XIII

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

The emaciated-looking feline sat placidly on the wooden windowsill, observing her with an unerring stillness. The only indication that it was indeed a living, organic entity was the steady, rhythmic swish of its mottled tail and the one, solitary blink it bestowed upon the human that had the audacity to occupy the same space as it.

Lillian considered it warily, unsure of its presence or from whence it even came. It must be old if one considered the patchy, threadbare appearance of its coat, yet its wide yellow eyes held an astuteness that was unaffected by this revelation.

She was not fond of cats.

And this particular creature did not seem inclined to vacate her chambers no matter how much provocation or shooing Lillian inflicted upon it. Eventually she had conceded defeat and allowed the feline to remain, so long as it did not venture too close to her person. And presently it seemed content to stay in the vicinity of the window where a pitiful stream of light fell through the panes.

Though the storm had abated, the rain had not. Outside was a veritable torrent of cold, wet weather, and Lillian was grateful for the sanctity of the ruins within which she currently resided.

Whatever Aëghan had done to establish a habitable compound, he had done it... well. It was fascinating to behold, and the day prior Lillian had not paid much of it heed. Today, however, with the prospect of her days laid out before her within the household, she found herself fascinated with the intricacies of its construction.

She had not ventured from her room yet that morning, taking her time with her toilette and wardrobe as she contemplated her fate and the enigmatic male that was responsible for it.

The structure of the ruins was a curious combination of stone and the surrounding elements, as if blended into the forest rather than vanquishing it to make room for the building. Boughs of the trees intercepted and stretched across the walls and ceilings, hanging vines of ivy blooming with white flowers she had no recollection of in this realm, strewn in whimsical garlands across the support beams. The combination of natural wood and the ruined stone foundation was an interesting commentary on human and fae structural artifaces- one that Lillian found strangely appealing and welcoming.

Then she began to compile a closer inspection of her quarters.

Her room was well-catered to a woman's needs.

The thought was unwelcome and angry knots of bitterness lodged against Lillian's throat, especially as she considered the open doors of her armoire.

Rows of colourful dresses and garments practically spilled from the shelves and hanging rod, a plethora of silks and satins to rival any reputable lady's wardrobe meeting her cultivated eye. Alas, it was not only the clothes that indicated to her that Aëghan Dranora had perhaps entertained a woman in this chamber prior to her presence.

It was remarkably well-resourced.

Every conceivable comfort had been thought of. There were arrays of oil perfumes on the dresser, as well as an ivory comb and brush, hair pins and bonnets, pretty hats and bright to muted shawls in every shade imaginable. Plush rugs littered the cold stone floor to stave off the chill and in one corner a screen would ensure privacy for the substantial bath tub behind it.

She would want for nothing and it disconcerted her.

Had he brought women to reside with him before?

His cavalier and blatant insinuations hinted as such.

She chose not to wear any of the garments within the armoire as she simply couldn't stomach the thought of it, though she would never admit to herself that the bitter taste left on her tongue was the result of the vicious tentacles of jealousy that slithered through her entire being at the thought of him with another woman. The notion was ridiculous and she berated herself for it- she had no claim over the Dravolese, nor did she want one.

Not even the tiniest amount.

Her own clothes from the day prior would suffice until she could purchase something new... from wherever she was. If that was even a possibility. Other than the ruins, Lillian had garnered little purchase of her new surrounds other than the obvious clue that she was now in the depths of a forest miles from Ravensfield.

The feline suddenly made a croaking sound that Lillian realised must be its aged version of a meow which was its way of greeting the newcomer that had entered her chambers.

"Oh, good," Enorae said pleasantly. She stood on the threshold of the chamber, a tray in her hands, her dewy eyes large and inquisitive on Lillian. "You are awake. It is early yet and I wasn't sure whether I would be disturbing you."

The cat dropped to the flagstones and loped to Enorae, giving Lillian a pointed look as it passed. "You are not," she told the other woman with a tight smile. The fae had shown her nothing but politeness, yet Lillian remained guarded about her. Their interactions had been limited the day prior, and what little communication they had shared had been strictly formal. It was not lost on Lillian that Enorae was somehow closely linked to Aëghan- a fact that left a myriad of questions swirling about her mind that she longed to know the answers to.

