Book Two: The Larkspur's Longing ~ A tale of deep obsession and devotion

Chapter Twenty-Five: Window

Several hours later, as the room basked in the soft, ethereal glow of the moonlight, Callidus began to stir from his slumber. He blinked blearily, his senses slowly returning to him, only to realize that the warmth and weight of Cressida's body were no longer nestled against him.

Frantically, he sat up, his mind immediately awake with worst-case scenarios. Had something happened to her while he slept? (Had she escaped?) His thoughts spiraled into a frenzy, and he prepared to rip the palace to pieces in order to find her.

Thin light streamed in through the open curtains, casting long, eerie shadows across the room. And then, he saw her - Cressida standing by the window, her silhouette stark against the pale glow of the night.

Callidus's heart leapt into his throat, and without a second thought, an intense wind, an unbridled gale, roared to life, swirling around the room with force. The tempest swept through the chamber, seizing his lover from her place by the window, propelling her across the room and into his arms where she belonged.

Cressida let out a blood-curdling scream as she was lifted off her feet and hurled through the air, her terror evident in her wide, startled eyes. It was only when she landed safely in his embrace that her initial shock gave way to fury.

"Callidus!?" she shrieked, "Why the-Lady's mantle! Why?! Why did you do that?!"

"...Cressida, my Cressida," Callidus clutched her tightly, his own heart pounding in his chest as the whirlwind gradually subsided. He buried his face in her hair, his voice trembling with relief and worry. "Cressida, you know I hate it when you stand by the window like that."

"I was just looking outside!" she exclaimed, irate. "You could have called out to me!"

Cressida's anger was palpable, and Callidus could feel it coursing through her as she struggled to free herself from his grip. "Cressida, I woke up and you were gone..."

"That's no excuse to scare me to death!"

Callidus held Cressida even closer, his fear and anxiety slowly giving way to guilt and regret. "I know," he murmured, "I'm sorry, my love. I didn't think. I was just...afraid."

Cressida sighed, her anger slightly tempering as she reluctantly relaxed her head against his chest. "I don't understand why you still live in this tower, Callidus," she mumbled, her tone softening, "This place has so many bad memories for you."

Callidus didn't have a proper explanation, so he just held her tighter. "...why did you leave my side?"

She lifted her head up to stare at him, and he saw a flicker of annoyance cross her face, "I just wanted to look at the moon. I was trying to figure out how long we slept."

"...I see," he sighed, before muttering with a hint of his own annoyance, "...when you are sleeping, I never let go."

Her mouth popped open. "Callidus, are you... are you mad that I left you for two seconds?"

"...I'd prefer for you not to leave me at all," he confirmed darkly.

Cressida's irritation flared once more, and she abruptly pulled away from Callidus's embrace, sitting up on the bed. "Callidus, that's ridiculous. I can't be tethered to you every second of the day and night."

Callidus briefly considered the thought, finding it a pleasant concept. His eyes darted down to her wrist, and he wondered if he could maintain a subtle air current around her in his sleep. It was something he used to do around himself when on campaign.

Cressida crossed her arms and glared at him, "Callidus, I didn't say that to give you ideas."

Callidus blinked, his gaze shifting from her wrist to meet her eyes. "Cressida, I...I realize you might think I am being...excessive, but I hate being separated from you."