Lilian awoke with the sun already high in the sky, its warm rays spilling over her face. She stretched languidly, a quiet exhilaration thrumming through her body. She could still feel the phantom touch of Cassius's hands guiding her, still smell the faint, lingering trace of him on her skin—a scent of cool mint, ancient moss from deep forests, and a subtle hint of wine, as though he carried Pandomurus itself within him.
As she rolled onto her side, she realised, somewhat startled, that she was in her own bed, not the settee where she last remembered being. The memory of being carried stirred something soft and glowing within her.
Refreshed, Lilian dressed swiftly and stepped out in search of breakfast—only to nearly collide with Cassius just beyond her door.
"Good morning, Cassius," she greeted him brightly, her face alight with joy.
"Good morning, Lilian," he returned, a smile playing at his lips, though his voice remained carefully measured. Still, the gleam in his eyes betrayed his pleasure at seeing her.
"Did you have a productive night?" she asked, falling into step beside him, a few inches of space between them that still seemed charged with energy.
"Mostly," Cassius replied, running a hand through his hair in an unguarded gesture. "I did manage some rest, enough that I can postpone further sleep and see to my duties." His gaze drifted down to the golden halo of her hair, now illuminated fully in the morning light. "And you? What do you plan for the day?"
"I thought to learn more about your subjects—the clans and families of note. I would like to prepare myself for the ball, to understand better those who will attend."
Cassius gave her a look of quiet admiration. "It is thoughtful of you to consider such things. I will gather some of the older archives for you."
"Thank you, Cassius." Her smile grew even brighter.
They took breakfast together in the smaller dining room, Lilian animatedly recounting the novel she was currently reading. Cassius listened with interest, mentally noting the title and author, committing the details to memory.
When Lilian at last set down her cutlery, she found Cassius already finished with his meal, his attention wholly fixed on her.
"Perhaps a walk?" he suggested, his voice low, his gaze unwavering.
"You mentioned your sensitivity to light…" Lilian hesitated, concern furrowing her brow.
"There are enough shaded paths," Cassius assured her. "Besides, a little sun will not harm me."
Her face softened with relief. "Then I would be most glad to accompany you. It is a beautiful morning."
Together they set out, Lilian stealing occasional glances at Cassius as they walked, noting anew the chiseled symmetry of his features.
Cassius, for his part, admired the sight of her beside him—dressed in a gown of soft violet, her hair braided into a crown that framed her gentle face. He led her through the gardens, around the outer courts of the castle, and beyond the fringes where orchard met forest.
At a low, weathered fence, he paused to unlatch the gate, motioning her through with a quiet smile. Lilian stepped forward eagerly, her attention more on Cassius than on the field stretching beyond.
As they strolled, Lilian cheerfully peppered him with facts about the flowers at their feet. Her voice a bright counterpoint to the stillness of the field. Cassius listened, charmed by her enthusiasm, leading her gently onward toward something more hidden.
When Lilian finally caught sight of it, she stopped abruptly, her breath stolen away.
"I thought you might find this place fascinating," Cassius said, a note of pride in his voice as he watched her wonder-struck expression.
"What are these ruins?" Lilian asked, staring at the tall, crumbling remains of a building lost to time. She had not glimpsed them from any window of the castle nor from the gardens she had explored; they were hidden away from sight.
"No one truly knows," Cassius answered, moving forward. "It is older than any kingdom. I always believed it must have been a cathedral, perhaps a place of worship. See the dome, the arches…"
One entire wall had fallen away, and most of the ceiling with it, but three walls still stood, and a portion of the dome remained, bearing a circular oculus that opened to the sky. Beneath the open dome, an ancient oak stretched its branches upward, straining toward the light.
Cassius offered Lilian his hand to steady her as she stepped over rubble into the ruins. She took it without hesitation, her eyes wide with reverent awe.
"This is fascinating," she whispered, as though speaking too loudly might disturb the spirits of the place.
"I used to fear it as a boy," Cassius admitted, his voice low. "But later, the mystery drew me in. I spent years exploring it, hoping to uncover its secrets."
Lilian wandered beneath the fractured arches, her steps soft, her hand trailing along the stone. Her fingers brushed against a raised platform hidden beneath years of dust and moss.
"Are there no records of this place?" she asked.
Cassius shook his head with a smile. "None that I could find. Intriguing, isn't it?"
"Very." Her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I will have to search your library for anything on ancient civilisations."
"I searched far and wide," Cassius replied, amused by her determination.
Lilian tilted her head, studying the dome. "The oculus is positioned strangely, set closer to one end. I wonder if this was once an altar." She tapped the stone platform with the toe of her boot. "The earth may have shifted over time."
"I had not considered that," Cassius mused, watching her with growing admiration.
"How many ghosts do you suppose haunt this place?" Lilian asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Likely a fair few," Cassius chuckled. "It would explain the nighttime creaking around the castle."
"To be fair," Lilian added with a teasing smile, "if I were a ghost, I would be furious to see a vampire—a creature defying death itself—trespassing here."
Cassius threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and genuine.
"Being a vampire must be the worstest," Lilian went on with mock solemnity. "The living resent you for not being alive enough, and the dead for not being dead enough."
"And what do you think?" he asked, leaning casually against a stone wall, arms folded as he watched her intently.
"Neither." Lilian shrugged, turning to meet his gaze. "You are what you are. There's no changing it. And truthfully… you fascinate me. Your kind seems to defy reason itself—neither alive nor dead, yet more vivid than many who are."
Cassius's brow furrowed thoughtfully, a smile tugging at his mouth. "That is an interesting perspective. And I am pleased to be the subject of your amusement."
"It's only fair." Lilian grinned. "You amuse me; I return the favour." She paused, considering him. "What shall I do next to entertain you?"
"I have seen you sing, play, dance, and read poetry," Cassius said, pretending to ponder. "Perhaps tomorrow you could join me for a ride."
"A splendid idea." She stepped closer, her face alight. "For now, though, shall we return? I feel we have disturbed the peace here long enough. I would prefer not to be haunted tonight."
"A wise precaution," Cassius agreed, offering his arm.
Together they returned to the castle, laughter and conversation trailing behind them.
Cassius soon retreated to his study to complete a handful of letters before surrendering to rest, the memory of Lilian's smile lingering sweetly in his mind.