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"I'd hate for you to miss the ceremony," Daelia said, emerging from one of the flower bushes. In his elegant white gown, Dolis was rendered speechless. Not that Daelia wasn't breathtaking before, but in his council garb, Dolis wondered if Vitol's flowers had been crafted with Daelia as his muse. If the god of love had been a flower, Dolis was sure he'd be the most prized and beautiful in all of Estruela. Daelia cleared his throat. "When I asked if you were attending, I hadn't meant hiding away in Vitol's garden. It'll be starting soon."

Dolis nodded slowly, his eyes falling to the garden's stone path beneath them. "I'll be there in a moment. I wish to admire Vitol's garden for a little longer."

Dolis didn't know when or if there would be a next time to be invited to the council again, but he wasn't about to tell Daelia that.

"Daelia," a voice called from the archways. As an attendant's footsteps neared, Dolis retreated, taking a step back with his head bowed. The god didn't say anything if he had noticed Dolis, instead ushering Daelia inside. "The council requests your presence."

"I'll be there in just a moment," he responded kindly. The attendant bowed and returned, leaving the two of them alone again. Daelia flashed a genuine smile to Dolis. "I'm sure admiring the garden can wait. Join us inside when you are ready."

Dolis nodded, the fluttering in his stomach returning. He watched the god follow the attendant past the archways before disappearing into the room full of gods. He steadied his breath, placing a hand against his stomach as if to quell the butterflies before turning to the flowers beside him.

It was the same white velvety flowers Daelia had caressed the first time he had caught Dolis in the garden, one that smelled as divine and illuminated a space as the god of love himself.

He knew better, but he reached out a hand, gently gazing his calloused fingers against the petals.

It felt millions of times softer than what he had expected it to, worlds different from what the dying mare's coat felt like under his grasp.

And to his surprise, the flower did not wilt, did not brown or crumple under his hand.

At that moment, Dolis wondered what else he had held back from before. How many things had he deprived himself of based on what the others had told him about his powers or destructive forces? Had he not tried to touch the flower, would he ever know what it felt like?

His eyes trailed to the room across the garden; celebrations sounded more like a beacon than a warning sign now. If he stood amongst them now, would they look at him differently? See that he was more than just a cowering fool of a god, afraid of his own power. Would they see that he, too, was someone of worth and praise as Daelia had told him?

Would he be accepted and loved?

How could he know if he didn't try?

He traced his finger over the delicate flowers once more, giving the garden a once over before deciding to return to the ceremony.

Daelia had already started their speech when Dolis returned.

"As you all have noticed, the contest for my hand and earning a place amongst the council has concluded. It would be a lie if I said I wasn't flattered by all of the participants, but I cannot announce the winner until I address the important matter at hand."

There were a lot of confused looks in the crowd as they gossiped with each other. Xiros approached Dolis, who slipped past a few groups of lesser goddesses, making a beeline to the corner of the room they agreed to stay in.

"The gardens again?" Xiros said. "I feared you left me on my own here."

"I wouldn't have done that to you," Dolis corrected. "And, yes. I wanted to admire the gardens again."