The sly daredevil didn't come down for dinner.
Not that anyone truly expected him to. But Seraphine, with her usual knowing frown, stood from the long dining table, her silk dress swishing softly as she walked out of the hall. She made her way down the quiet, dimly lit corridor of the East wing- Julian's side of the mansion.
She stopped briefly in front of the family portrait that hung just before the double- arched entrance to his wing. Her eyes lingered there.
Lady Morganna stood regal in her dark plum gown, Lord Ravenshade at her side in his high- collared black coat, and herself- just a baby bundled in deep crimson cloth- nestled in their mother's arms.
But Julian…
Julian, at six, stood beside their father with one hand placed behind his back and an unreadable expression on his face. Even then, his storm- grey eyes held the same guarded depth they did now. He hadn't smiled in the painting. He never smiled.
Not at her.
He was six when she was born, and even then, he had already claimed his space, his solitude, like it was armor.
About Four hundred years ago…
"You should spend time with her sometimes," Lady Morganna said softly, sitting beside her son in the solarium as sunlight streamed through the frosted glass. Her voice held no accusation, only a quiet plea.
Julian, six years old, sat straight-backed in the velvet chair. His silver-blond hair fell neatly to his shoulders, and his attire was flawlessly pressed. He looked every inch the pureblood heir composed, precise and distant. His eyes were cool, his expression unreadable as always.
Across the room, little seraphine toddled around the cushions, humming to herself, her golden curls bouncing with every step. Her cheeks were rosy, and she clutched a wand-shaped toy in her tiny fingers. At eleven months old, she was a bright-eyed, excitable child who adored her big brother despite his aloofness.
"She needs to know you better," Morganna continued gently. "To trust you. To feel safe in your hands."
Julian didn't look at his mother, only stared out the window towards the woods.
"She knows I care," he said at last, voice quiet but firm. "And even if she doesn't… I care."
Morganna sighed, a flicker of sadness flashing across her eyes. "Julian-
"Mama!"
The door creaked open as little seraphine ran toward them, her arms outstretched, her wand dragging behind her on the carpet.
"My sweetest," Morganna said with a smile, bending down to scoop her up.
The child giggle, pressing a kiss to her mother's cheek. Morganna smoothed back her curls and then looked at Julian again.
"I'm be back shortly. Julian, keep an eye on your sister, please. "She handed seraphine her wand and disappeared down the corridor.
Julian didn't move.
Seraphine, unfazed, plopped herself on the rug and started poking her toy toward a curious bug on the floor. "Tu-lian…" she babbled.
"Tu-lian…"
He still didn't respond.
"Tu-lian…" she cried louder.
Julian finally turned toward her with a sigh and stood. He walked to a nearly cabinet, pulled out a newer, shinier toy wand-a gift he hadn't even unwrapped it when it was given to him-and handed it to her without a word.
She stared at it for a moment, confused, then smiled broadly.
But when the bug she was playing with flew suddenly toward her face, she shrieked and dropped the wand. In a heartbeat, tears welled in her eyes, and her small hands reached upward.
Julian stood still, unsure… then walked over slowly.
Without saying anything, he bent down and lifted her into his arms-awkwardly, rigidly, like someone who'd never held a child before. But he held her.
Seraphine sniffled, resting her head on his shoulder.
He didn't know why-but something about her tiny frame resting against his chest made him pause. For once, the coldness in his chest loosened, if only slightly.
He walked with her in his arms, gently rocking her as she calmed down.
It was the first time.
The door creaked.
Lady Morganna stepped back into the room and stopped abruptly. She froze in the doorway.
There was Julian-stoic Julian-carrying seraphine with a tenderness she had never witnessed before. He was humming softly, a quiet, foreign lullaby, one that Morganna hadn't heard since her own mother sang it to her.
Seraphine was half-asleep against him.
"He has a heart," she whispered.
A real heart.
Present Day…
Seraphine blinked away the memory as she pushed open Julian's wing door and walked into the quiet corridor. That old memory resurfaced every now and then -mostly when he acted like a cold bastard in the present.
He hadn't change much, not in expression, not in silence, not even in the way he hid his concern behind sarcasm and mischief.
But she knew better.
That little boy who hummed lullabies still existed.
Somewhere.
And she had a feeling… that someone in this mansion might soon find it too.