XVIII
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
There was a brief moment sometime before dawn when Lillian awakened. Silence and dim light shrouded her, amplified by the intermittent droplets of rain that clung and fell from the leaves outside in soothing abandon as a gentle reminder of the torrential downpour of the evening prior.
A deep sigh brought her attention to the male that she was pressed against and she started for it, tilting her head back slightly to study the face so achingly close to hers. She quickly ascertained that the sound he had emitted was made from the recesses of his sleep. She had remained in his arms, tucked against his chest and under his chin while they slept, and her leg was wedged between his. The intimacy of their embrace was not lost on her and she considered it carefully for several long moments, torn between lurching away from him in embarrassment or remaining yet in his embrace for a few hours more.
She couldn't recall when she had fallen asleep, but somehow she had, feeling entirely too comfortable with him. After the evening they had shared, she should feel like withdrawing from him, her vulnerability more exposed than ever before, but Lillian did not feel threatened. She felt relieved almost, lightened, as if a cumbersome burden had been lifted from her soul even if tiny inklings of embarrassment at her current position were creeping through.
That, she reasoned, was simply because she had never shared such an intimate embrace with a man before.
Soon, his deep and even breathing lulled her into remaining with him in the bed, her body still tired and longing for more rest after the late evening, and Lillian spent some time studying him.
Aëghan was turned towards her, one arm draped over her waist and the other under her cheek as he held her close. Like this, Lillian was provided an opportunity to stare at him openly.
She knew long before that he was exquisitely handsome, yet the calm mask of his face as it rested against the pristine linen of his pillow was almost too breathtaking. There was no cavalier smile curling his wide lips, his cheeks unlined and covered with the dark shadows of hair regrowth. His hair hung in disarray over his slanted forehead, her fingers itching to brush it away from him as it curled over his eyes yet she resisted lest she disturb his slumber and thus her unobstructed perusal of him. The man was, she realised, entirely too flawless. His swarthy skin was shamelessly unblemished except for a tiny, almost indiscernible scar high against his temple- something that she had only noticed for the first time then. She wondered for it briefly knowing that he had the coveted ability to magically heal injuries for his kind, therefore any scarring sustained inferred that he had possibly chosen to allow it to occur.
Somehow, Lillian drifted to sleep by tucking her head back against his chest and under his chin once more. When she woke next, the bed was empty and so were his chambers. Judging by the light streaming through the room, it was well past sunrise and she no doubt had slept the morning away.
Yet that left her wondering where Aëghan had disappeared to and whether she should leave. After all, was there any purpose in staying in his private rooms for longer than necessary?
She sat up, the furs pooling about her hips, and surveyed the chamber quietly. The door was slightly ajar and across the hall she could make out her own rooms, as well as that odious feline reposing indolently on her pillow.
Further inspection revealed that Aëghan kept his quarters immaculate. Even adorned with a level of opulence that would put her own family's furnishings to shame, there was a tasteful purpose to most items occupying his personal space. Lillian swung her legs over the side of the bed and hopped off, stretching as a yawn enveloped her. Idly, she began to trail about the perimeter of the chamber, taking in the foliage that interlocked with the stone ruins, a few errant vines uncurling from their perches to greet her. To either side of his bed were two arching windows that were framed with heavy drapes of royal blue satin and overlooked a resplendent courtyard outside that was teeming with greenery and life, almost without restraint and allowed to grow naturally about the area. It was not unpleasant to gaze upon and she momentarily appreciated the gentle sounds of the birds and other creatures from the boughs of the trees that towered over the structure.
Continuing, Lillian trailed a fingertip against the polished edge of a vanity, lingering over the shaving utensils stacked neatly upon the top and to one corner. She caught her reflection in the looking glass and almost did not recognise herself. Her hair was a wild mane that cascaded over her shoulders, unbound, and the shirt dipped negligently over one shoulder, leaving the webbing of her scars exposed and on display. She glanced away quickly and moved from the vanity, tugging the shirt to cover her marred skin only to have the oversized garment droop back down shortly after.
She should leave, she knew she should, and Lillian found it personally offensive that she was proving to be a right snoop, yet her eyes caught on a modestly-sized writing desk pushed against one corner. Dark shelves surrounded the space, littered with books of renowned human literature- quite possibly a collection of Aëghan's favourite first editions- and atop the desk lay several leather-bound ledgers that caused a frown to knit her brows together.