Enorae came further into the chamber, the cat winding about her feet as if it cared not a whit for its own wellbeing, and set the tray atop her unkempt bed. "I thought you may like some breakfast."

"Not to be taken in the dining hall this morning?"

Enorae blinked at her slowly, tilting her head to the side in a movement that signified perplexity. "Would you prefer to eat there?"

"No, do not go through the trouble for me. I simply thought..." Her voice trailed off... for what had she thought? To see Aëghan so soon after he had spent the evening in her chambers, holding her hand in the gloom as the storm raged on outside? She was a fool to harbour such notions for the male.

As if sensing her unease, Enorae smiled. "I see Miss Felicity has been keeping you company," she remarked, bending at the waist to briefly give the mangy cat a scratch between its ears. "She normally does not stray far from Aëghan's chambers."

"Cats have a way of being where they do not belong," Lillian grumbled. "You are more than welcome to return her."

Enorae's smile turned sly. "Oh, no. I personally do not handle the creature. She is... pernickety about that. If she wants to stay in this room, then she will stay."

"Wonderful."

The Dravolese female snickered softly at Lillian's disparaging tone. "I have tried to convince Aëghan to get rid of her for fear of waking up one morning to find my sheets and limbs shredded, but he is inordinately attached to the thing."

"He seems remarkably particular about forming attachments for human accoutrements," Lillian pointed out, glancing meaningfully at the lush furnishings of the chamber.

Enorae inclined her chin in acknowledgment but made no further remark on it, clearly reluctant to speak of the male freely. Her loyalty to him should be comforting, that a perfectly amiable woman could find something of value in the male to remain so steadfast to him, but Lillian only found it... grating. Was there a relationship there- lovers, paramours, or something more? As far as she could tell, only Aëghan and Enorae resided in the ruins.

And whoever had stayed in Lillian's chambers before her.

"My chambers," Lillian began, knowing that her question would be provocative but unable to help it regardless, "has been equipped precisely for the needs of a female. Is this... is this where other women of Aëghan's acquaintance have stayed before me?"

A frown knitted across Enorae's delicate brows, her pointed ears twitching forward at the query. A distant ruckus from somewhere within the building caught Lillian's attention, as it did Enorae's, and both women turned to it.

"This chamber has been empty until a few days before your arrival," Enorae said offhandedly as she left the room, heading towards the source of the commotion, and Lillian followed her, unsure what to make of the information the Dravolese had shared with her.

The passage they traversed through was lined with the same vines that adorned her ceiling and walls, similar flowers blooming cheerfully at intervals. Other than her and Aëghan's chambers, Lillian wasn't aware of any others on the floor, and eventually the passage ended abruptly at the large spiral staircase that overlooked the entrance of the ruins.

Enorae's soft gasp met her ears, and then the faeborn was tripping gracefully down the stone steps towards the source of the sound.

Towards the source that made every muscle in Lillian's body freeze, poised on the landing, unable to progress forward another inch.

Intermittent spaces broke the stone banister of the staircase as it wound down, providing chunked views of the scene below, and it was through one of these that Lillian beheld him.

But Aëghan was in a state of dishevelment, having emerged from the weather outside explosively in a barrage of slammed doors and a tirade of cuss words, saturated as he tore off his drenched coat with a vulgar curse, tossing it against the ground so that it landed with a wet slap against the stones.

And she was riveted, her lips parting in inaudible shock, or awe, or something unnameable, as her eyes drank him in as if parched, in need of replenishment, and it stood before her in a shirt that clung to every contour.

He may as well have stood before her bare for all that the material concealed, and Lillian was helpless, only able to admire what was eloquently on display- a broad, heaving chest, the delineated ridges and cords of his flat abdomen- and if that did not set her body aflame, then the wild disarray of his hair as it hung over his forehead and brows, the droplets of rainwater that clung to the edges of his wide lips, the tip of his nose...

