As much as I ever could

As much as Epiphron prided herself on being a realistic and level-headed, she couldn't help but feel vaguely disappointed. Had she really thought this would make everything okay? No, but she thought it would assuage the pain ever so slightly -- but if anything, it'd made it worst. Maverick was suffering as well, and it was obvious, despite the lack of emotion that he was displaying. Surely she hadn't been naive enough to think this would fix the situation they'd found themselves in; they both had duties far greater than this, far more important than the love that they shared. She vaguely wondered whether her father would've chosen Valhalla over Guinevere, but she found no answer, as hard as she searched for one. But in a way, this was different. She had no choice to make... it'd been made for her. She could fight the decision, but that would just make everything worse.

She should've listened to her brother. As soon as affection had begun to blossom, she should've quenched those feelings, rather than diving in headfirst, like a stupid lovesick child. Still she had felt hopeful, for something, perhaps for a future, but that had been an illusion. There was no way they could be together now, unless they both respectively left their packs and ran off together. But such things didn't really tend to happen -- the consequences would be far too dire for her to even dream of doing something so ridiculous.

"Goodbye..." She mumbled softly, not a declaration she was leaving, but something else. A laugh seemed to leave her throat, but the sound was filled with pain and heartache. It seemed silly to say goodbye when they would certainly be seeing one another again in the future. Perhaps often, if Chrysanthe bore Maverick's children. Epiphron would want to be part of their lives. The mere possibility made tears well in her eyes, despite how hard she struggled to fight them back. She felt irrevocably alone, and her strength seemed to drain from her body with each second she spent with Maverick.

If this was goodbye in a sense, it was so in a very particular way. From this moment on, they would see one another in an entirely different way -- or so she would have to try. They could never be friends. It would hurt too badly. Another whimper escaped the girl's throat, and she felt abruptly ashamed for being so pathetic. She'd only met Maverick a handful of times. It wasn't anything permanent. Neither of them had made any kind of commitment, despite their vocalized desire for one another. It wasn't a permanent goodbye, but this would signify the end to whatever relationship they had forged. When they met again, it would be as strangers, as nothing more.

Epiphron knew she shouldn't embrace the Seracian Prince, but her body's desires seemed to outweigh her better judgment. Swiftly the girl moved forward to him, her muzzle nudging beneath his throat. He seemed to have grown since they met. He would make an impressive King someday. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled his scent, knowing this was very likely the last time they would ever touch like this, or even make physical contact at all. He would belong to Chrysanthe, and Chrysanthe alone, and she knew that even by doing this she was in some way crossing a boundary, but she couldn't leave without a final embrace.

But letting Maverick press back into her would be too painful, and so she pulled away quickly and attempted to maintain some semblance of composure. Never had she failed so miserably at anything in her entire life; the tears had fallen down her cheeks and her ears were flattened against her skull in embarrassment and unsureness and pain and every emotion in between.