The Dragon's Match

XIV

XIV

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Aëghan came across her later that afternoon when the sun had just begun to set. He hadn't actively sought her out, yet his steps had led him to a part of his abode where he felt that she lingered.

A preternatural tug had guided him to her and he was helpless to follow it, as if his body was once more compelled by sheer instinct alone.

It was one of his galleries- a truly impressive room, even he was able to admit it. His collections were displayed prominently against the vast, tapestried walls that intertwined with the boughs and vines of various flora that grew predominantly around the ruins. The gallery was vast, stretching from one end of the chamber to the other, and great arching windows ran down the length of one wall intermittently, providing ample natural light when the sun chose to reveal itself, and a view of the flourishing courtyard beyond.

Lillian was sitting delicately on one of the many benches lining the chamber, her chin tilted up towards a painting she was studying or admiring. She was alone, dressed in the same attire she had been in the day prior, and he noted that his scarf sat snugly entwined about her neck. Seeing her coveting the piece of clothing that belonged to him filled him with an overwhelming sense of pride, that his scent lingered against her flesh, that something that was intrinsically his lay against the soft skin of her neck. She was turned away from him and he had entered the gallery silently, pausing on the threshold at the sight of her, therefore she had not been alerted to his presence yet.

Aëghan afforded himself the opportunity to linger yet and admire her as she sat unaware and unguarded. Her long legs were crossed, her hands loosely folded in her lap, and a cup of tea was beside her on the bench. Her long hair was braided as usual to sit over her left shoulder, stray wisps fanning her face softly.

An unfamiliar ache took root in the vicinity of his heart at how poignantly lovely she looked in the fading light, long shadows stretching across the marble floors as the rain pelted away at the glass panes of the windows behind her. He did not wish to disturb her or make her aware of his presence, knowing full well that she would immediately put up her barriers against him were she to realise he was near, and rather found himself longing to continue to observe her so uninhibited for as long as possible.

That is until Miss Felicity made an unceremonious hacking noise somewhere about his ankles.

Lillian's head swivelled in his direction suddenly, her vivid eyes wide and clashing with his gaze, before she stiffened her shoulders and slid her gaze down his body, to the feline that was making wretched noises by his boots.

Her pert nose wrinkled in distaste upon noticing the cat. "That creature needs a bathe," she pointed out softly. As he predicted, her exterior became coolly composed at noticing his presence and he lamented it.

Aëghan moved forward into the chamber further until he stopped beside her, the cat in his wake and rubbing her length across the boots he wore, studying the same painting Lillian had been admiring prior to his arrival. "Leonidas at Thermompylae," Aëghan remarked, somewhat surprised, and cocked a wry brow at her. "An admirer of Jacques-Louis David, or..."

A wonderful blush coloured her cheeks at the insinuation inflecting his tone and Lillian looked remarkably uncomfortable at having been caught scrutinizing a rather revealing painting of the human form. Her fingers twisted together in her lap and she averted her gaze from his to glare at them. "You have an impressive collection," she told him instead, her voice a soft husk that made him warm inexplicably. "A curator's dream. How did you come by it?"