Dorian spent a sleepless night, his mind akin to a tempest of swirling thoughts and emotions, all tethered to the enigma that was Lillian.
It wasn't merely the prospect of her being the key to unlocking chaos and releasing powerful prisoners that kept him awake, but an undercurrent of feelings he dared not explore. Unspoken desires danced in the recesses of his thoughts, and the mere contemplation of them sent his mind into a wild tumult.
As dawn's first light pierced the darkness, Dorian rose from his bed, grappling with the internal storm that raged within. The distant sounds of the awakening household hinted at the approaching responsibilities he bore.
With a heavy sigh, he steeled himself, forcing thoughts of Lillian into the far corners of his mind. He needed focus, as he had always trained himself to achieve. The weight of duty pressed upon him, a familiar burden he carried stoically.
A servant entered Dorian's chambers, the familiar figure of Earl, his devoted manservant. True to Dorian's past instructions, Earl forewent the customary knock.
Knocking seemed futile with senses as heightened as Dorian's, a symphony of sounds that usually blended into noise. Yet, amidst this auditory canvas, Lillian's presence resonated distinctly – the cadence of her breath, the rhythm of her heart, and the sweet defiance in her voice.
Unlike the cacophony around him, her sounds were a melody, an unexpected symphony that played on the strings of his heightened senses.
"Your bath is ready, M'Lord," Earl announced, bowing with courtesy before walking toward the intricately carved door leading to the luxurious bathing chamber.
Dorian acknowledged Earl with a nod. Rising, he followed Earl's steady steps toward the intricately carved door leading to the luxurious bathing chamber.
Upon entering, the warm embrace of steam greeted Dorian, offering a momentary sanctuary from the weight of responsibilities.
The soothing waters provided a brief respite, a pause before the imminent demands of the day.
Emerging from the bath, Dorian underwent a transformation. Cloaked in regal attire—a deep sapphire velvet coat adorned with silver embroidery—he exuded nobility. His dark-brown hair, neatly combed, framed a countenance that reflected both resolve and a subtle satisfaction.
As he stood before the mirror, Dorian couldn't ignore the faint smile playing on his lips—a silent acknowledgment of his own reflection. "Looking rather impeccable today," he murmured, appreciating the undeniable truth reflected in the polished surface.
The subtle confidence in his demeanor echoed the quiet assurance that he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
Suddenly a knock echoed through Dorian's chamber, and even before the door opened, he knew who sought entrance.
"Come in," Dorian's composed voice welcomed her. Selena, eyes avoiding direct contact, entered the room.
"Good Morning, Brother," she greeted with a touch of formality, an unspoken acknowledgment of the lingering unease. Dorian, ever collected, responded in kind, "And to you, sister."
Attempting to skirt around the impending apology, Selena stumbled over her words. "I, uh, see you're ready to see King Ramsey," she ventured, a subtle prelude to the words she struggled to express.
"I am," Dorian affirmed with a slight smile, recognizing the difficulty his sister faced.
"Dorian, I'm so... sorry," Selena finally blurted, her voice laden with remorse. "You are nothing like Father, and I should have never said something like that. I'm just scared and worried about—"
"Come here, Selena," Dorian gently interrupted, his outstretched arms a silent invitation. Without hesitation, Selena rushed into the warmth of his embrace. In that moment, Dorian's strong arms offered not only comfort but a sanctuary of love and protection, a reassurance that transcended the weight of their shared history.
"You've done nothing but love and care for me since Mother died. You've protected me all these years, and I compared you to that monster," Selena admitted, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she murmured sincerely.
"I forgive you," Dorian replied, his gentle touch stroking her hair. "And, to be honest, you were right about everything."
"What?" Selena asked, confusion etched on her face as she looked up at her brother.
Dorian sighed, releasing his sister from his embrace. "Lillian may be a key to opening Coulandra," he confessed.
"So, the ritual could be true? What made you change your mind?" Selena inquired.
Dorian hesitated. He didn't want to divulge the details of his time with Lillian in the library. "It just all makes sense now. And I need to inform the other Protectors."
"That's good. I'll let Julian know," Selena suggested, a raised brow hinting at the curiosity beneath her words. She subtly probed, "That's if he's still allowed to stay at the Estate?"—a reference to Dorian's recent directive for Julian to leave.
"Yes, he's allowed to stay," Dorian grunted in response, catching the glint in his sister's eyes despite her attempt to conceal it. He could practically hear her heartbeat elevate the moment he spoke.
"Well, good luck with King Ramsey. When you get back, we can continue talking," Selena offered before planting a kiss on her brother's cheek and gracefully exiting his chambers.