Lotor popped the collar on the tunic Naigus had suggested. It was his least favourite colour and made of rough fabric that reminded him of dead grass. He frowned at himself in the mirror.

His former mentor had opted for Lotor a high-necked, muddy tunic with a silver embroidered half-cape. The emblem was clearly a stylized version of the symbol for the galran throne. A floral pattern in the same silver that decorated the cape blossomed over Lotor's chest. It also contained subliminal connection to the empire. Solid brown trousers tucked into rich chestnut boots completed the outfit.

Memories of the last time he had dared to follow another culture's traditions crept to the forefront of his mind.

A harsh smack echoed through the empty conference room. "Get that foolish attire off! You're a disgrace."

Lotor massaged the red welt forming on his cheek. "I was offered to partake in their customary dress. It aided the decision making," he ground out.

"It accomplished nothing but to degrade your already forfeit blood," Zarkon spat venomously. "Get out of my site before I burn the clothes off your back."

It was a frivolous moment of rebellion on his part. Lotor had known the deed would earn him in the least a brutal session under his superiors. He had scathed by with only a bruised face.

You killed him. The acknowledgement was subtle yet clearly voiced within his mind. He didn't need to fear anymore, but taking the plunge was still terrifying. It went against all reflex, instinct, and habit, everything that had been driven into Lotor's soul since childhood. A sighed escaped his lips seconds before the door behind him chimed and opened with a whir.

Automatically, a confident smile plastered over his face and Lotor stood straighter. It was all habit, once again.

The princess smiled at him through the mirror. She had been quiet today, as if she knew his current emotional instability… As if she knew all that Naigus had to say to him this morning in order to calm him down. He was grateful for her openness. Even if he felt dwarfed by her poise in the face of such immense feelings.

I don't feel like myself. He was not accustomed to the silence in his own head. The same old thoughts were churning over each other with a nauseating repetitiveness. He forced the wheels to stop rolling and opened his mouth. "Allura," he greeted, turning around and taking her in. She was an ample diversion.

The princess was also dressed in Naigus-approved garb which consisted of pieces of her Voltron armour accentuated with a beige and gold embroidered sash. Her face was painted with dark brown ink in swirling windswept patterns and her hair was intricately braided. Stunning. He forced himself to inhale slowly. She was a marvellous distraction, indeed.

"You look different," she offered, flushing marginally at his reaction. Allura tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she clarified, "A good different."

Shot back into reality by her clear voice, Lotor raised an eyebrow. He looked down at himself uncertainly. "If you say so. Brown can be a nice colour." he replied sarcastically.

She giggled. It was infectious and he felt his own chuckle rise up against his depressive mood. "I think it suits you." She moved closer to him. He sensed the air between them electrify and he suddenly felt the urge to bolt out the door.

His feet remained solidified to the floor, nonetheless, as she touched him, reaching to his shoulders to arrange the stray locks framing his face. She met his gaze, silently asking permission.

Lotor unconsciously straightened his back and gave an imperceptible nod. He wanted her to stay close. Her soft fingers were so tender and so at odds with the strength they held. He tried to take in every single point of contact.

Allura attempted at conversation while her delicate fingers arranged his white mane out and around the tunic's high collar, "Tradition is important." She snorted. "Your hair is amazing, Lotor."

He barely found the presence to answer. Her smell overpowered him reminding the prince of a summer wind. How could one night change his entire perspective on the world? Thank the stars, his voice remained suave. "Thank you. You look magnificent yourself."

The corners of her mouth pulled up. Her hands rested over his shoulders and the smile faded into something tinged with sadness. "I never thought that through opening up to other cultures, I would find solidarity of my own."

Lotor resisted the need to swallow. The words were heavy and fell over his chest like a weight. "It is truly a sacred one."

She looked up into his eyes again. "Lotor, you surprise me," she admired.

He let her continue, feeling only a spark of concern. The prince focused on keeping his face impassive. How quickly he could fall into her beautiful eyes. The slightest wrinkles framing them only added to her beauty. He didn't remember those before…

"These last few weeks." She turned her head away. "I know I said this before, but I am seeing another side to this war. I am seeing it through you and…." She paused regaining the strength to meet his gaze. "I want to apologise for mistrusting you."

His stomach twisted violently. The sharp tang of bile rose in his throat as his mindset crashed hard. He heard his own voice starting, "Princess…"

She interrupted him. "I know you've done things here. I don't need to hear it. Just know, I trust you here. I'm not naïve to take everything you have said as full truth, but I trust you here, now."

The words were grossly steeped in contradiction. Somehow the hint of sharpness in them made them easier to hear. Lotor took her closer to him to hide the conflict waging over his face. "I only want peace," he said into her hair. Why can't I have it?

"I know." She squeezed him harder before pulling back to kiss his cheek softly then give him a half smile. "We can make a movement towards that peace today both for the universe and for ourselves," she comforted.