In Delilah's hands rested a discreet invitation written in Andrea's elegant, artistic script, inviting her to dinner that very evening. Due to the rain, the journey had become long and desperately slow; the streets seemed to drown in the darkness of the stormy sky, and the growing traffic manipulated time with cruelty.
The young woman watched the tempest with a dismayed expression. The driver could read the disappointment reflected in her face through the rearview mirror. If the situation continued like this, it wouldn't be many minutes before exhaustion began to overcome her.
—I can pull off this street and take another direction —the driver suggested, leaning forward slightly as he observed the congested avenue—. It is a rugged path and much longer, but it could give us an advantage.
A bolt of lightning tore through the sky, dazzling Delilah's eyes. The aggressive light momentarily illuminated the vehicle's interior, as if it were an omen of how impossible it would be to escape that stalemate. Without pausing to think, she responded in a low voice:
—Please, take that path.
The driver nodded and diverted as soon as he found an opening. Even so, Delilah's somber expression did not vanish. It wasn't the delay of the appointment that dominated the void within her; the rain simply intensified the affliction weighing upon her heart.
When the car took the new route, Delilah leaned her gaze against the slightly fogged window. The sky roared with violence, pulling her away from her thoughts and quickening her breath. In that instant, her eyes caught a slender silhouette moving among the shadows: a figure that seemed to dance under the rain, like a water sprite lost among the dark streets of a cluster of abandoned buildings.
It was a woman... one she thought she recognized.
Delilah instinctively denied the possibility that crossed her mind and looked again. But the figure had already vanished into the desolate streets.
Suddenly, the automobile came to a halt.
Several uniformed men quickly surrounded the vehicle. Delilah had only been visiting the Bathory house for a short time, but she didn't need much experience to recognize the diamond insignia embroidered on the dark blue uniforms of the security detail. One of them pulled the door open abruptly, letting the rain rush in violently.
—The road is blocked —he announced in a firm voice—. Get out of the car.
A man extended his hand toward Delilah to help her descend. As soon as her feet touched the wet ground, a massive umbrella opened over her, shielding her from the storm. Without giving her time to react, they escorted her toward one of the nearby dark buildings to shelter her while they conducted an inspection. Although the men insisted on searching the car's interior, they remained courteous despite the awkwardness of the situation.
—I am taking Miss Delilah to the main mansion —the driver explained with evident nervousness—. She has an invitation from Young Master Andrea.
The guard observed him with a serious expression before responding:
—I have orders from Wilhelm to guard the area. The Master's visit should only happen if there are no problems.
Surprise reflected immediately on the driver's face. Wilhelm was already a priority in his own right, but mentioning the Master complicated matters even further. He deeply regretted taking that shortcut. While this entire expanse belonged to the Bathory family, he never imagined he would end up interfering with the Master's path.
Meanwhile, Delilah watched her surroundings with growing unease. Assuming the wait would be long, she let out a resigned sigh. She walked slowly in circles under the protection of the umbrella until a distant noise among the dark hallways caught her attention.
The abandoned buildings were half-demolished, and the atmosphere was hauntingly silent. She had no idea what the security group was doing there. She looked around with a certain indiscretion; hearing a noise didn't seem strange in such a place, but she still approached a corner cautiously to peek around.
Then she saw her.
Her eyes once again found that female figure who had previously crossed the street in the rain. This time, she couldn't deny it: she recognized that fine, precious face. She held her breath for several seconds. Her eyes, which usually seemed expressionless, shined with surprise, opening slightly wider than usual.
Marquise Lathasha?
The calm she felt upon recognizing the magnificent woman quickly transformed into another sensation: the certainty that her presence in that place had to remain a secret.
Amidst the shadows of the solitary, near-ruined corridors, the redhead slowly raised her slender index finger and pressed it against her lips, asking for silence. After a brief moment, she simply faded away into the dark buildings.
That mysterious behavior had no immediate explanation. Delilah was only beginning to ponder it when a presence suddenly appeared behind her. Firm arms wrapped around her naturally, pulling her away from the corner and back into the shelter of the building.
It was Neil.
Delilah had no time to react and found herself enveloped in the warm arms of the heir of House Bathory.
—Try not to look so surprised —he murmured near her ear, with an almost amused calm.
Asking her for serenity in a mere second was asking too much. Neil's ruthless proximity left Delilah's mind completely blank.
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