Cassius followed the hallway that curved around the castle, already having been discreetly directed toward Lilian's whereabouts.
His heart stirred in anticipation as he stepped into the ballroom. There, in the center of the vast chamber, stood Lilian—her gaze turned upward, entranced by the painted ceiling.
Her golden hair fell freely down her back, catching the soft candlelight that reflected off the polished floors. Her eyes sparkled with wonder, wholly absorbed in the splendour above her.
Cassius approached quietly, not wanting to startle her. She didn't turn at the sound of his footsteps, but she smiled, fully aware of his presence.
"Good evening, Cassius," she said, her voice warm.
"Good evening, Lilian," he replied, returning her smile. For a fleeting moment, the weight of his thoughts and nightmares slipped from his shoulders. "What brings you here?"
"You mentioned a ball, a few days ago. I wanted to see the ballroom myself… and I was taken aback by the sheer beauty of it. The paintings, the sculptures, the chandeliers. Everything. I can only imagine how breathtaking it must be when filled with music and dancing and distinguished guests."
Cassius glanced around the vast room and nodded. "It's meant to show splendour. It is a ballroom, after all."
"I've never attended a ball, so I can only speak for this room, but it feels… magical," Lilian said, her eyes finding his. "Are there traditional dances expected to be performed?"
He met her gaze, intrigued by her curiosity. "I am not certain how they would differ from those in Elderwood," he said thoughtfully, then extended a hand. "May I?"
Lilian arched a brow in slight amusement but placed her hand in his. Cassius gently pulled her closer, resting one hand on her shoulder blade and lifting their joined hands to shoulder height. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, ready.
"The first step: you move your right foot back as I step forward," he instructed gently.
He led her into the rhythm, each movement measured and fluid. Lilian was light on her feet, graceful, attentive—quick to follow his guidance.
Cassius was acutely aware of their closeness. Her shoulder blade beneath his palm. Her hand, so small and warm in his. He looked down, captivated by the way her eyes glowed in the low light. Lilian looked up at him in return, her gaze steady, luminous.
They danced to the echo of their own footsteps, with their bodies moving in perfect synergy across the marble floor.
When they finally slowed to a stop, both were slightly breathless—not from the dance itself, but from the intensity that lingered between them, thrumming under the surface.
Cassius stepped back, bowing. Lilian curtsied in return, a flush rising to her cheeks.
"Thank you for being an extraordinary dance teacher," she said softly.
"And thank you for being an exemplary student," Cassius replied with a faint smile. "Perhaps it's time we see to our dinner."
Lilian nodded, and together they left the ballroom side by side.
During the meal, she animatedly described her day—the marvel of the ballroom, the grandeur of the throne room bathed in daylight, and the gallery where she admired paintings of landscapes and portraits that had taken her breath away. Cassius listened with genuine interest, his expression softening with every excited detail she offered.
Toward the end of the dinner, an unwelcome thought tugged at him: the coming parting for the night. He did not want to let go of Lilian's presence yet.
"What will you do after dinner?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"I planned to finish reading a book," Lilian said.
"Would you care to join me in the drawing room? I'll light a fire—you can read in comfort."
"I would be most honoured, Cassius," Lilian said, her smile blooming.
After dinner, she left briefly to retrieve her book, while Cassius gathered parchment and ink for the letters he needed to draft. They settled into the drawing room together, each immersed in their task, sharing the space in a companionable silence.
Cassius smiled whenever he caught her holding her breath at a plot twist. Lilian, in turn, glanced at him when he furrowed his brow in concentration over his correspondence.
The fire crackled gently, its warmth radiating through the room. The sound of pages turning and quill scratching against parchment soon lulled Lilian into sleep. Before she knew it, her head rested against the settee, eyes closed, breathing slow.
Cassius didn't mind. On the contrary—this, he thought, was as close to peace as he had come in a long time.
He finished his final letter and set the parchment aside before approaching her. Gently, he gathered her into his arms. She shifted slightly but did not wake, her face nestling against the crook of his arm.
She was light, delicate, soft against him. In that moment, Cassius felt a fierce protectiveness rise within him.
He carried her to her room, laid her carefully on her bed, removed her shoes, and pulled the duvet over her. His hand lingered on her cheek for a moment before he stepped back. The moonlight cast silver across the floor as he watched over her one last time.
That night, Cassius dreamed once again—only this time, there was no darkness, no decay. There was only the echo of a dance and the memory of Lilian's smile.
And when he woke, it was to the unmistakable feeling of love—pure, overwhelming, and quietly consuming.