confusion
As I weave my way through the crowd, my pulse quickens. Jude wouldn't just leave without telling me something.
Unless she had a reason. A reason she didn't want to say out loud.
The music shifts, the air thick with perfume and whispers, but all I can focus on is the gnawing unease settling in my stomach. Jude maybe saw something. Or someone.
I move faster, scanning the edges of the ballroom, searching for any sign of her. My dress brushes against the polished floor as I slip past nobles in gilded masks and creatures with sharp smiles. My thoughts race through possibilities—was she following someone? Is she in danger?
Then, just as I near the doors leading to the palace chambers, I catch a flicker of movement, a shadow slipping through the archway, disappearing into the darkness.
I don't hesitate.
I step into the long dark corridor, lit only by the moonlight coming from the large windows on the side. The scent of jasmine thick around me, the distant murmur of conversation fades as I press slowly forward.
"Jude?"
I call, voice hushed but urgent.
No answer.
I continue walking, my footsteps soft against the stone floor. I’ve never been a fan of the dark, but the adrenaline coursing through my body, the thought that my friend could be in danger, is stronger than any fear I might feel. The corridor stretches ahead, its shadows deepening as I move further from the light.
Soon, it splits into two narrower hallways, both swallowed by complete darkness. Even if I wanted to venture down one, I wouldn’t be able to see a thing. I have nothing with me to generate light, no way to pierce the blackness.
I’m about to turn back when I hear it: a faint noise, like something falling to the floor, coming from the hallway on the right. My breath catches.
Unable to see, I rely on touch, tracing the cold stone wall with my hand as I move forward. My pace is slow, deliberate, each step as silent as I can make it.
Another noise, closer this time. My pulse quickens. Then, a dim light spills from a partially open door ahead. I approach cautiously, my heart pounding in my chest. The door is ajar, and someone is speaking in a low voice, almost whispering.
I freeze, my mind racing. I realize I’m in the area dedicated to private rooms. This could be someone’s chamber. I shouldn’t be here.
But then I hear Nicasia’s voice, and my concern overrides my hesitation.
“I hope you’re satisfied now”
Nicasia says, her tone low and edged with something I can’t quite place.
“Satisfied? You asked me”
Jude replies, her voice tense but controlled.
I move closer to the crack in the door, my alarm growing. This can’t be good. I know how much Nicasia despises Jude, and the feeling is mutual. Through the narrow opening, I see Nicasia leaning against a small desk attached to the wall, her posture relaxed but her expression sharp. Jude must be standing in front of her, but I can’t see her from this angle.
“And you certainly didn’t hold back.”
Nicasia says, a mocking smile playing on her lips.
“If it makes you feel better to think that I was the one who had the idea, then go ahead”
Jude replies, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of frustration.
“But you were the one who called me here.”
“I didn’t think you’d say yes”
Nicasia says, leaning even further back on the desk, her movements languid and deliberate.
“Again.”
My mind races. What are they talking about? This can’t be the first time they’ve met like this. But why?
“You always say the same thing” Jude says, taking a step closer.
“When you always know how it’s going to end.”
I catch a glimpse of Jude now, and something about her looks… off.
Her hair, which had been meticulously styled earlier, is disheveled, one of the decorative horns completely missing. Did they have some kind of argument? But that wouldn’t explain the calm tone of their conversation now.
“Jude, don’t be angry with me”
Nicasia says, her voice softening as she places a hand on Jude’s hip, pulling her closer. My breath catches in my throat.
“Or do”
Nicasia continues, her voice dropping to a low, seductive sound.
“I like your kisses even more when you’re furious.”
A moment later, I see them kiss, and I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle my gasp.
My eyes widen in shock, my mind struggling to process what I’m seeing. Jude and Nicasia? This can’t be real. But it is.
The way they move together, the way Nicasia’s fingers curl into Jude’s hair—it’s undeniable.
I force myself to stay silent, to not make a sound. I need to leave. Now.
Gathering every ounce of self-control I have, I carefully retrace my steps, my movements slow to avoid drawing attention.
I'm not even in shock, really. It’s the sheer absurdity of it. The sheer impossibility.
Jude hates Nicasia. Nicasia hates Jude. They’ve made that clear enough. And yet, what I just saw was—
I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the image.
I need to get back. I need to act normal. My mind is a whirlwind of questions, but I push them aside, focusing on getting out of here without being seen.
When I finally reach the safety of the main hall, I lean against the wall, my breath coming in shallow gasps. How long has this been going on? And why didn’t Jude tell me?
I glance around, my thoughts racing.
