Chapter Text
CHAPTER ONE
Year 859: Rosalith
Joshua Rosfield couldn't keep from fidgeting as his mother's ladies-in-waiting tended to him, decorating him in the Duchy's finest fabrics and gems. Anabella was far too eager to flaunt her youngest and most precious son to the eyes of the attending kingdoms. There, they would behold the prized jewel of their Dukedom – the undying future and the Eikon that proudly blazed through the blood of her family.
He need only look and be at his very best, exactly as she directed.
Joshua, on the other hand, hardly reciprocated such a notion.
Being the young Dominant of the Phoenix had been a constant and ongoing reminder to him since he had awakened to its glorious powers as but a babe. Because of it, he was destined to someday become the very ruler of Rosaria. He was expected to be strong and bold, automatically revered simply for having the Phoenix within him. It needn't matter who Joshua was. All most saw was the mystical bird of rebirth within. He'd grown with that fact etched into his mind. But no matter how deeply others attempted to carve it deep into the recesses of his being, Joshua couldn't comprehend the reason why.
Why had the Eikon chosen him?
His current predicament was but only a painful reminder to that unending question...
The event he was being so utterly pampered for was, more or less, absolutely petrifying. Not only was he to meet the rulers of both the mighty Empire of Sanbreque and the wealthy Republic of Dhalmekia, but he was also expected to make Prince Dion's acquaintance and join him in exchanging cultural treasures in a show of goodwill between their realms.
The pressure was suffocating him as badly as his uncomfortably formal clothes right then...
Despite being the same age, stories of Dion's courage and grace had already begun to weave their way into both fable and ballad. He was diligent. Brazen. Generous and kind to his country fellows.
Basically, he was a saint.
In comparison, Joshua was nothing but an ill little boy who could rarely leave the castle's walls without catching a chill...
He couldn't hold a candle to the prince of dragons – the Dominant of Bahamut. How was he to stand with him in a union between their countries when he felt anything but equal next to such a brilliant light?
When he feared he might begin heaving for breath, Joshua was immediately calmed at the sight of his elder brother as he gently opened the door to Joshua's bedchambers. Clive then quietly slinked his way inside. The ladies-in-waiting paid him no mind, their thoughts perhaps wandering to the reality that Duchess Anabella would be irritated by his presence. Still, they were unwilling to involve themselves by speaking out against the young Lord all the same.
“You look stunning, Joshua,” Clive began softly, flashing Joshua an encouraging smile, “So far so good, you look nothing short of Phoenix's Dominant, I'd say.”
It hardly helped that he was dressed in the Phoenix's passionate shade of fire-red – his sleeves and tailcoat reminiscent of the mystical bird's dazzling tail feathers. The colours made his complexion glow, the compassion of the Phoenix's healing light noteworthy in Joshua's already warm and gentle features.
Joshua felt like he could breathe again. “Clive!” he called his brother's name airily, his facial features each brightening as his eyes eagerly chased him. “Oh, Clive, I'm so pleased you're here!”
“As am I,” Clive winked, “It wasn't possible that I pass up the opportunity to steal the first glance of my brother in his ceremonial garments, after all.”
Joshua's head dipped slightly at the instant reminder, his hands returning to clasping for one another where he stood. The ladies-in-waiting completed the finishing touches, performing a curtsy before silently leaving the brothers to their conversation.
“...Do you think he'll like me?” Joshua asked in a murmur so quiet that it was barely even a breath.
It was a miracle that Clive had even heard it.
Yet, the older was quick to glide to Joshua's side, a supportive hand finding its way to Joshua's shoulder. “Who?” Clive's eyebrows creased, “The Republic? Sanbreque's Emperor?”
Joshua lightly shook his head from side to side, unable to meet his brother's eyes as he admitted, voice cracking somewhat, “...The crown prince.”
Clive's mouth turned up into a sheepish smile as he released an affectionate chuckle. His fingers found their way to Joshua's back so that they could rub soothing circles into it. “Josh... it would be absurd for him not to. He'll adore you. They all will. I guarantee it.”
At that, Clive ended his string of softly spoken words with a fond pump of his fist over Joshua's heart. It was an affectionate gesture they'd shared for as long as Joshua could remember.
