I am the patriarch... Scorpius argues, but he sounds weak even to his own ears. Yes, all of them have the responsibility to protect the pride, and the family, but when someone calls to take it he is the one who has to answer it. He is the one that will bleed and break bone to protect them all. If nothing else, Seneca taught him that, and he did it over and over again.

The boy king listens intently, a stirring of guilt in his stomach as Septima speaks of her dead husband and what he did with his wives. Admittedly, it isn’t an uncommon thing for a polygamus man, but Scorpius had wanted to tell Sedona. He did not want to keep anything from her.

"If you wake up tomorrow and find out she's dead, will you regret not trying to repair things?"

Scorpius says nothing. He looks away, down at the Oasis.

It’s true that Scorpius had wanted to be nothing like Seneca when it came to his mates and wives - but he had idolized the man. He had been a strong king, a good ruler even. He had ruled longer than any other, and defended Andal until he could not stand. He had raised Scorpius to be strong. But he had failed when it came to his wives, his family. He’d sired his heir, and a few spares, but Scorpius cannot remember a time the Miroslav patriarch had been a father to his children, a husband to his wives… Oh, he does not blame his father for his mother’s abandonment, her betrayal. That was not Seneca’s failing, and Scorpius would refuse to see otherwise. But Seneca had refused to change, sticking almost fearfully to tradition, using it to justify his actions. His failure had been in that, Scorpius realizes with a pit of dread in his stomach.

And he is exactly the same; he had all but said that to Sedona, clinging to tradition and his bloodline’s ways, demanding she accept it. Sedona, who was nothing like the meek women who favored the old ways, who would bow and accept marriage on his terms. She is Sedona Casales, who lived and breathed to defy expectation. She was not some princess - she is his wife, his queen.

And he had lost her.

No, Scorpius says, his voice thick. You’re not obnoxious. I need you - you and Leonie. You’re the only two that are brave enough to tell me when I’m an idiot.

Septima Miroslav would never have dreamed of speaking in such a way to her father. She would never have thought herself worthy of advising a king older and more experienced with life. It would have been easier to wash her hands of the situation and allow Scorpius to flounder on his own, but the one thing she has learned throughout her short life is that if she didn't try to keep her family together, it would disintegrate. The older generations had failed time and time again, and now that she was the eldest Miroslav in the area, she felt duty-bound to be everything they had never been.

"Yes, you are. You'll do the fighting when it comes down to it, but you saw how handling that by himself went for father. I can help you with alliances, I can help make betrothals. Let me shoulder some of the weight, Scorpius." She has never thought so highly of herself to ever ask that much from anyone before, but she craves purpose in the wake of her husband's death.

Septima's lips press into a thin line. "I can offer myself to marry a Savante instead if you think they would not feel slighted." The eldest son for the eldest daughter. "It's what I was raised to do. Finding Rome was an accident, but he's gone now and.." she doesn't think she'll ever find love like him again.

The Miroslav shifts her weight slightly, withdrawing a paw beneath her chest.

"I've seen the way Sedona looks at you; she loves you. She wants to help you, too, just like me and Leo. You made her your queen, your support, your backbone - and she'll be all those things if you show her that her voice has some weight. I don't think it was the fact you accepted a betrothal or intend to take wives, because like you said, it's not something you've kept secret from her. I think maybe she just wanted some heads-up, maybe to meet the woman first. Love is complicated, but it's worth it. You don't need to sacrifice your marriage for my safety, or my children's safety, or Léonie's safety. We'd rather you be happy because we love you, too." Septima lowers her head to plant a kiss on his forehead, not caring if she musses his mane in the process.

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Scorpius Miroslav has never shared well. He has never had to, and now he isn’t sure he can, even when the offer comes from a place of love. Septima means well, but Scorpius cannot see himself without the burden, the responsibility, of leading their family. Even if he never imagined being only two years old when the mantle became his.

No - the boy says quickly, turning to look at his sister from the corner of his eye. What brother would force his widowed sister to marry again, especially so soon? Would their father have expected that? No. Your children need you right now.

Besides, if not to protect and keep his family safe and out of marriages they do not want, what good is he? Especially now.

Sedona left, Septima. Scorpius sighs into her kiss, lips twisting into a grimace. She left. She told me not to follow her. How she used to look at me doesn’t matter - you didn’t see her before, when I - when I begged her not to leave. She hates me. The memory makes something hot and ugly burn under his skin. His pride has been wounded, and it still bleeds, but somehow the pain of loss is stronger. Red eyes tear away, so he can avoid his sister’s gaze. She said no. She said - she made her feelings known.

“You did not do this for me. You did this for you. You did this because you are scared.”

He leans on Septima’s shoulder. Maybe I am just like father. Maybe we’re not supposed to be happy.

