MAKE THE DEVIL PRAY // Ebon Light

HARON ✣ RED CARNATION

Haron adjusted his suit in the mirror and flashed himself his trademark smirk. Not half bad, ladykiller. In fact, if looks could kill, he'd put Ecarae out of a job. Everything he wore was tailor-made, ironed and pressed to perfection. Clothes were important but how you'd wear them was equally so—and every elf in Gha'alia knew Haron Milirose was the poster boy for roguish charm.

So damn self-assured over almost anything. Almost anything.

"Haron?"

She murmured from his family's drawing room and his heart did a double-take. Haron's smirk faltered and cracked into a pained smile. He needed to catch himself before he hurt himself over this.

"Just one moment, madralee," he promised, steeling himself and trying his best to smooth over the knot doubling down on his gut. His life was one ragtag montage of questionable decisions but at least it gave him the intuition of knowing when he was going to make an awful choice. In fact, spending time alone with her was about as great of a decision as tying himself down on a train track.

She peered up at him as he sauntered back into the drawing room to join her. Her hair fell in gentle waves on the mahogany desk from how far she was leaning. Sleep heavied her eyes and she was struggling to keep them open.

All Haron wanted to do was sweep her off her feet bridal-style, kiss her eyes shut and murmur elvish lullabies while she curled up to him. Then he'd want to wake up the next morning to her burying her nose in the crook of his neck, tangling her legs between his, tangling her fingers in his hair—he was her's but she wasn't his, and the only place they were in love was in his head.

"Would you like some tea?" Haron said, a hollow smile on his lips, "I'll sprinkle some Cuthintal in just for you."

A gentle laugh. It was tragically beautiful to him.

"Duliae said no tea before bed."

"Of course."

She opened her eyes and trailed her hand down his shoulder. Haron swallowed hard and put on a brave face for her. Duliae didn't deserve this sort of respect from her. She was his caged bird. It wasn't an act of love, it was an act of possession.

"Do you... think he'd like this dress?" she slurred, sleep stirring her words, "Skylar helped me pick it."

"It's not as beautiful as you are."

Nothing is as stunning as you are.

"You're full of hot air."

Haron's heart broke a little right there, right then. It wasn't surprising his reputation would consume his goodwill. He forced himself to chuckle and nod along. Let her sleep. He shrugged off his suit and draped it over her shoulders.

This was something he'd need to suffer through on his own. Ernol was close friends with Duliae. There'd be no way he'd subject his brother to a heated feud between The Onyx Chandler and himself. It'd kill Ernol. 

There was a flicker of light from the table. Haron glimpsed their reflections in the glass vase standing like a sentinel between them and the rest of the world. A flower he ordered from her home island dipped its head for them. The merchant told him the meaning of it. 

Red carnation - my heart aches for you.