Clive's encouragement may not have made him any less nervous about the affair, but (as usual) he'd managed to lift the younger's spirits. "You think so?" he hopefully chirped, finally catching Clive's reassuring gaze.
“No, Joshua – I know so.”
With that, he clapped the younger's back and urged him towards the doorway. It wouldn't be much longer now before his presence would be expected in the great hall downstairs.
Both the Imperials and the Dhalmekians had arrived in Rosalith a day or so beforehand, but they'd had a night of rest before the Remembrance Ceremony was to officially begin. Their land of eternal flame and rebirth was roughly located between the two visiting countries – making Rosaria the easiest point for all three to convene in accord with their newfound coalition.
Joshua swallowed thickly as they prepared to leave the safe haven that was his chambers. But just as they neared the doorway, it swung open with a haughty push – a mere inch away from scraping the tips of their very noses. Clive instinctively went to pull Joshua back, but he quickly froze when his mother's cold gaze landed upon him as she entered with a discontented breath.
“What are you doing in here?” she spoke as icily as she stared before quickly turning her attention to her younger son. “Joshua, you're supposed to be getting ready!” she chastised, “Today's ceremony is far too important for you to be dawdling here with those beneath you. Now come! The guests have already begun to assemble downstairs.”
She grabbed for Joshua's wrist, tugging him by the arm as if he were a rag doll. He opened his mouth to protest but ended up scrambling for what to say instead - desperately peering back at Clive.
It took every fibre in Clive's being from reaching for him in return, or from parting his lips in an attempt to chide her about being more gentle with the younger. More tolerant and tender. However, how could he bring himself to badmouth her when all he'd ever yearned for was her love?
Instead, all he could do was helplessly watch as they disappeared down the hallway, ever leaving him behind in the chill that lingered even after her withdrawal.
- - -
Joshua's chest tightened again, his mind reeling in an incoherent panic as Anabella dragged him through the bustling great hall. Their chatter was deafening and the passing faces were unrecognizable. The majority of them were lavishly dressed adults, each partaking in glasses of wine and dull conversation. As he passed them, however, he could feel their eyes following him. It didn't take long for the whispers to reach him, each hushed 'it's the Phoenix' making him ball his fist ever tighter.
Finally, Joshua felt a brief sense of comfort once he caught sight of his father's face among the many. Elwin, too, was already sipping fine drink, his attention focused on the man who stood beside him. The stranger looked important, his clothes even more extravagant than those Joshua had witnessed in the sea of formal wear.
Joshua's attention, however, soon drifted to the boy who stood at the opulent man's side. He was the only other child Joshua had seen, and yet the boy seemed to carry himself with an air that Joshua couldn't fully comprehend.
He could only conclude that this boy was none other than the famed Prince Dion. Between his dauntless demeanour and the pearl and teal overcoat that was embellished with scale-like patterns across its gorgeous surface, the boy couldn't be any other.
Like the man before Elwin (who must have been Prince Dion's father, the Emperor), Prince Dion, too, had platinum blonde hair. Though unlike his father, Dion's shade was a tad warmer. Joshua couldn't keep from noting how it matched his skin tone. He wasn't pale, but healthily tanned – which only told of the Prince's long days of training beneath the glaring sunlight as he worked to sharpen his spear hand.
In comparison, Joshua could only pray that he didn't appear too undesirably pale from his most recent bout with illness.
Dion must have felt Joshua's curious eyes on him, because as Elwin, Anabella and the Emperor began their exchanges, Dion's gaze suddenly flickered to him and their eyes met.
Joshua's breath caught in his chest, and it was only when he noticed the warmth within Dion's honey-brown depths that he could feel his heart start back up within his chest. Among the chatting adults, they remained silent until coaxed to do otherwise. But until then, Joshua found it within himself to share a small and shy quirk of his lips with the other. He was deeply comforted when Dion returned the gesture, though his smile was far more charming. It was perfection expected and typical of a prince.
It was only once his mother's sharp voice was directed at him that Joshua's attention was abruptly redirected. His head snapped to peer up at her, a silent gasp leaving his slightly parted lips. "Y-yes, mother?" he blurted out, not having processed a word she'd said – not through his captivation of the prince before him.
“I said that it would be an opportune time for you to introduce yourself. You stand before the Emperor of Sanbreque, as well as his son – the crown prince.” She turned to Emperor Sylvester. “I apologize for his absentmindedness, your Eminence,” Anabella clutched at Joshua's shoulders, feigning sympathy despite how uncomfortably her nails dug into him. “He's recently overcome an ailment, you see. He's still a bit weary.”