Mesmerized, she could only stare in open wonderment as he shook his head, sending water over his shoulder in an uncaring spray, his shoulders bunching when he raised his arm to scrape the dark, sodden locks from his face.

"If I have told him a thousand times," Aëghan was grumbling furiously, a visible tremble running over his body as Enorae approached him, "it is not enough for the damn Sylph. Cotton between the ears, or deliberately vexing, but if he forgets to latch the lakey paddock one more fucking time-"

"You know they are flighty," Enorae was saying as she approached, her tone suggesting amusement at Aëghan's visible ire. "And the lakeys would have found a way to escape in this weather in any event."

He threw her a condemning look. "The least you could have done is brought me a blanket since you are not sympathetic to my torment," he grouched.

"I was not aware you were out," Enorae said fairly. "And I was ensuring the comfort of your guest." She glanced about then, clearly remembering that Lillian had at one stage been following her, and whatever reverie had frozen her limbs suddenly evaporated, and she recalled that she was supposed to be descending the stairs instead of ogling the Dravolese who occupied the majority of her thoughts of late. As if the mention of Lillian compelled him to, Aëghan's gaze lifted and found her teetering on the edge of a step, pinning her with a look of such heated intensity a knot of leaden need lodged deep in her belly.

"Wherever she has gotten to," Enorae muttered, plunking her hands on her hips in confusion.

Aëghan cocked a brow at Lillian, evidently amused that he had caught her gaping at him like a confused fish, and she compelled her feet to move, to proceed downwards on legs that felt as if they were made of foam instead of muscle and bone, even if her skin felt about ready to burst into flame at having been caught in her blatant regard of a notably wet and scandalous male.

"No doubt admiring one of our many views," Aëghan said shamelessly as Lillian reached the base of the stairs.

She glared at him in warning, eyeing the grin that tilted one corner of his lips into his cheek. "And finding them sorely lacking," she remarked pertly.

"Oh, perhaps you'll find something in the Dragon's Hold that you wouldn't find in Ravensfield," he teased, "my lady."

Lillian loathed the manner in which her cheeks must seem inflamed to both Dravolese before her, Enorae glancing curiously between the interchange. "Allow me to happily assure you that nothing here has even compared to Ravensfield."

Aëghan tilted his head to the side, his gaze running over her form almost languorously, before he shook his head and moved past her, but not before deliberately brushing her shoulder with his own. Even though she wore several layers to shield her from the chill and a heavy woollen coat covered her arms, she felt that brief connection as if it touched her very soul, and her intake of breath was loud in the silence of the chamber.

He must have heard it, but Aëghan made no indication of it as he continued on his way, beginning to wind up the stairs. "As much as I would love to linger and prove how wrong you are in your observations," he told her, and possibly Enorae too since the female lingered close to Lillian's side, "I find I must eradicate myself of these clothes entirely before I freeze to death. Tomorrow, should you wish it, I will organise a personal tour of the property and surrounds- if the weather permits, of course, because I, for one, have no intention of running about in the cold and wet."

His voice disappeared, as did he, and an unsettling feeling of loss inhabited her, making her almost yearn for him even if their interactions were littered with barbs and double meanings. She became aware of the burn in her arm, the band panging occasionally as it healed over, and she rubbed it unconsciously as if to soothe the feeling.

If she were honest with herself, those few moments with him, though painfully brief and charged, titillated her more than... than anything before. Her attention had been diverted, alert to every nuance and flick of his deeply blue gaze, so much so that her trembling fingers- well, what of them? She could not recall if she had found her tremors returning, when before, with any interaction with the fae, she could be sure of it.

Perhaps she needed a walk in the frigid rain to stave off whatever madness was taking over her mind and body.

"Will... would you be so kind as to show me about the ruins?" Lillian said instead, turning to Enorae who had been lingering expectantly close to her. "Of... this place?"

The Dravolese smiled then, open and warm, and if she thought anything of the exchange between Aëghan and Lillian a moment before, she made no mention of it. "Of course. Though perhaps you'd best get to your breakfast before Miss Felicity does."