The noise of the party feels distant, muffled, as if I’m moving through a dream. I need to find Kiki and Taryn, to ground myself in something familiar, but before I can reach them, a voice cuts through the haze.
“Lilia!”
I turn to see Locke approaching, his smile smooth and inviting. Not exactly the best timing to speak with him, but I don’t have much of a choice. He weaves through the crowd with an effortless grace, his movements as fluid as a fox’s. When he reaches me, he tilts his head, his hazel eyes gleaming with amusement.
“I’m glad I found you”
he says, his voice warm and velvety.
“Were you looking for me?”
I ask, confused. Why would he be seeking me out?
“I was hoping to ask you something”
he says, his tone light.
I raise an eyebrow, wary but curious. “What is it?”
“I’m hosting a gathering at my estate in the next weeks”
he says, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret.
“Nothing too formal, just a few friends, some music, good wine. I’d like for you to come.”
The invitation catches me off guard. I don’t know Locke well, not really. Jude and Taryn say he's not so bad, and he was nice for the brief moments we talked, but that’s all I know. He’s Cardan’s friend, more or less. To me, he’s just another one of them, charming and potentially dangerous in equal measure.
I shake my head, my instincts screaming at me to be cautious.
“I don’t think so” I say
Locke tilts his head, considering me with amusement. He doesn’t seem annoyed, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes.
“No?”
he asks, his tone light but with an edge.
“I don’t really know you”
I say, my voice steady.
His lips curve slightly, as if I’ve just told him something deeply entertaining.
“And what better way to change that?”
He gestures vaguely, his sleeve slipping back just enough to reveal a bracelet of delicate, intertwining silver. It looks like something meant to ensnare rather than simply adorn.
“I’m just not in the habit of going to strangers’ houses” I say, my tone firm.
Locke hums, his gaze flicking over me like he’s measuring something I can’t see.
“How terribly cautious”
he says, his voice soft but with a hint of mockery.
His smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it grows wider, as if my refusal was expected.
“Come on”
he says, his tone light and teasing.
“It’s just a party. What’s the harm in that? I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself.”
I try to avoid his last statement.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I had hoped to think we were already becoming friends”
his voice is gentle, almost soothing.
“I do know some of your friends”
I reply, my tone decisive.
“I don’t think I fit into that category.”
He tilts his head, his expression softening into something almost sympathetic.
“I understand. Trust doesn’t come easily, especially here. But I’m not asking you to trust me completely. Just give me a chance to show you that not all of us are as terrible as you think.”
His words are smooth, practiced, and for a moment, I almost believe him. But then I remember Talia’s warnings, the way she always tells me to be careful, to never let my guard down. I shake my head again.
“I still don’t think this is a good idea” I repeat.
Locke doesn’t seem discouraged. If anything, he looks even more determined.
“What if I told you your friends could come too?”
he says, his voice dropping slightly, as if he’s offering me a gift.
I blink, surprised. Jude and Taryn? He knows them far better than he knows me. Why wouldn’t he have invited them first?
“Wouldn’t they already be invited?” I ask, my tone skeptical.
“I thought it would be nice to extend the invitation to you first”
he says, his smile never wavering.
“Of course, I am going to invite them” he adds
“but it felt like a shame not to extend the invitation personally. You seemed hesitant; I thought perhaps a familiar presence might put you at ease.”
It’s a good answer. A reasonable one. His explanation makes sense, but something about it feels off. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but the way he’s looking at me, like he’s waiting for me to agree, like he already knows I will—makes me uneasy. He’s not saying he invited them already. He’s saying that now that I’ve hesitated, he’s found a way to make it harder for me to say no.
And it’s working.
“I’ll think about it” I say finally, my voice cautious.
“But I can’t promise anything.”
Locke’s smile widens, and for a moment, I feel like I’ve just stepped into a trap. But then he nods, his expression kind and understanding.
“That’s all I can ask for” he says.
“I’ll be happy to hear if you change your mind.”
He reaches out, his hand brushing mine lightly, and I feel a strange warmth spread through me. It’s not magic, I’m wearing the rowan berries after all, but something about his touch feels… warm. I pull my hand away, trying to ignore the way my heart is racing.
“I’ll let you know” I say, my voice firm this time.
Locke nods again, his smile never wavering, and then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd like a shadow.
By the time I return to where Kiki and Taryn are, now in another corner of the room conversing, I’ve forced my expression into something carefully unreadable. The noise of the party, the music, the laughter, all of it comes rushing back at me, a stark contrast to the secret I now carry about my friend.
“There you are”
Kiki says, her face lighting up with relief.
“Did you find her?”