“I shall pay it no mind,” Sylvester said, looking Joshua up and down with discerning eyes. His gaze wasn't cold, but it wasn't exactly warm, either. Not like his son's was. Joshua couldn't keep from shrinking slightly beneath it. “It bodes well that the boy is recovering, at least.”
Joshua bowed politely in response, albeit a tad hastily beneath the glower of his mother. “It's an honour to be in your presence, your Eminence. I am Joshua Rosfield, second son of the Archduke and Archduchess and Dominant of the undying Phoenix. I find your concern most heartening, but I assure you – my health fairs far better now.”
“Glad to hear it,” Dion chimed in from where he continued to stand proudly next to his father. He offered his hand out for Joshua in greeting. “It elates me to finally meet you and your esteemed family, Phoenix. I am Dion Lesage – the crown prince of Sanbreque, blessed with the wings of the mighty Bahamut.”
Joshua took Dion's hand thoughtfully, impressed by his strong and resolute grip.
Elwin nudged his son subtly at that, lightly reminding him, "Do you not have a gift you wish to bestow upon his Highness?"
Joshua jumped slightly at that, automatically reaching for the velvet pouch that sat safely in the pocket of his tailcoat. He fished it out, gladly presenting it to the other with a sweet smile. “As a gesture of goodwill between our countries and in our desire to keep relations intact for the future, I – the heir to Rosaria's Dukedom – humbly offer you this gift I had personally prepared in the crown prince's honour.”
Anabella nodded her head, pleased.
“I gratefully accept such gracious a token,” Dion thoughtfully took the elegantly tied pouch from Joshua's outstretched hands. “I, too, hope that the Phoenix may relish in the same. For I, too, have a I gift. I anticipate it may be to your liking.”
In response to his received gift, Dion offered Joshua his own.
Of course, Joshua had expected such. It was more or less customary during these sorts of ceremonies. Yet, he found himself elated at the thought of owning something which Dion had picked out for him.
Tentatively, he reached for it – insistent on containing his excitement and remaining pleasantly reserved. Carefully, he unfolded the cloth in which it had been bound – revealing the beautifully crafted blade underneath. Its sheath was decorated with a string of glistening gems, each sparkling the teal blue of the Empire.
A custom-made imperial dagger.
“It's exquisite,” Joshua beamed up at him, “The craftsmanship is lovely.”
The Empire was well known for its mines, each more bountiful than the next. Joshua had heard tales of the beauty that could be forged through such an abundance of minerals and gems, but never had he witnessed it firsthand.
Dion seemed pleased, noting before turning to his own gift, "It is made of Mythril and a rare light shard, so you should find it extremely lightweight and effortless to handle. But also, it is durable with a blade that shall never dull. It pleases me that it is to your satisfaction."
Joshua nodded before admiring it once again.
He couldn't say that the resources put into his gift were quite so exceptionally rare. But Joshua had also had it made with Dion in mind, seeking only the most talented craftsman in all of the duchy.
They were a pair of silver earrings whose shape had been inspired only by Rosaria's very own crest. Embedded in each were gems as crimson as the Phoenix itself.
Joshua couldn't keep from thinking to himself that they would pair quite well with the prince's warm, honey-tinged eyes.
Joshua was elated when Dion seemed just as charmed by the gift as he'd been with his own. As soon as he laid that gaze upon them, he instantly went to remove his current earrings in order to replace them with the gifted ones.
“They're divine,” Dion said, flashing that perfect smile once again.
After the formal exchange, Joshua could only hope that he and Dion might have time to become properly acquainted with one another – minus the presence of the adults. But no, instead they were urged by their parents to take part in a bit of dancing.
Joshua couldn't keep his face from falling somewhat, disappointment seeping into his veins as Dion was ushered off with a noblewoman who desired to share a dance with him. According to his mother, many sought the very same from Joshua.
His nerves kicked back in at that, especially upon realizing that many of the women present were particularly older. Both their experience and overall height far exceeded his own. It was awkward to keep up with their steps, and he couldn't keep from glancing over at Dion – impressed that he didn't seem to be stumbling in the least despite being just slightly taller than himself.