Her children needed her, but what about what she needed? Septima didn't want to sit around and wallow in misery. She didn't want to be useless, again, and simply sit holed up in her den, the Miroslav widow whose only contribution to the family was giving birth. Her silvery fur ruffled in the wind as she dropped her gaze to the earth, feeling the weight of his gentle rejection with the brotherly love tucked behind it. Septima understood why, and to some extent agreed, but she didn't want to be reasonable. She didn't want to think logically or consider anything but her own selfish little heart, smashed by the man she loved so dearly through no fault of his own. Life was cruel. Septima knew that. She had witnessed it far too many times to ever delude herself into thinking otherwise, but she still fought against it like a fussy toddler that hadn't gotten her way.. because she hadn't. Where was her happily ever after? Where was her husband? Where was everything her life held the promise to be?

"Stop it, Scorpius," she chided softly, shaking her head. "You're convincing yourself of that because you're hurt, but I guarantee she doesn't want to end things. I'd put my life in it." Whatever that was worth, her pathetic excuse for what barely passed as a life. The lioness looked at her brother as he leaned against her, clearly seeking reassurance that she wasn't sure how to give. Septima shifted. "I don't believe that. We just can't make the same mistakes as him– and Sedona isn't a mistake. Give her time to feel her feelings and you should do the same. Feel all of it, no matter how much it hurts. Feel it and then calm down, then approach each other again to discuss. Rome and I, we were.. we were partners in the end. He married Asteria without telling me, he married me without telling Asteria. It broke my trust in him, but we repaired it. It took time and it took effort, but we made decisions together. It made me feel important, feel loved, respected." Septima felt the vacancy of her husband now more than ever, but she did her best to stay strong. She had to. It was her duty.

"Sedona loves you and when you love somebody, you don't give up on them. She's not finished with you yet, Scorpios Miroslav, and if you want to keep her as a wife I recommend you go after her. It's what I would want." She shrugged a bit sheepishly, embarrassed to admit she would ever have such a silly thought.

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You cannot undo years of expectation thrust upon a child’s shoulders overnight, and so Scorpius merely nods in agreement to comfort @Septima, to make her feel that she will - can - help him. Ultimately, that responsibility will always be his. And he cannot fail. He cannot.

What would he be, if he did?

Weak. Failure. Unworthy.

Scorpius wishes he could argue that their father did not trample anyone, that he was a good king that protected what he earned and was perfect. But he cannot. Seneca Miroslav was just a man, not the god-king Scorpius had seen him as since he was a cub. He was not perfect - he was not even good. A great king, a skilled warrior… imperfect. Still better than the son on his throne now.

He didn’t just betroth himself. He fucked other women, he knocked them up, he married others… Neither of them could guess how many siblings they might have, in and out of Amaryllis. He never seemed to care what they thought. I cared - I didn't want that. I just… He never thought Sedona would. If Seneca’s wives had an issue, they never voiced it. Or they went and got pregnant with the Mire King, then acted like a victim.

I’ve known her almost my entire life, and I never thought about asking her how she felt about marriage. He had assumed her expectations, and his own. He had ruined it all. Scorpius’s great head shakes, and he shifts uncomfortably. This is all… too much for a boy-king inexperienced in life.

It’s late, he reminds his sister, a gentle request to be left to himself. Can I - we should talk tomorrow.

Septima worries for him, but at the same time she knows there is nothing she can do to help him. He is capable of making his own decisions, good or not, and at the end of the day she is simply a woman. The Miroslav has always known her place is below men; even Vesuvia had bowed her head to them and who is she to think herself any greater than her aunt? It's foolish. Septima understands that she should not try to overstep, but she has to try. Not for his sake, but her own. She craves purpose lest she fall back into the depths of despair as she had when the rest of her family had gone and the pieces of her soul were scattered to the wind.

When Rome had put her back together.

Ah, she is being dismissed in the kindest of ways. Septima wants to argue that she should stay, but it isn't for his own sake. She is lonely - horribly lonely - and does not want to return to her cold marital bed alone. Septima bites the inside of her cheek uncomfortably, but who is she to refuse her patriarch's request? So instead of protesting, she simply offers a weak smile and nods. "Yes, of course, you know where I'll be." If he sincerely wants to speak with her, he need not look too far beyond what now feels like her tomb.

Septima steps up to her younger brother and kisses his forehead, ignoring the size difference as best she can. "Good night. Get some rest." She knows he won't, but it's her sisterly duty to encourage it anyway. The lioness lingers for only a moment longer before retreating back to her den, doing her best to ignore the fading scent of her dead husband as she walks across the threshold.

exit

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In a few hours, there would be a challenger sneaking into the territory. Scorpius would watch from where he lay now, and in the fight Septima’s words would come back to him. It would put everything into perspective, it would weaken his pride and his ego.

But for now, he allows Septima to kiss him in that loving, motherly way and he takes comfort in her unwavering loyalty and support. He watches her go, thankful for her, pained that he cannot help her as she helped him. He cannot bring back the dead. He cannot fix her broken heart. But he could die for her, fight for her. His family is all he has; he would sacrifice everything for them. In a few hours, that would be put to the test.

Exit.