My eyes grew heavy and I drifted into a deep sleep. And just as I had expected, he came.
The air changed first. It grew colder, heavier somehow, as though the room had drawn in a quiet breath and refused to release it.
Then, the mattress sank slowly beside me.
Why is he on my bed? My breath caught in my throat.
He was closer than he had ever been before. I could feel the weight of his hard chest pressing on my back. The quiet presence of him lingering just behind my shoulder.
My heart began to beat faster, though I did not know whether it was fear or something far more troubling.
He leaned nearer, and his voice brushed against my ear like a music. "Turn around." It was not so loud. Yet it carried a terrifying command.
I obeyed without hesitation, meeting the fire of his red eyes.
We stared at each other so long that my heart ached painfully in my chester. And when i could not bear it anymore. Finally, I asked, "Are you not going to say anything?"
His eyes turned thinner, and I could tell he was smiling.
Slowly, his hand lifted, brushing the hair from my face, his feather like touch was gentle, yet possessive.
For a moment, I thought he would only stare, just as he always did. But I was wrong.
At last, he spoke. "My beloved… if I say nothing, it is only because I am trying to gather myself, for you have a way of stealing my composure."
My breath caught in my throat. Did he… just say that to me? He had never spoken this much before.
My cheeks burned as his words sank into me, heat crawling up my neck and settling deep in my chest. I could barely meet his eyes, yet I could not look away.
"I… I…" My voice faltered, caught in my throat, before his finger pressed softly against my lips.
"Shh… You do not need to utter a word," he murmured, and my heart thundered violently in my chest, each beat echoing like a drum in the quiet room.
"Why… why did you bite me?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, reckless and trembling.
What if he was angry? What if I had crossed some unspoken line?
He stared at me for what felt like forever. At last he spoke. "Rest, My beloved. Let the darkness cradle you…" he whispered.
I jerked upright breathless looking around the space, and I realized morning had already came.
For what felt like an eternity, I remained seated upon my bed, unmoving. My heart still beat as though it had narrowly escaped some dreadful fate, refusing to quiet itself despite the golden innocence of daylight.
Why did he not answer my question? I could not point out why he did that.
I pressed my fingers lightly to my temples and sighed, then run a weary hand through my red hair.
The chamber looked so ordinary and familiar in the morning glow… and yet, I could not shake the lingering echo of his voice.
After some time, I rose and made myself ready for the day. When at last I stepped out of my room, the comforting scent of brewed tea and fresh linen greeted me.
Mother sat near the window, her embroidery frame resting gracefully upon her lap, her nimble fingers guiding the thread through fine cloth.
The sunlight caught in her hair, making the red shine even more brightly.
When she saw me, her face brightened at once. "You are awake? Come here, my dear." There was such warmth in her voice that my heart eased despite itself.
I crossed the small room and lowered myself beside her. She set aside her embroidery and drew me gently into her side, her arm wrapping around my shoulders. I rested my head against her, breathing in her familiar scent.
"You look pale," she murmured, brushing her hand tenderly over my hair. "Did sleep refuse you?"
"It was only the thought of tonight," I said quietly. "Nothing more."
She studied me for a moment but did not press further. Instead, her expression brightened with something like pleased anticipation.
"I spoke with your uncle yesterday," she began.
I lifted my head slightly. "Uncle?"
She nodded. "He has agreed to rent us a carriage for the ball."
I blinked in surprise and sat upright. "He wishes to rent Father's carriage to us?" The words left me sharper than I intended. "He took it from us without mercy… and now he would rent our own carriage back to us? And you agreed, Mama?"
Silence wrapped around us for a moment.
"My child," Kaira said softly, "there are battles one does not win by pride alone."
"But it was Father's," I insisted, my voice lowering though the ache within it did not. "He had no right."
She reached for my hand then, her fingers cool as they enclosed mine. "You are right," she admitted, and there was no denial in her tone. "He had no right. But what is done is done. The carriage would have rotted where it stood had he not taken it. At least now it remains whole."
Her thumb brushed gently across my knuckles. "And tonight," she continued, "it shall carry his daughter to her first ball. Perhaps that is something your father would have wished."
The anger within me faltered as tears welled up in my eyes.
I lowered my gaze, swallowing the tightness in my throat that refused to loosen. It was not the carriage that wounded me. It was the memory of how easily it had been taken from us as though Father's absence had stripped us of more than his presence, as though once he was gone, everything that bore his name no longer belonged to us.
Although I did not know him and could not even recognize his face in a crowd, I knew him by heart. I knew him in the quiet strength Mother carried, in the stories whispered on colder nights, in the few belongings we guarded as though they were sacred jewels. I cherished everything he left behind. Including Mother.
And that was what hurt the most. For even as I sat beside her, feeling the warmth of her hand around mine, I knew I would not remain. I will reunite with him… and she will remain here. All alone.
The thought settled over me like winter frost, gentle but merciless. How cruel it is to love someone you are destined to abandon.
"And the fee?" I asked quietly. "How are we to pay him?"
Mother offered a faint, dignified smile. "Your uncle has agreed to accept it in portions. We shall manage."
We shall manage? How I wish I could believe that.
I nodded and did not ponder any longer.