Like any child born into nobility, Joshua had taken part in dancing lessons, yes, but it had never been quite as overwhelming as the real thing. It was catching brief glances of Dion, Jill and Clive every now and again that kept him from panicking altogether.
Once the night approached, and the adults were several glasses into their wine, Dion made it apparent that he was just as uncomfortable with the whole ordeal.
After his most current dance had finally ended, he politely declined any further advances and easily slipped his way through the crowd toward the burnt-out Phoenix. By that point, Joshua's nerves were already completely shot.
So when Dion suddenly snatched him by the hand, it was an understatement to consider the poor boy startled.
Believing it to be yet another act of seduction from some strange woman, Joshua couldn't keep from breathing in a sharp gasp. He twirled around, spooked. But it seemed the action had further spooked the Phoenix within considering Joshua's restrained hand reflexively erupted into searing flames, a frenzied attempt to escape imprisonment.
Joshua's green eyes widened in alarm as he caught sight of the young prince Dion, who was quickly pulling his hand away – a pained hiss slipping from between his lips.
Joshua's heart sank.
“I-I'm so sorry!” Joshua tugged his hand to his chest tightly, cursing himself for reacting so instinctively, if only for a moment. Sad eyes searched the hand that Dion clasped firmly with his other. Joshua could see the edges of Dion's fingertips, bright red and visibly burnt. “I-”
Not only would his mother have his head for causing harm to the crown prince, but worse yet, Joshua's kind heart seeped with despair. He'd hoped to make a friend of Dion... Yet, he'd only managed to make a mess of it all. His eyes burned, and he blinked away tears, swallowing thickly as he searched the crowd mistily.
“...Clive,” he breathed out his brother's name in a small, strained voice – fiercely wishing that his brother might swoop in and save him.
The Phoenix's flames had caused him pain, yet Dion didn't hesitate to grab for Joshua's hand yet again – this time with an urge of desperation behind the sheer force of it.
Joshua blinked out of his flustered daze, brows furrowing as Dion tugged him through the crowd, feeding him unexpected words of comfort. "Don't fret, for I recognize it was not done in malice. Besides, it can hardly be considered a wound. 'Tis but a trifle. Think nothing of it."
“But-” Joshua sniffled, only to have the prince reassure him further.
“Let us focus solely on retreating from this place.”
Joshua couldn't argue with that.
Their parents were too occupied with their drinks and company to notice as the two children escaped the great hall and made their way out into Rosaria's gardens. The night air was refreshing to their lungs, its gentle breeze swaying soothingly through their light locks of blonde and strawberry-blonde hair. It was comforting compared to the stuffiness of the bustling party within.
“I apologize for rushing you,” Dion eventually spoke, sounding a bit sheepish, “But it was far too suffocating. I couldn't withstand it for another moment.”
Joshua turned to him, nodding silently. He couldn't disagree. If anything, he was gladdened by the fact that Dion thought to bring him along.
In the darkness of the garden, he could barely make out Dion's face as he spoke. It was habit to him, something he tended to do automatically when surrounded by shadows. Attuning to his powers, he summoned a small, crackling flame that floated above them. It emitted just enough firelight to touch their initial area.
He hadn't thought anything of it, and yet Dion's mouth gaped open and his gaze brightened.
“That's a wonderful trick!” he cried out, clearly impressed, “I hadn't ever thought to do that. I commend you on your creativity. I would be ever in your debt if you could perhaps teach me, Phoenix?”
Joshua's cheeks flushed.
The prince was dazzled by him? He wanted guidance? From him?
“I-I could do that...”
It didn't take very long for Dion to pick up on it. He was an incredibly fast learner, manifesting an orb of light after only a few attempts.
Joshua clapped his hands together gleefully, adoring the soothing ball of light magic. It was beautiful. That, and far brighter than even his flames.
“You're brilliant at teaching,” Dion noted. He hesitated before asking the next bit. “...Do you ever think about a life... outside of the Duchy? One where you might lead a life of your own? If you were not to be an Archduke, I believe your patience and benevolence would make you a wonderful scholar.”
Joshua pressed his lips together tightly at that. For as long as he could remember, he'd wished he could be anything but the Phoenix. He simply wasn't built for it.
Reluctantly, he nodded. “...I suppose. At times, I can't help but feel as if the castle is one large cage.”
