Memories of that night of celebration flooded Delilah's mind every morning. At first, they caused her disgust, but as the days passed, that feeling transformed into constant confusion. The distance that had been breached between Cain and her that night seemed to grow even wider when she woke up.
She still clearly remembered the moment she opened her eyes to find the bed empty. There were no explanations. Not a single word from the man who had burst into her room. And, of course, she never dared to ask what all of it had meant. Or why he had kissed her.
On more than one occasion, she tried to convince herself that such strange behavior had been a figment of her imagination. But now she walked on uncertain ground. The doubts she carried turned the passage of time into silent torture. Even so, she continued to behave as she always did: quiet, reserved, without demanding the slightest clarity.
Cain, for his part, had regained control of himself. He occupied himself with his daily activities with the same naturalness as always. His behavior was perfect—that of someone to whom absolutely nothing had happened.
The words he had said to her that night—that is the one thing only—made no sense to Delilah. Or perhaps they did. But she refused to accept it.
On that Saturday morning, a black automobile with the Bathory house crest finally appeared at the mansion's entrance. A servant descended and handed two white envelopes to Delilah. One of them clearly indicated that she was to be escorted to the Bathory residence that very afternoon.
For a few moments, she waited for some reaction from the Marquise. She had followed Andrea Bathory's instructions exactly. The envelope without a sender had been placed in one of the mansion's private rooms, accessible only to Lathasha, at the indicated time. But the Marquise never responded. In fact, she hadn't even visited the mansion.
With no other options, Delilah went down the stairs. The automobile was waiting for her. She followed the last of the written instructions, possibly by Andrea Bathory. She tried not to think too much and walked toward the exit, attempting to go unnoticed.
—You are actually going.
The voice stopped her. Lucrecia had been waiting to see her before she left. The Marquise had ordered her to be discreet about the matter, but she had been unable to remain silent before something she considered completely absurd.
At the same time, the library door remained open. From inside, Cain observed in silence, though he did not expect Lucrecia to intervene. As much as Delilah had wanted to avoid her, she knew that sooner or later she would have to face her.
—Bathory is extremely strict with the people they allow around them —Lucrecia said coldly, crossing her arms—. I've been wondering what could have made them notice you.
Her crystalline eyes hardened.
—But in reality, there is nothing special about you.
Her words were so direct that even Cain felt the urge to intervene from the library. Being invited by the Bathory family was something reserved for those close to the King himself. It couldn't simply be a whim.
But Delilah responded with unexpected calm.
—You shouldn't worry —she said softly—. Surely they will grow bored of me at any moment.
Lucrecia clenched her fists. Intense frustration surged through her at that nonchalant response.
—You dare to mock the nobility and the bureaucracy —she retorted sharply—. That is why I loathe people who have everything easy just because of a bit of luck.
Delilah decided to end the conversation. She bowed her head slightly and offered a brief apology before continuing on her way. That attitude only increased Lucrecia's anger. It was a rude way to escape the argument. But at that moment, neither of them truly belonged to a hierarchy that demanded explanations.
Cain looked away. A strange anxiety invaded him. He tried to convince himself that Delilah's affairs had nothing to do with him. But his chest felt oppressed. The consequences of that night—when he lost his shame and crossed his own boundaries—still weighed on his heart.
Fortunately, Delilah had maintained her distance. She had kept her thoughts to herself. Perhaps that was the best possible outcome. And yet... he couldn't help but feel frustrated.
When Delilah finally left the mansion, the place fell silent. Lucrecia remained motionless in the foyer. She only moved when she heard the automobile's engine start.
Cain felt no better than she did. But he was determined to remember the lesson from his past. There was a time when his feelings had flourished, and those feelings had made him a prisoner of an illusion. An illusion that awakened the worst part of him.
—If you continue to be this nervous, you won't be able to get anything out of that girl.
The voice appeared suddenly. Raguel. The green-eyed demon had burst in without warning, completely indifferent to Lucrecia's temperament.
—Stay out of my business —she responded without looking at him.
—It's curious to hear you say that —Raguel replied with a smile—, considering how much Delilah's business interests you.
Lucrecia was in no mood for his games.
—If you tried to get along better with her —he continued lightly— you could use her to get closer to Neil Bathory.
The young woman looked at him intensely but finally decided to ignore him. Without saying anything more, she left the room.
Raguel sighed. He found it amusing to be surrounded by such interesting people. On one hand, there was the careless girl. On the other, the young woman who was clearly in love. Lucrecia was not the type of woman to fall in love just for power or beauty, but the Bathorys had always been her ambition. Now they were closer than ever. And at the same time, further than she could reach.
Delilah, in contrast, seemed to provoke high society without even trying. She only wanted to be left in peace... and yet, surprises constantly pursued her.
Raguel sighed again as his gaze met Cain's distant figure. The young man remained focused on his books. As impeccable as ever. A brilliant man. And completely unpredictable. Someone capable of subduing even his own emotions... when he believed they were only fleeting.
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