Cassius removed his armor and refreshed himself. With a few hours of night remaining, he retreated to his study to address the mounting matters at hand.
A knock at the door disturbed the quiet, and a maid entered.
"Penelope," Cassius acknowledged with a small smile. "I trust there was no trouble in the castle during my absence?"
"None at all, Your Highness," she replied, returning the smile. "All is settled now. Though… Lady Lilian was quite troubled by your absence. She didn't sleep through the night. I believe she spent much of it by the window, awaiting your return. She seemed very concerned for your well-being." Penelope blushed faintly. "She showed a keen interest in what trouble you might have faced. I reassured her of the ancient wood's protections—and of your unmatched skill, of course."
Cassius froze at the mention.
"You spoke to her of Pandomurus?" His voice tightened as he asked.
"Very briefly, sire."
"Did you… reveal how the curse was unleashed?"
"No, sire." Penelope's smile faded. "I mentioned the war and how the ancient magic was released to protect our borders. Nothing more."
"Good." Cassius nodded, though uncertainty still flickered in his eyes. He caught Julius's gaze as the commander stepped silently into the room. "Thank you, Penelope. You may rest now."
She gave a curtsy and left, the door clicking softly behind her. The air grew heavier in her absence.
"Don't start," Cassius warned quietly, anticipating Julius's judgment.
But Julius chose another concern. "The number of rogues is growing."
"Pandomurus shields us from humans, not from what festers within," Cassius said grimly. "I don't yet know which clans are losing their men. But a discreet investigation may yield answers."
"I agree. But we must tread carefully," Julius said, thoughtful. "Perhaps we find a reason to gather them? Draw them in."
"A ball," Cassius mused aloud. "A royal gathering could serve two purposes—reinforce my presence… and give you cover to investigate."
Julius nodded. "And Lady Lilian?"
"She'll be safe," Cassius said without hesitation. "It will also make a silent declaration. My choice will not be questioned. And she will see she is safe, even among our kind."
Julius hesitated, his voice low. "But they are not our kind."
"I am still their king," Cassius replied sharply. The matter was closed.
Dawn arrived faster than expected. Lilian dragged her tired feet to the dining room, sleep having eluded her for most of the night. Cassius, on the other hand, looked almost untouched by the night's dangers, composed and focused.
Lilian picked at her food slowly. This time it wasn't worry spoiling her appetite, but sheer exhaustion. Her mind circled around the night's events—and the growing list of unanswered questions.
Her eyes eventually drifted to Cassius, and she studied him without shame until he looked up and caught her gaze.
"What kills a vampire?" she asked, suddenly.
Cassius sighed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean… are you immortal? Do you get sick? Is it silver? A cross? A stake through the heart? Holy water? Garlic?" Her tone was calm, but the flood of questions betrayed a restless curiosity—and deeper concern.
Cassius's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you planning to kill me?" he asked, searching her face.
"Are you?" she countered, with a spark of mischief. Her eyes widened, innocence layered over provocation. "You already know how to kill me—it's only fair."
His lips twitched. "Stabbing my heart won't do anything. It doesn't beat. Crucifixes and pegs are meaningless. Severing the head is fool-proof. Fire is another. We're not immortal, but we live well beyond the span of human life. Most of us die… at human hands."
Lilian fell quiet. Guilt twisted in her chest. Her kind had been the predators just as often as the prey. And then—worse—came the memory she still hadn't voiced.
"It must be self-defence," she said lightly, trying to bury the pang in humor.
Cassius nearly smiled. "You did say pitchforks wouldn't work. You seemed to know quite a lot on arrival."
"Lucky guess," she replied softly.
He leaned forward. "Why the sudden interest?"
She hesitated. "It's about last night. I wondered how likely it was… that you'd be killed. If you carry crucifixes or something impractical into battle."
"Blades work better," Cassius said. "We rarely kill each other. Most rogues are imprisoned and judged. Some clans deal with their own. Often, exile from Ironwood is punishment enough. Outside these woods… they're vulnerable. Especially against Willowell."
"Willowell?" she echoed.
"They seek to eradicate us. No peace treaty. No negotiation. To them, we're monsters."
"And Elderwood?" She questioned further.
"Better. No formal alliance, but more understanding. King Octavio is… diplomatic, even if clumsy. His offenses are usually born of ignorance, not malice."
"I'm from Elderwood," Lilian admitted. "And I, too, came here believing the fairytales." She looked at him again. "Sometimes I wonder if fate brought me here."
"To be my pet?" Cassius's grip tightened around his fork.
"Perhaps." Her voice was light, but his expression turned to stone.
"Perhaps it was fate." He exhaled, shifting the mood. "I'm organising a ball in a month. I wish for you to attend."
"Oh—how splendid!" Lilian's cheeks flushed with excitement.
"Penelope will assist with attire. Julius and I will prepare you for our traditions, and share what you wish to know about the guests."
"You're an incredibly kind host." Her smile bloomed brightly.
Cassius nodded but said nothing. The compliment felt like a blade. He wasn't kind—not in the way she believed. He was selfish. He kept her here. He hadn't even told her the truth of their bond.
Moments later, he excused himself, leaving her in the dining hall—while he walked into the solitude that had begun to feel like his only true companion.