Most times, when Joshua wanted to leave its walls, he wasn't permitted to. With both his status and his health the way it was, his mother would often confine him there. He'd become a master at slinking away, uncaring of the fuss his mother might make. If it meant he could spend more time with Clive and Jill, then he'd do anything...
"Mine, as well," Dion quietly admitted. Joshua hadn't expected such. Not when Dion seemed so overly perfect on the outside. Who knew that they might have so much more in common than he initially thought? "I believed I might grow to tolerate them as time went on, but these sorts of events are so stifling. Too often does my father press courtship upon me. I've tried to speak with my father... to insist that I... I'm different.”
Joshua blinked, “Different?” If the prince trusted him enough to vent, then he was more than happy to listen. He could only gently encourage him. “But you've already accomplished so much, even at this age. Is your father not incredibly proud of you?”
Dion peered down at the ground, his gaze hard as he shrugged lightly. “Perhaps...” he murmured, almost sadly, “But it rarely feels that he truly listens. He shakes off my words like they mean nothing, simply replying that I may come to feel differently once I am of age.”
Joshua frowned, watching as Dion's hand seemed to absentmindedly trace the edges of the flower corsage that Dion wore at his breast. It must have been a flower unique to Sanbreque, as Joshua had never seen one quite like it before.
With his head finally having a chance to clear in the cool air, Joshua turned to the other, the scent of stonawort flowers carried on the wind. Through the shadows, he peered again at Dion's scalded fingertips. “Give me your right hand,” he commanded softly.
Dion searched Joshua's face for a moment, slowly obeying.
Underneath the cover of their dim, magical light, it wasn't noticeable, but Dion's skin became dusted in delicate pink as he felt Joshua's warm and tender touch envelop him.
There were a few tales and myths that told of the Phoenix's miraculous abilities. But the most modern ones stemmed from Phoenix's prior Dominant – of how the Phoenix had brought the Northern Territories to its inevitable knees.
Such claims made the Phoenix out to be destructive and perhaps even fearsome. But Dion saw none of that in the current Dominant. Instead, he was stirred by Joshua's compassion and the calming glow that emanated from his hand right then. Unlike the flames that had singed him, these tickled Dion's skin and warmed his very bones. Like a comforting firelight that followed after enduring a deep, endless cold. He could have melted into a puddle right then and there, a trail of delicate tears running across his cheeks as he did so.
“You're like an angel...” he just barely voiced those thoughts aloud.
Thank Greagor Joshua hadn't quite caught them, all too focused on healing the wounds that he had inflicted in the first place.
“Sorry?” Joshua looked up, green orbs softening.
But Dion merely shook his head, fighting away the heat that continued to bombard his face. He managed to escape it only once the healing glow faded, instead replaced with an unpleasantly violent and wet cough. Joshua hunched over at the force of it, his balled hand habitually raising to his mouth in an attempt to suppress it.
Dion's eyes widened and he rushed to Joshua's side, placing a careful hand on the other's back. He could feel the vibrations of the brutal attack through his skin and could have sworn that he caught a glance of the tiniest traces of blood splatter at Joshua's feet.
“Good Greagor, are you alright!?” Dion's heart spiked, “Come, allow me to aid you in sitting down.”
Dion knew of the curse associated with being a Dominant. Great power came at great cost, after all. He hadn't yet Primed, nor relied on Bahamut's majestic abilities – only to a minor extent. So he'd never suffered much penalty in accordance with his Eikon... Nor had he observed it firsthand.
But it wasn't as if Joshua had used any more than a simple fragment of its power... right? Or did healing even just minor wounds exhaust more energy than expected? Or was it related to the fact that Joshua had only just recently recovered from some form of sickness?
Puzzled and concerned, Dion ushered Joshua over to the shallow stairway that led back into the castle's interior. He sat him down upon its steps, rubbing his back until the last of the coughing subsided.
Joshua sucked in the night air deeply.
“...I'm sorry for worrying you,” he said breathlessly.
“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” Dion assured him, “If anything, I am indebted to you.” He paused before carefully asking, “Does using the Phoenix's restorative abilities always cause you such pain?”
Joshua peered down into his lap, his hands frustratingly curling around the fabric of his clothes. "...My constitution simply isn't meant for something as illustrious as an Eikon. I am ill more often than not if I'm being honest..." He sighed. "I wish I was as strong as you are, Prince Dion. I admire you. You and my brother, both."
