on his face is so stupidly cocksure that it has Aster cracking up even more. “I mean it, Aster,” he says, with a certain kind of gravity. “If it means ruining whatever kind of friendship I’ve built with Flynn over the past year, I’d gladly throw it away if it meant sticking up for you.”

It’s the truth. Aster knows, not just because he’s resorted to using her actual name instead of the nickname he’d pinned her with since they were kids. But because they’ve been together far too long for Damien’s words not to ring true. 

“I know,” Aster says. Because if their roles had been reversed, if Damien was the one in her shoes, she’d be saying the exact same thing to him too. 

“Good.”

She wonders if the way they are now is a testament to their friendship; the way a year-long eternity dwindles to nothing in the space of her study, feet tucked atop her desk as she watches the silver in Damien’s ear glint in the firelight. 

“I missed you.”

Damien’s eyebrows raise perceptibly, clearly not expecting that from her so out of the blue. But then his face softens, every sharp edge giving way to a single, fond smile. 

“Glad to know I wasn’t the only one.”