Lila's silk slippers clicked softly against the polished marble as she walked alongside Ciel through the sprawling hallways of Evandale Manor. The air carried a faint sweetness from the winter roses blooming in the adjacent garden. She stole a glance at her fiancé, his composed expression a mask of detachment that only deepened her curiosity.
"You're unusually quiet," she remarked, letting her tone carry a hint of lightness. "Do you not wish to ask about my conversation with Queen Morgana?"
Ciel's pace remained steady, but his eyes briefly flicked to hers, as if weighing her words. "It is not my place to question your actions, Lila," he replied evenly. "You've made it clear you wish to handle things your way."
Her lips pressed into a line. His refusal to pry, though courteous, felt like a subtle wall between them. She was no longer the same Lila who lashed out recklessly, but proving that to him would take time—and perhaps more than words.
The two entered the drawing room where her siblings, Aria and Callum, were already seated. Aria's bright smile lit up the room. "Sister, you're here! We've been waiting."
"Did something happen at court?" Callum asked, his sharp gaze narrowing slightly.
Lila took a measured breath before replying, "Nothing I couldn't handle. Queen Morgana… has her games, but I'm learning to play them."
Callum's jaw tightened. "If she pressures you—"
"She won't," Lila interrupted gently, her voice firm. "I won't allow it."
Aria reached for her hand, squeezing it lightly. "I'm proud of you, Lila. I knew you could hold your ground."
Her sister's unwavering faith was a balm, but it also brought a pang of guilt. Lila wasn't entirely sure if she could keep this up without faltering. The weight of her new path—and the secrets tied to her transmigration—pressed on her shoulders.
Later that evening, as twilight painted the sky in hues of amber and violet, Lila found herself wandering the garden paths. She needed air, space to clear her thoughts. The Queen's cryptic parting words echoed in her mind:
"Be wary of those who smile too brightly."
Who could she have meant? It wasn't merely a warning—it felt like a challenge.
"Lila," a smooth, unfamiliar voice broke through her thoughts.
She turned sharply, her heart skipping as she came face-to-face with Elyas Marwood. His golden hair caught the last rays of sunlight, and his warm smile carried a teasing edge.
"Lord Marwood," she said cautiously, clasping her hands before her. "To what do I owe this surprise?"
"Merely a coincidence," Elyas replied, though his tone suggested otherwise. "I was visiting your brother, but he was… indisposed. Lucky for me, I found someone far more intriguing."
Lila's eyes narrowed. Elyas was a man of riddles, always speaking in half-truths. She knew better than to take him at face value.
"And what is it about me that intrigues you so, my lord?" she asked, tilting her head in feigned curiosity.
"You've changed," he said simply, stepping closer. His gaze swept over her, but not in the manner of a man appraising beauty. It was as though he was searching for something deeper, something hidden. "The Lila Argent I remember was sharp and unrelenting. Now… there's a softness to you. A mystery."
Lila's breath hitched, her carefully composed mask slipping for just a moment. Did he suspect the truth? She quickly regained her composure. "People grow, Lord Marwood. Even thorns can learn to yield."
Elyas chuckled, low and smooth. "Perhaps. But I suspect there's more to your transformation than mere growth."
Before she could respond, the sound of footsteps interrupted them. Ciel emerged from the shadows, his expression unreadable as his piercing gaze landed on Elyas.
"Lila," he said, his voice colder than usual. "It's late. You shouldn't linger outside."
Elyas didn't flinch under the duke's scrutiny. Instead, he smiled wider, as if savoring the tension. "Ah, Duke Evandale. Always the vigilant guardian."
Ciel's jaw tightened, but he didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he stepped to Lila's side, offering her his arm. "Shall we?"
Lila hesitated only for a moment before taking his arm. She allowed herself one last glance at Elyas, who inclined his head slightly, his expression unreadable.
As they walked away, the silence between her and Ciel was palpable. She could feel the tension radiating from him, though he said nothing.
Finally, she broke the silence. "You disapprove of Elyas."
"I distrust him," Ciel corrected, his tone clipped. "He's dangerous in ways you don't yet understand."
Lila frowned. "I can handle him."
Ciel stopped abruptly, turning to face her. His eyes, usually so composed, betrayed a flicker of frustration. "This isn't a game, Lila. People like him thrive on weakness. Don't give him the chance to exploit yours."
Her heart tightened at his words, both a warning and a reminder of how far she still had to go.
"Then I suppose I'll have to prove to you that I'm not weak," she said softly, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling within her.
For a moment, something in Ciel's expression softened. But just as quickly, it was gone.
"Let's go inside," he said, his tone returning to its usual coolness.
As they continued back to the manor, Lila couldn't shake the feeling that the strings of intrigue around her were tightening—and she was at the center of it all.
The library was silent, save for the occasional rustle of paper as Lila turned the pages of an old tome. The flickering candlelight gave the room a warm glow, casting soft shadows across the shelves. She was halfway through deciphering a passage about Eldorian courtship rituals when the door creaked open.
"Burning the midnight oil?" Callum's familiar voice broke the quiet.
Lila glanced up, startled. Her eldest brother rarely sought her out, especially at this hour. "Couldn't sleep," she replied, closing the book as he stepped inside.
Callum's sharp gaze softened as he approached, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "You always did bury yourself in books when something weighed on you."
"I'm fine," Lila lied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Lila." His tone was gentle but firm. He took a seat across from her, resting his elbows on the table. "You don't have to carry everything alone."
Her chest tightened at his words. Was this the same brother who had once been so cold and distant?
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
For a moment, there was silence. Then Callum leaned back, his expression unreadable. "We'll face it together, whatever it is."