Dion thought to himself for a moment before sincerely replying. "You are stronger than you realize. Ills or not, you still push yourself forward despite them. I value your benevolence. Your kindness and softhearted nature. You selflessly chose to rid me of a meagre lesion, knowing too well that each use of your abilities puts your health at risk. You must give yourself the credit you deserve, Phoenix."
Joshua didn't know what to say in return. He couldn't say that he completely believed in each word said, but all the while, the thought that Dion might believe those things himself made Joshua's lips quirk upwards slightly. It was as if Dion's very tone had merged with his blood, sending doses of comfort through his veins before ebbing its way to his beating heart.
“Treating my burn was only part of it,” Dion continued when he realized that Joshua was going to remain silent, “But I also appreciate you for listening to me so openly. It isn't often that I meet one with whom I can trust with my thoughts and feelings. It has meant much to me, and I wish to reply to your kindness with a small offering. I only pray you may accept it.”
Joshua watched as Dion delicately removed the corsage from his overcoat. “This is my favourite species of flower native to Sanbreque,” he began, twirling it in his hand before charmingly offering it to the other. “It's called a Wyvern Tail, and I often tend to bring one with me wherever I go, especially when I leave my country. It feels as if I bring a sentiment of both home and my people along with me when I do.
“If that's the case, then I couldn't possibly have you part with it,” Joshua raised his hands between them, shaking them in urgency, “Not when it's so important to you!”
But Dion wouldn't relent.
“Please, I insist you take it. I would want nothing more.”
The hand holding the Wyvern Tail refused to lower, and each second made Joshua's uncertainty crumble. Reluctantly, he accepted the flower between his fingers, adoring its elegance with a soft smile before slowly beginning to scoot closer to Dion.
Before Dion could question what it was Joshua intended, the strawberry-blonde had already moved in close enough to lean in and fondly press his lips to the prince's cheek.
“You're incredibly sweet, Prince Dion,” Joshua smiled tenderly as he withdrew.
Dion's mind reeled.
Or to be more precise, it had been shattered.
His thoughts lost sense, his pulse hammered against his ribs wildly, and his skin burst into a vivid shade of crimson. No words were capable of escaping his mouth, his lips merely opening and closing like a fish out of water.
He was extremely thankful when he was saved by the approaching voice of another.
“Oh, thank the Founder, there you are!”
Both boys turned their heads behind them to see Clive Rosfield making his way from between the entrance doors, a sliver of light from the partially open doorway highlighting him – making him appear only as a silhouette.
“Clive,” Joshua greeted him.
Clive placed his hands on his hips, "I've been looking for you everywhere. You're lucky that father and mother haven't noticed your absence. They would have sent every Shield out to find the both of you. It would have been a disaster."
Dion and Joshua exchanged sheepish looks before chuckling amongst one another. It wasn't as if they wished to cause trouble for their parents. Yet, neither could exactly regret the precious moments of bonding that they'd shared in those gardens. It was extremely brief but oh-so meaningful.
“Glad to see you both find this all so amusing,” Clive raised an eyebrow, “But I'm here to drag you back inside before anyone else notices. You wouldn't want mother to give you an earful now, would you, Joshua?” He smirked. “Or worse – deny you of dessert.”
Joshua jumped up from where he sat, dusting off his clothes, “Now that sounds horrible." He offered a hand to Dion, who hesitated slightly as a flashback to what had recently happened struck him. "Shall we, Prince Dion?"
Dion swallowed thickly, pulling himself up as he tried to ignore just how soft and warm Joshua's hand felt in his own. “Indeed,” he managed, “It seems that would be wise after our brief respite.”
They turned to disappear back into the depths of the castle, but Joshua suddenly came to an abrupt halt once they slipped through the door. Clive had walked slightly ahead, and so Joshua took the opportunity to murmur, “May I make a request of you? Would it fair well with you if we were to keep all that happened tonight a secret only we share?”
It would become a headache if his mother were to fuss over his use of the Phoenix's abilities. That, and it would remain a special, personal moment that only they would ever know of.
Dion carefully took hold of Joshua's hand, bringing it to his lips in oath.
“You have my word, Phoenix. It will remain between only us.”