Bride of The Eclipse

The Proposal

I should have said no. That was the thought that came first. Soft. Quiet. Almost polite—like everything else I had learned to be.

And yet… When the Sun God said my name, something inme had already moved before I could stop it. “I cannot accept,” I said.

My voice did not shake. I kept it soft—elegant, as I always had. The kind of voice that never demanded space, only requested it.

“I am not suited for such a union, my lord.” There was a pause. Not disappointment. Just stillness. Solarius Aurelian did not look away. That was what unsettled me.

Most beings, divine or otherwise, eventually learned to stop looking at me too closely. There was something in prolonged attention that made people uncomfortable—like they were afraid of what might look back at them.

But he did not flinch. He simply studied me. “You are mistaken,” he said gently. Certainly. “I did not come to take something unsuitable.”

My breath caught, though I refused to show it. He stepped forward just slightly. Not enough to threaten. Only enough to close distance.

“I came because I have already chosen you.” My fingers tightened faintly at my sside

“My lord,” I tried again, softer this time, “marriage between gods is not always dictated by preference.” A faint shift in his expression—almost amusement, but restrained.

“I am aware. I am the Sun. I do not orbit what I have already set my light upon.”

Silence followed. Heavy in a different way than before. I should have stepped back. I should have refused again. But I did not. My voice lowered. “Even if I am not what you believe me to be?”

His gaze did not waver. “Then I will learn what you are.”

“I am not easy to understand,” I said quietly.

Then he extended his hand. An offering. “Selene Thaloriel,” he said, “I ask you once more. Will you become my future wife?”

Future wife. I looked at his hand for a long moment.

Then at him. And for reasons I still do not fully understand… I placed my hand in his. A faint warmth passed through me.

“I will,” I said. Very softly. Almost like a confession I did not mean to make. A small smile touched his expression. Relieved. “Then I will return,” he said, releasing my hand gently. “There are matters in the solar court I must attend before formal arrangements are made.”

I nodded once. And just like that— he left. The palace did not stay quiet for long. Seraphine broke first.

At first, it was laughter. Sharp. Disbelieving.

“It’s not fair,” she said. Then again, louder. “It’s not FAIR!”

The sound cracked through the hall like something breaking. "Doesn't that mean I'm marrying that monster? I don't want to!"

Servants froze. My father said nothing.

My sstepmothe seems hesitate to move. Seraphine turned toward me. Her eyes were wide—wet, furious, childlike in a way I had never seen before.

“You took him,” she hissed. “I did not,” I said calmly. But she was not listening.

“He was supposed to be mine!” she screamed. And then she collapsed into herself, like something had finally snapped beneath the weight of expectation. She turned and ran. No one stopped her.

I did not feel anything. Not joy or guilt. Not even surprise. I had never learned how to feel responsibility for something I did not choose. If anything…I felt distance. Between her and me. Between her desires and my existence. Between the life she believed was stolen from her… and the one I had never been allowed to want.

That night, I stood alone by the window. The moon was faint.bWatching. Silent. As always.

Far beneath all realms, beyond even divine jurisdiction, the underworld stirred. Malakar Noctryx hummed. It was not a song anyone else would recognize. Not something meant for comfort. Something older. Something amused.

One of his servants approached carefully. “My lord… you seem pleased.” A pause. The air around him felt heavier than usual. Dangerously calm.

“Am I?” Malakar replied. His voice was low. Almost lazy. Almost entertained. “Yes,” the servant said cautiously. “Since the proposal lists were sent—”

A faint chuckle interrupted him. Not cruel nor kind. Something in between. “I think,” Malakar said slowly, leaning back on his throne, “I am about to get lucky.”

The servant did not ask what he meant. No one ever asked too many questions in his presence. Not if they wished to remain whole. And with that, he closed his eyes and continue with his own joy.