Phaenora did not slow her steps. Asenane barely had time to look up before she got punched on the face.
Asenane was lifted off her feet and thrown sideways, crashing into the grass hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs. The sheep scattered. She coughed, rolling onto her side with shock written all over her face.
"What the hell?"
"What did you say to Darling.to make him start acting like that?"
Asenane pushed herself up on one elbow, still stunned.
"I told him the truth that he died. That he gave up. That he killed himself. And it was justified—"
Phaenora laughed and it was not out of amusement.
"Wow. You're actually stupid."
"What?"
"You stand there, acting like you're the you're the one who got hurt when you're the one who's been hurting him this entire time."
"I don't—"
Phaenora snapped, grabbing Asenane by the blouse and yanking her up to her knees.
"Shut up. Just shut up and listen for once in your life."
Asenane didn't resist, not when Phaenora's grip was shaking this badly.
"Ever since the Obsidian Runic Spire, when you took his heart and his eyes, he has been in constant pain. He didn't have a heart anymore. Those pseudo-cores you love talking about? They didn't just give him power. They replaced his heart. They kept him alive and they hurt every second."
Her voice cracked slightly but she pushed through it.
"When he woke up in the morning, he was in pain. When he walked, he was in pain. When he fought, he endured agony because his body was never meant to function like that."
Asenane's eyes wavered.
"And his Mystic Eyes? They never turned off. Ever. You know what that does? It causes migraines that would make most people beg to die. And he just… endured it. He smiled through it and pretended it was fine. Only I could see how much pain he was in. Ever since he met you, he has never known relief."
Asenane swallowed. "I didn't—"
"And here you are, angry because he 'almost killed himself'? Do you have any idea when his suicidal tendencies started?"
Asenane went silent.
"They started in your Spire. They began on those floors where the only way to survive was to lose something over and over again. Body parts. Sense. Safety. Self. You made him see self-sacrifice as normal. You turned it into his default solution."
Asenane's lips parted but no words came out.
"He sacrificed himself for Narisva because of that. He kept throwing himself in front of danger in the Hidden Citadel because of that. Every time he thought, 'It's fine if it's me.'"
She shoved Asenane back slightly, still holding her.
"And now you're standing here whining about how angry you are? About how hurt you feel over something that is a direct result of what you did to him?"
Asenane's eyes trembled. She looked away but Phaenora grabbed her chin and forced her to look up.
"Why are you quiet now, huh? Even after he forgave you for taking his heart and his eyes, he still lived in agony every single day. And you know what the worst part is? He never blamed you. Not even once. He decided that pain was just… normal. That this was the price of living."
She released Asenane abruptly, standing back.
"And now you dare to guilt him for doing what he's been conditioned to do since your Spire broke him?"
Asenane's shoulders shook. She still didn't speak.
"Stay away from him from now on."
Asenane looked up, startled.
"If you ever, make him feel guilty again for protecting the people he loves, if you ever twist his trauma into an accusation, I will kill you. I swear this in the name of Spheraphase."
Phaenora did not look back after she walked away. She kept moving until she saw the cabin from above a gentle slope. She sat on the grass in deep thought.
To her, Vastarael was never someone to lean on. He was always been someone to protect.
When she first met him when he we seven years old, she had not seen a prodigy or a monarch-in-waiting. She had seen a boy who had learned far too early that pain was normal and survival meant endurance. His parents did not raise him like a child. Every lesson had been brutal. Every failure was punished. Every success was treated as the bare minimum. Dynasty Monarchs were not allowed to be weak and soft and he endured it without complaint. That alone had intrigued her.
Then came the Erna Isles. He endured loss piled on loss, blood, sacrifice and decisions no one should have made and forced to normalize. And through all of it, he learned one simple rule that carved itself into his soul:
If something had to be lost for others to live, it should be him.
That was how he survived. That was how he kept moving forward. That was the logic the world rewarded him for. So of course self-sacrifice became instinct. Obviously, risking his life felt normal. He never searched for another option unless someone forced him to.
Phaenora hated that part of him.
She hated how casually he stepped into danger, how easily he dismissed his own existence as expendable and how he calculated loss and always placed himself at the top of the list. The other beloveds hated it too. They argued with him, scolded him, yelled at him but still loved him despite it.
But hatred born from love was not the same as hatred born from judgment. What Phaenora could never forgive was anyone using that tendency against him. And with Asenane, that hatred ran deepest because Asenane was not just an observer. She was the origin of his troubles.
If it were not for the Obsidian Runic Spire, if it were not for the floors that demanded sacrifice to continue, if it were not for the choices that forced him to trade pieces of himself just to stay alive, Vastarael would have been weaker, yes, but he would have been whole.
And Asenane dared to use the strength born from that trauma as justification. She dared to convince herself that the outcome excused the damage. She dared to believe she stood on moral high ground while standing on the ruins of his body and soul.
That was unforgivable.
What hurt Phaenora the most was that Asenane believed he had killed himself. Phaenora knew better. Through the Sapphire Bond, she had felt everything.
His energy was ripped from him faster than it could regenerate. His body failed piece by piece. His pseudo-cores shattered. The agony that tore through his soul as Omniphage fought a losing battle against the Sucking Void. She had felt his desperation, his refusal to stop fighting and his terror that was not of death, but of failing the people he loved.
He had not wanted to die and yet, he let Asenane believe that lie because he felt guilty. He was guilty for surviving so many times before. He felt guilty for making them worry. He felt guilty for always being the one who bled first and existing in a way that caused pain to the people who loved him.
So he stayed silent.
"I really did swear to kill her."
And that was the cruel part. She could not break that vow.
Vows sworn in the name of Spheraphase did not bend to emotion. If Asenane crossed that line again and if she ever made him feel like a burden for surviving the only way he knew how, Phaenora would have to fulfill it.
She would not regret it. Even if Shimmer hated her, or the other beloveds turned away and even if Vastarael himself looked at her with disappointment or anger, she would never regret it. At the end of everything, she was his Omniscient.
Even if the world burned, even if everyone else stood in danger and even if it meant placing him above daughters, lovers and kingdom, she would choose him over anyone else.
Thyrexxa had given her that role for a reason. She was to guide him and protect him at any cost.
No matter how much he hated himself, she would stand between Vastarael Richinaria and the world. To her, the romantic love she had for him was that of protection.