My lips part, but for once, I don’t know what to say. I had a phrase in my head, a way to deflect, but the words stick in my throat.
“I—”
I fake a cough, buying myself a moment.
“I met Locke”
I say finally, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.
“Yes?”
Taryn says immediately, her interest piqued. I knew she would take the bait.
“What did he say to you?”
“Nothing much, actually”
I say, my voice casual but my mind racing.
“He said—”
“Who said what?”
Jude’s voice cuts through the air like a blade.
I turn to see her stepping out from the crowd as if she’s been here all along, her appearance is back to how it was when we arrived, and not messy like in that room with...
Her expression cool, unreadable. If I hadn’t seen her just moments ago, I would have believed it. But now, her calm demeanor feels like a mask.
“Who were you talking about?”
she asks, glancing between us.
I swallow, trying not to let anything slip.
“No one” I say, forcing a smile.
“It wasn’t all that interesting.”
Jude holds my gaze for a moment too long, her dark eyes searching mine as if she knows there’s more to what I’m saying. But she doesn’t push. And I don’t dare ask her in front of everyone.
“Where have you been?”
Taryn asks Jude, her tone light but with an edge of curiosity.
“I didn’t see you when I got here.”
Jude barely hesitates.
“I was just stepping out for some air”
she says smoothly, her voice even.
“It got a little stifling in here.”
She’s lying. I know it. I wonder if Taryn can tell too, but she just nods, seemingly accepting the answer. Kiki, on the other hand, tilts her head slightly, studying Jude with mild curiosity.
“You missed a lot”
Taryn tells her, oblivious to the tension simmering between us.
“Lili danced with the prince, for one.”
Jude’s gaze snaps to me, her brows raising just a fraction, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes.
“Yes, I saw that. How was it?”
I roll my eyes. Did she actually see me while she was leaving the room?
“It was just a dance” I say, my tone dismissive.
Jude hums in response, but there’s something knowing in her expression.
“Was it weird dancing with him? Did Kiki have to go and stop your feet?”
Kiki frowns, but says nothing.
For a split second, I think about asking her outright—about Nicasia, about what I saw. But I don’t.
Instead, I force a casual shrug.
“Well, he didn’t win twice tonight, if that makes you feel any better.”
That earns me a small smirk from her.
“Be careful, or he’ll think he has to get used to it.”
The music shifts, and I use it as an excuse to break the moment, turning my attention to the rest of the room. I need to talk to Jude, but this isn’t the place to do that. Not with Taryn and Kiki here.
We talk for a while, but as the night goes the dances have gotten intense, the music changing at least five times, and my head is starting to feel heavy. The noise, the laughter, the constant movements around me, it’s all too much. I need air.
Now I understand why Jude used that as an excuse.
I walk over to Kiki and lean in close to her ear.
“I’m stepping outside for a bit” I say, my voice low.
“I need some air.”
She nods, her expression concerned but understanding.
“Don’t go away for too long” she says, her tone gentle.
Jude and Taryn seem engrossed in a conversation, but Jude notices as I walk away. Her eyes flick to me, sharp and questioning, but she doesn’t say anything.
I step outside, and the cold night air hits me like pins on my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the room I just left. I take a deep breath, the crisp air filling my lungs, and for a moment, I feel like I can think clearly again.
The gardens are quiet, the only sounds the distant hum of the party and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. I walk a little further, my footsteps soft against the stone path, until I find a secluded spot near a fountain. The water glimmers in the moonlight, and I sit on the edge, letting the coolness of the stone seep into my skin.
After some time I get up, and walk until I reach a small garden tucked away from the main path, its center dominated by a stone bench surrounded by a high wooden wall. The wall rises at least two meters, enclosing the space like a secret. I step inside, the cool night air brushing against my skin, and I walk to the back of bench, wrapping my arms around myself to ward off the chill. The music from the party is muffled here, distant, and the silence of the garden is a stark contrast. For a moment, I savor it, letting the quiet settle over me like a blanket.
Then I hear footsteps. Soft, light.
“Missing me already?”
I say, laughing softly.
I turn, expecting to see Kiki or one of my friends.
Cardan leans against the wooden archway. The faint torchlight from the palace barely reaches him, casting shadows that make his already sharp features even sharper. His eyes, now golden because of the dark, flick over me, lingering just long enough to make my pulse quicken.
"You flatter yourself"
he says tilting his head, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"Perhaps I simply wanted some air as well."
he adds, his voice low.
“And of all the places where you could have done it, you chose this one.”
“I was actually planning on coming here from the start of the evening” his voice is weirdly soothing.
“You’re the one who stole my place.”