Despite her better judgement, she thumbed open the topmost ledger to reveal rows upon rows of balanced accounts- numbers and entries filling the page to the very bottom. She peered closer, dipping slightly at the waist to peruse the curling prose better. Momentarily, Lillian was suffused with no small amount of surprise to discover the entries pertained to an eerily well-managed estate- much like the Ravensfield ledgers she used to study with her father and the factotum when Derrick Adams was still alive. If her suspicions were correct, then Aëghan was fastidious to a fault when tracking the income of his holding and the expenditure- anything as innocuous as pastries had been accounted for, to the more elaborate expenditures of yards of timber for a new paddock he was building... but where? She straightened, her gaze lingering on the window outside. The forest surrounded them, trees looming for as far as she could see or envision. What would he need a pad-
"Our princess has finally arisen," his cheerful voice sounded from the threshold of the chamber and Lillian spun, a guilty flush blooming over her neck and cheeks.
Aëghan ambled into the room with all the languid grace of a lord, two steaming porcelain cups cradled in his hands. The sight of him only served to churn the remnants of her common sense into porridge.
What was it about this particular male that could render her stupid with a mere glance? All logic fled her mind at the tousled, unkempt appeal of his inky hair, the boyish grin dimpling his cheeks, the wry mischief glinting from the depths of his deeply blue eyes. He hadn't bothered to change his attire, the irreparably creased shirt he had slept in the night prior hanging over the dark trousers he wore, the neckline dipping low over his chest to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of smooth flesh beneath. And his feet were bare.
None of it should appeal to her. Lord help her, but it did.
"Lillian?" Aëghan halted before her, extending the cup of steaming liquid between them. "Ah, perhaps coffee will loosen your tongue. I have heard some humans fare better after partaking of it in the mornings."
She tore her gaze away from the humour displayed on his face, accepting the cup and cradling it to her chest. "Thank you," she mumbled. Truthfully, the reactions undulating through her body at the behest of the male before her made her feel disconcerted- especially after everything she had shared the evening prior. Especially since she had surmised that Aëghan had a purpose for her presence.
Suddenly, the touch of his fingers against her cheek as he brushed a tangle of her hair behind her ear snatched her gaze back to his. "If you are not averse to it," Aëghan began, his voice a quiet murmur between them, "I'd very much like for you to join me for a tour of the grounds since the weather is pleasant."
The sincerity and tenderness easily read in his gaze startled her and she shied away from his touch, her heartbeat doubling. "That... that would be acceptable," Lillian said, and because she was perhaps a coward right then and needing some space to compile her thoughts and feelings about everything that had transpired, she veered quickly towards the doorway, intending to barricade herself in her chambers until she was bathed and ready. "I need to change my attire." At those words, she became fundamentally aware that she was wearing little else other than a shirt before him, and the garment bared most of her legs to his scrutiny.
Feeling her cheeks burning at the realisation, she hurried her step. "Lillian," Aëghan called, and she stopped briefly to consider him. "Consider wearing something other than the clothes you have been wearing for the last three days. You have an entire wardrobe at your disposal."
It irked her being reminded of the fact and her mood fouled. "I am perfectly content wearing my own garments and not those belonging to another woman, or Enorae."
He frowned at her, perplexed. "You believe the attire belongs to Enorae?"
She shrugged, huffing out a sigh. It was inconceivably annoying to think that she could be harbouring a lingering jealousy over another woman, but where else had the clothes come from? Aëghan hardly seemed the type to covet finely made gowns and petticoats. If they hadn't originated from a previous lover, or lovers. And if they belonged to Enorae, then what did that say about his relationship with the Dravolese female? There was an evident familiarity there, though Lillian had not been able to discern to what extent, nor did she like to consider it as her gut clenched uncomfortably with the notion.
"I do not know what to believe."
His lips twitched and Lillian narrowed her eyes. If he smiled at her, she thought she would rather throw her cup of coffee at his smirking face. "Enorae's tastes in... lovers align with my own, Lillian."
"What does that even mean?" she demanded, her fingers tightening around the warm cup to quell the trembling she had begun to notice.
"It means, if issued a choice, I am certain she would have you warming her sheets rather than I."
"Oh."
He levelled her an infinitely patient look. "Wear the damn clothes, Lillian. I can assure you, your sensibilities will find nothing of offense should you do so."
She considered him for a drawn out breath before nodding and pivoting once more. Her thoughts were reeling, her body veering from sensation to sensation. Being stoic and reserved, Lillian prided herself on being able to maintain a degree of level headedness in most situations.
