AURELIA
He watched me like I was already his.
Not just a passing interest. Not hunger. Not lust. No, Kaelith watched me like he had already decided how I would end, and he was simply savoring the steps it would take to get there.
And I let him.
I wasn't supposed to. I came here with a plan. Stay quiet. Blend in. Gather information and get close enough to cut him if I had to. That was the mission. That was what I told the others. But plans only worked when you didn't want to be caught.
He spoke to me like he saw every twisted thing I tried to hide. He stepped into my world without permission and took a seat like it belonged to him. And somehow, I wanted him there.
I told myself I could handle it.
But I hadn't known what it would feel like to be seen. Not the version of me I carefully shaped for this court. Not the softness. Not the innocence. The real thing. The ugly, cracked thing hiding under the skin.
I didn't know what it would feel like to crave being caught. To want him to tear me apart piece by piece just to see what was underneath.
And now I couldn't stop.
I spent the next day pretending.
Smiling when nobles passed me. Sitting through the court's performance of civility. Answering questions with sweet tones and wide eyes. Letting them believe I was overwhelmed by the palace, by its darkness, by its power. Letting them underestimate me.
But I felt him long before I saw him.
Kaelith never moved like a man who needed to be seen. He walked in silence. And yet the air shifted every time he entered a space. Like even the shadows bent to follow him.
I glanced up from the scroll in my hands as he entered the library. Not a word. Not a glance. Just his presence crashing into mine like a tidal wave that left nothing untouched.
I lowered my eyes again.
I waited.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
He stood behind me for five long minutes, reading over my shoulder. I let him. My heartbeat was steady. Too steady. I knew he was testing me. I wanted him to.
"You like books," he finally said.
"Books don't lie," I replied.
"They do," he said. "The best ones always do."
His voice was quieter today. Like a threat wrapped in silk. I turned slightly in my seat, just enough to meet his eyes.
"I suppose I like good lies, then."
Kaelith smiled.
Not the kind you give strangers. Not polite or pleasant. This one was real. Slow. Dangerous. Like the calm that came before a blade sank between your ribs.
"You will," he said. "Eventually."
I should have been afraid. I should have flinched. I should have run.
Instead, I felt something stir low in my stomach. Something sharp and hungry.
He left without another word.
I sat still long after he was gone, fingers curled tightly around the edge of the scroll. I didn't even remember what I had been reading.
All I could think about was him.
And how badly I wanted him to break me open just to see what bled out.