“But you just got here.” I point it out.
“Doesn’t change the fact that I had it in mind from the beginning”
I already know where he’s going with this, but I don’t feel like arguing. I came here for some quiet.
“Well then” I say, my voice tired already
“I’ll leave you to your peace.”
I step toward him, intending to walk past and return to the party.
Cardan shifts, blocking my way just as I attempt to step past him. His movements are lazy, effortless, but there’s no mistaking the intention behind them.
“I didn’t say you had to leave.”
His voice is low, smooth as velvet.
I stop, eyes narrowing.
“I thought you wanted to be alone.”
He smirks. “I didn't say that either.”
There's something in the way he's looking at me right now. The space between us feels unbearably small, charged with something heavy, electric. The air is crisp, but the heat radiating from him, from us, is almost suffocating. My pulse thrums wildly in my throat as his gaze drops, tracing over me with lazy amusement, lingering at my lips just a second too long.
For a moment, we just stare at each other, the silence between us thick.
Then, without warning, he reaches out, his hand brushing against my arm as I try to pass through. The touch is light, almost casual. I stop, my breath catching in my throat, and turn to face him.
“What are you doing?”
I ask, my voice coming out sharper than intended.
Cardan doesn’t respond, not with words. Instead, he steps closer, his dark eyes searching mine. Then his gaze drops to my lips again, and the air between us shifts once more.
His hand slides up my arm, his touch sending sparks through me, until his fingers brush against the side of my neck. His thumb traces the line of my jaw, and I feel my breath hitch, my heart pounding in my chest. His touch is deliberate, slow, as if savoring the moment, as if testing just how far I’ll let this go. I tilt my head up, just a fraction, my breath catching when our noses almost graze.
He leans in, just slightly, just enough for me to feel the warmth of his breath against my skin.
I should move, I should push him away, but I don’t. Instead, I stand there, my chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, my hands curling into fists to keep from reaching for him first.
“Your Highness-”
I breathe, a warning or a plea—I don’t even know anymore.
His lips curl at the sound of me calling him, and in the next heartbeat, he’s kissing me.
His hands are on me, one gripping my waist, the other threading into my hair as he backs me against the wooden wall, pressing against me with just enough force to steal the breath from my lungs. The heat of him seeping through the fabric of my dress, and I feel my knees go weak. My fingers curl into the fabric of his coat. It’s not soft. It’s not hesitant. It’s a claiming.
His lips are soft. The taste of him is intoxicating, heady, sweet, and I melt into him, letting myself drown in the heat of his mouth, the way he moves against me like he’s been waiting for this. His teeth graze my bottom lip, teasing, and a small, frustrated sound escapes me.
“Tell me to stop” he murmurs between kisses, voice barely audible. It's more like a request.
I part my lips, trying to form the words, but nothing comes out. I don’t want him to stop.
His lips are now soft but demanding, his touch both gentle and possessive, and I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything.
One of his hands moves to the small of my back, pulling me even closer, while the other cups my cheek, his thumb brushing against my skin in a way that makes my breath catch. His lips trail from my mouth to my jaw, then down to the sensitive spot just below my ear, and I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair.
When we finally break apart, both of us are breathless. My lips feel swollen, tingling with the ghost of his kiss, my pulse erratic, wild in my veins. I pull my head back, resting it on the wall behind me, chest rising and falling with the force of my breathing.
Cardan looks at me as if he wants to devour me. The hand that was gripping my waist twitches, as if he’s fighting the urge to reach for me again.
For a moment, I think he's going to say something. But he doesn’t. His gaze flickers over my face, lingering on my lips, before he exhales sharply, as if he's just made a decision he doesn’t like.
Then he steps back.
The loss of his touch is immediate, an ache I wasn’t prepared for. His hands, once possessive, fall away from me like leaves shaken from a branch. The spell between us fractures, splintering into the cold night air.
I stay there, pinned against the wall, my breath shallow, my heart hammering so hard I swear he must hear it.
Cardan doesn’t speak. He doesn’t smirk. He just watches me.
Then, without another word, he turns and disappears into the shadows, swallowed by the night as if he was never here to begin with.
I stand there, dazed, disoriented.
My legs feel weak, my body thrumming with an energy I don’t know what to do with. The cold air brushes against my skin, cooling the heat that still lingers where his hands had been.
I press my palms against the cool wall, grounding myself as I try to make sense of it all.
I can’t help but wonder if he’s as shaken as I am. What was that? A moment of weakness?
I take another deep breath, the crisp night air filling my lungs, and push off the wall.
My head hurts even more than before, damn him.