But if Enorae had told her that her chambers were empty before her arrival, and it could be surmised that none of the garments belonged to the other woman either as it was improbable that she had ever been one of Aëghan's lovers, then everything within had been contrived for her- Lillian's- convenience.
But how?
Their acquaintance stretched a mere six days. The chambers she had been allotted were adorned with a myriad of items and furnishings that would have taken a long time to collect.
She stood before the armoire then and studied the array of colourful fabrics greeting her, her coffee held to her chest like a coveted jewel as she did so. She would want for nothing with a wardrobe like this, Lillian thought, and tentatively stroked a silken skirt appreciatively. There was a vast array of items for her use, from undergarments to trousers, as well as resplendent gowns and shawls. From her time in the Otherworld, Lillian had grown accustomed to wearing trousers simply for their practical use in allowing her to move with the freedom of not snagging on the foliage and obstacles that littered the forest floor- especially when she had to move quickly.
When she considered the weather and the dampness that would inevitably linger in the air, she finally chose a pair of snug fitting, dark breeches which she complimented with a long teal coloured tunic that was split up the sides of her thighs. Items from her practical waistcoat she transferred into the pockets of a thick, woollen coat and, a practice borne from habit now, sheathed an unobtrusive dagger into one of her high top, polished leather boots.
She tamed her hair into its usual braid over her shoulder and when she turned to exit the chamber once more, she met the unblinking yellow gaze of Miss Felicity as she curled atop her pillow. "Well, don't just stare at me," Lillian admonished the cat, smoothing back an imaginary crease on the sleeve of her coat, "what do you think?"
The cat hissed.
"I suppose the cuffs are too long, but they'll suffice," Lillian agreed, and promptly took her leave of the miserable feline before she was compelled to battle her tiny sharp claws.
When she entered the large entrance foyer of the ruins, she found Aëghan awaiting her- much to her surprise. "Are we not to have breakfast first?" Her stomach rumbled in protest. Even though she had spent months with scarcely anything to eat, and then subsequent years with practically scraps for meals, Lillian had grown quickly accustomed to enjoying several meals a day again, and the table at Aëghan's castle was possibly her favourite though she would not admit it quite so readily.
He didn't answer her at first, his eyes flaring as they trailed over her form from top to bottom, and Lillian stopped before him suddenly, very aware of the effect his scrutiny was once more having on her body. "Believe me, by the time the day is over, you will be too full to walk," he remarked cryptically.
She could not help the intrigue that must have been revealed on her visage for Aëghan grinned down at her. "I see."
"Not yet, but you will." He eyed her neck briefly, his smile dropping, and then he unwound the thick, burgundy scarf that he had knotted about his neck. Before she comprehended what he was about, the scarf was pulled around her, folded under her chin, and the wool was still warm from his flesh and embodied with his scent. At her incredulous expression, Aëghan said, "It is still cold. And I would like you to wear my scarf. It would... appease me."
Her mouth, which had been slightly agape, snapped closed as he stepped away from her. She could barely formulate words and instead of lambasting his impertinence, she nodded her head. It was useless denying that wearing his clothing had brought her a level of comfort when they both knew why she had worn his scarf before.
And truthfully, Aëghan was practising an appealing graciousness by voicing that it was he who desired her to wear it rather than the actual reason why Lillian did.
His smile was crooked, dimpling his cheek, as if he knew the thoughts that were tumbling through her mind, but then he pivoted and opened the door for her. "Come, there is much to see," he told her cheerfully. "Perhaps you will learn a few new things today, my lady."
Her boots crunched lightly against the flagstones of the open courtyard, her steps skirting about the larger puddles that lingered. She paused at the edge of one arching pillar towards the opposite end, her gaze fixed on the narrow path that stretched into the forest beyond. The fresh smell of earth and moss tingled her senses, the leaves rustling with an errant whisper of wind that beckoned her forwards. To Aëghan, who was close behind her and who had stopped just as she had, she turned her head slightly and slid her gaze to the side, casting him a wry look. "And perhaps one of the things I learn pertains to the secrets of a dragon, and what it is exactly that he wants from me."
She stepped off the stones then, her boots sinking into the soft mud of the earth, and she embedded her fingers into the pockets of her coat, hiding her smile.
For Aëghan had looked shocked for just the briefest of seconds before a slow, languid grin had moved his lips.