Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

Khione lingered by a shelf of teddy bears, her gaze drawn again and again to a small white one with a ribbon around its neck. She didn't reach for it—perhaps she thought it childish, perhaps she feared letting her façade slip—but Nero saw it. He always saw.

"Go on," he said, his voice low, tinged with amusement. "Pick one."

Her eyes flicked toward him, a trace of pink dusting her cheeks though her expression hardly shifted. "…Don't be absurd. I'm not—"

Before she could finish, Nero reached up and plucked the little white bear from the shelf, holding it out to her with the same ease he might wield his sword. "This one suits you," he remarked, his crimson eyes gleaming with quiet mischief.

For a heartbeat, she hesitated. Then, against her own better judgment, her slender fingers accepted the toy. The contrast was striking—Khione, the Ice Queen with her frosty poise, cradling a soft, fluffy bear in her hands. It was almost surreal, like fire and snow caught in the same frame.

As they moved deeper into the shop, Nero continued his quiet mischief. Every time her eyes lingered, he caught it and pulled the plush from the shelf, handing it to her without a word. A pale blue rabbit. A small penguin with a scarf. A clumsy-looking dragon that looked more silly than fearsome. Each time, she tried to object, tried to dismiss it with a shake of her head, but the faint curve in her lips betrayed her.

Her coldness wasn't breaking—it was softening, just slightly, enough to let a sliver of warmth through. And to Nero, that was worth more than any victory on the battlefield.

By the time they left the store, a modest bag of teddy bears and soft toys rested in her hands. She held it carefully, almost protectively, though she said nothing. The sun had risen higher, spilling golden light across the street, catching on the curve of her cheek as she walked beside him in silence.

Nero stole a glance at her, noting the subtle glow in her eyes, the way she looked down at the bag as though it carried more than just fabric and fluff. To anyone else, it was a small thing. But to her—it was happiness, fragile and quiet, hidden beneath layers of ice.

And for Nero, watching her in that moment, the experience was more than worthwhile.

Their next stop was a grand gallery nestled at the heart of the city, its towering glass façade reflecting the morning light like a jewel. The building itself was a work of art—sleek marble pillars flanking the entrance, intricate carvings etched into the stone, and banners fluttering gently in the breeze, each adorned with brushstrokes of color announcing the current exhibits.

"You've been here before," Nero said, half a statement, half a question.

She gave a faint nod, lips curving ever so slightly. "Yes. Several times." Her gaze lingered on the banners above. "Art has… always been a quiet escape."

It was the first time Nero saw her like this—open, almost vulnerable. He couldn't help but smile faintly.

Inside, the gallery was vast and serene, the hush of reverence wrapping around them like a second skin. Polished marble floors reflected the soft glow of golden chandeliers. The walls stretched high, displaying countless works—oil paintings of vivid landscapes, portraits that seemed alive with emotion, sculptures carved with painstaking detail, and abstract swirls of color that felt like captured storms.

At first, Nero's steps were slow, cautious. He had never set foot in a place like this, and every piece he passed felt like a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. But Khione moved with ease. She walked gracefully ahead, her posture still regal, yet her eyes softened as they lingered on each piece.

"This one," she said at last, stopping before a massive painting of a frozen lake under a twilight sky, the brushstrokes blending icy blues with faint streaks of crimson. "The painter called it Eternal Silence. It was his way of capturing grief."

Nero tilted his head, staring at the canvas. At first glance, it was simply cold, lifeless. But as he looked longer, he noticed the subtle details—how the lake's frozen surface reflected faint stars, how a single broken tree leaned at the edge, how the horizon carried both despair and a sliver of dawn.

"It feels… lonely," Nero murmured, surprising even himself.

Khione's ice blue eyes flickered toward him, a glimmer of approval hidden within their depths. "Lonely, but enduring. That is what makes it beautiful."

They moved on, stopping at sculptures of warriors frozen mid-strike, portraits of queens and kings long gone, abstract paintings that spoke of chaos and dreams.

Each time, Nero listened as Khione explained—not lecturing, but sharing, her voice softer than her usual cold tone. She spoke of brushstrokes, of meaning hidden in colors, of artists who painted with blood mixed in their ink to capture true despair.

For two hours, he followed her through the labyrinth of halls, watching not just the art, but her. The way her eyes lit with recognition, the faint smile tugging at her lips when she stood before a favorite painting, the silence that wrapped around her when she stood too long in front of a tragic piece.

And slowly, Nero realized—this was her world. A place where her frozen mask slipped, where the sharp Ice Queen softened into a woman who felt deeply, though she rarely showed it.

By the end, as they stood before a final piece—a sculpture of a winged figure breaking free from chains, carved so delicately it looked as though it might fly away—Nero spoke quietly.

"You really love this, don't you?"

Khione's gaze stayed on the sculpture, her hand tightening slightly around the strap of her bag. "…I do. Art doesn't lie. It preserves what words cannot."

For a long moment, they simply stood there, side by side in silence, the world around them muted by the beauty of creation.

Spending time with someone you appreciate can make you understand them better which is a must. Their first date must be memorable for them.