𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃; ʜᴘ (𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃)

𝟎𝟗𝟔; ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ & ᴄʜᴇss

"ANYTHING...?" Ophelia questioned.

"Would you kneel to me...? Surrender your pride?" Ophelia asked him dully.

The Court took a sharp breath.

If anything Ophiuchus and Crovus have in common with each other besides a body, it is their pride.

They are a prideful being. They'd rather die than surrender it. The Court has seen the length they've done for their pride and to protect it.

They aren't sure what is to happen.

"I can't trust your words. Not anymore. As words can be twisted into any shape. Promises can be made to lull the heart and seduce the soul. In the final analysis, your words mean nothing." She looked him dead in the eye, as she draw her blood stained hand back away from his neck.

Corvus runs a gloved hand through his hair before looking at Ophelia.

"In the end pride is the only evil, the root of all sins. Our pride is all we have." He told her.

"It had kept us running when love had betrayed us. We are pride personified, to ask us to relinquish our pride— is to ask us to give ourselves— our entire being up to you."

Ophelia gives him a blank look.

"So you aren't." She said sharply.

Corvus laughed softly, and smiles.

He looked at her as if she hung the moon and stars.

"I never said I wouldn't, Moonbeam."

Like a film playing in a slow motion, they watched
as Corvus closed his eyes and takes a step back.

The Court was in shock.

Corvus places his hand on his heart as he starts to lower his body— but stops suddenly.

He raised his head up, as his hand dropped back to his side. When he opened his eyes they were no longer shining heliotropes.

They were dull sterling.

Ophiuchus was back in control.

His eyes met with Ophelia's.

Both of them had an expressionless as they gazed
at each other. They pair continued to stare each other down neither wavering.

"I hate you." Ophelia had spoken finally breaking
the heavy silence. "Both of you."

'Moonbeam... Ophiuchus! Let me out—' Ophiuchus blocked out all of Corvus's pleading to be let out.

"Everyone is wrong when they say, you are like your mother. You know why? You are— worse than her." Her voice was cold.

"What?" Ophiuchus glared.

"You heard me. You are pathetic. I can't imagine
just how your friends even deal with you. Major props to them, for putting up with all your shit.
It is a bloody miracle that they are all still by your side. My question is do you even view them as your friends or your pawns? After all everyone is just a tool for you to use." She seethed.

"You can't change the system unless you know it well. Similar to how you can't play chess well unless you know all the moves and all the pieces and their functions." He stated.

"You see pawns are such fascinating pieces. They
are so small, almost insignificant, and yet they
can depose, Kings. Don't you find that interesting? What is a weak pawn? A pawn that is exposed to attack and also difficult to defend is a weak pawn. There are several varieties— isolated, doubled, too advanced, defective. None of my pawns are any of those. I make sure of it." Ophiuchus told her.