The photos and videos of Killian carrying me in his arms went viral worldwide. It wasn't just because of the rescue and his romantic words that made women faint and men swoon, but because one of the images is a literal masterpiece: his tux torn from the accident, and me clinging to him in that gorgeous dress that became an overnight icon. No one is talking about anything else.
But you, my dearest soulmate, are the only one who will ever know what happened next. Like movie stars, we were trapped by thousands of onlookers blocking our way, so an armored security car had to pick us up right at the corner. Those guards are never too far away, yet they never let themselves be seen.
The Tower and dinner at the Ritz restaurant would have to wait. I needed to calm down; a car accident is my absolute worst nightmare—you already know why. We headed back to London Castle. Killian was a total gentleman, as always, staying by my side in an armchair until I drifted off; the sheer terror of the moment had left me exhausted. Before I closed my eyes, we promised each other we'd have our final date another time.
I told him, "When we get back to Longfield, I'm leaving. All of this is just too much for me. But down the road, when this is nothing more than an old story... if you're still thinking of me, come find me, and we'll have that date. I love you."
He smiled. I was so weak that I needed his help to slip out of the dress and into my pajamas. I woke up in my bed, tucked in from head to toe. Killian was right beside me, with bruises blossoming across his waist, back, and legs. I kissed every single one of those wounds born of love, and then I kissed his hands.
I changed into a pair of jeans and a white blouse and left him sleeping, determined to find Margot Robbins. I had to tell her that there was something strange happening to me too. It wasn't just a vision; it was a profound certainty about the future. I knew I would leave the Longfields, but I also knew Killian would come searching for me. I found her in the antique weapons room, staring out the window as if she had been waiting for me all along. I poured my heart out, adding, "It's not a wish, it's an absolute certainty. I just saw him sleeping, and I know it. Do you understand? Killian is going to be my husband. I have something strange inside me, don't I? Is there something wrong with me? You can tell me. Maybe I'm like you, or maybe I'm just going crazy."
She lifted her chin, her tone turning stern as she asked, "Do you see dead people?"
When I shook my head, she visibly relaxed. "Then what you're experiencing is just the aftershock of the accident. It was a moment of pure panic for you. The future isn't set in stone; it can change. Believe me, if you had gifts like mine, you would know it. Seeing spirits is no joke. Remember, don't breathe a word of this to the masters of the house."
I headed straight for the kitchen, feeling calmer and suddenly starving. An elderly, white-haired gentleman politely shooed me out and asked me to take a seat in the breakfast room, insisting he was there to serve me. He had a kind face and a nametag on his uniform that read Alexander.
When I walked in, I found Lucius sipping coffee. He held a print newspaper, and our photo with Killian was splashed right across the front page. I greeted him with a kiss, but he seemed irritated, asking, "Are you alright? Clearly you are. Whose bright idea was it to go strolling through London anyway? Now the entire world knows we're here."
I didn't answer. It put me in a terrible mood that he was implying we had done something wrong. Sensing it immediately, he clarified, "If you really wanted to see London, you should have spoken to me."
Just like that, my anger melted into tenderness. Was he jealous? I certainly wanted to believe so. I teased, "Where would you have taken me? Come on, tell me."
He replied, "We can still go if you want. Unlike my brother, I actually know how to blend into a crowd. At dusk, I'll take you to The Shard skyscraper; there's a bar on the observation deck 245 meters up. We'll grab a drink like two normal people. And, of course, I have a suite a few floors below... but we'll see how well you behave."
He spoke with such absolute authority over me that I blushed. I warned him, "I don't want to risk going out after what I went through yesterday. Besides, since we have this beautiful palace at our disposal, let's have our farewell date right here. I'm perfectly content with just the two of us talking on the balcony—the big one overlooking the gardens. A glass of wine, and please, I beg of you! If this is the last time we're going to see each other, I don't want even a hint of bad blood between us. My mind is made up. I'll always miss you, and you know it. But tonight could live forever in our memories."
He set the newspaper down and smiled. "Alright, little girl. It's a promise."
Alexander walked in carrying a tray piled high with everything you could possibly want in a full English breakfast. Lucius looked up at him. "Mr. Robbins, Carmilla and I will be having drinks tonight on the observatory balcony. Please ensure everything we need is set up there."
He assured us he would take care of it, and I asked, "Excuse me, Alexander, are you and Miss Margot Robbins related?"
His expression turned solemn. He bowed his head, offered a clipped "Yes," and promptly excused himself.
Lucius turned to me. "You've probably already heard the rumors. Don't pay them any mind; it's just one of the hundreds of ghost stories these old castles have. Margot Robbins was his mother. She died when she was only thirty, from pneumonia, I believe. They gave Alexander the position the moment he turned fifteen to keep the family tradition alive. The Robbins family has always served in this house. But the stories linger because, according to local gossip, Margot was one of those spiritualists who spoke to the dead. Legend says you can still see her wandering the castle. But it's all nonsense, obviously. She and every other Robbins who ever worked here are buried beneath the oak tree on the side of the gardens."
I went entirely pale. It's not every day you realize you've been chatting with a woman who has been dead for decades. In that exact moment, it clicked: there is something different about me. Maybe it stems from my childhood, or from the books I used to devour back at Mary Garden that opened my mind to imaginary romances and journeys. Or maybe my biological mother had a bit of a witch or a medium in her. Whatever the case, I was never stepping foot in that weapons room again—not now that I knew. It terrified me.
Killian came down to join us for breakfast. He kissed me squarely on the mouth right in front of his brother, then asked, "Last day in London. We leave early tomorrow. Any plans for today?"
Lucius told him that I had a date with him tonight. Killian smirked, gesturing toward the photo in the newspaper. "It's time for you to throw in the towel. See this? The public loves us. I just saw a poll: Carmilla and I are meant to be. Eighty-seven percent of the people say yes. I'm sorry, but it's time you accept your defeat, little brother."
Lucius smiled faintly. "She loves me, and she loves you too. Imagine what people will say when they find out she's leaving us both anyway. Face reality, brother: tomorrow, when we say goodbye to her, you and I will be in the exact same boat."
Once breakfast was over, the brothers left for a virtual conference with their father, and I decided to visit Margot's grave. There was a small photograph embedded in the marble tombstone. Yes, there was no doubt about it—it was her. I whispered a brief prayer for her soul.
For my night with Lucius, I chose a pink blouse that fits me beautifully and a short black skirt that shows off my legs. I could still feel a lingering resentment in him because I'm leaving them behind.
The balcony holds two massive telescopes, but the night is completely overcast, leaving the lenses blind. It's a shame; I'd never used one before.
Lucius wore a light blue shirt and dark tailored trousers. He looked breathtakingly handsome. He wore a black watch that looked like an antique, and his cologne completely intoxicated me; there was no escape. We poured ourselves some wine and sat close together on one of the oversized green leather sofas, surrounded by embroidered cushions.
His gaze was lost in the distance, but the heavy warmth of his hand on my shoulder told me he wanted me as close as possible. I gently turned his face toward mine. "Hey, look at me. Come on, look at me. What we had was real, wasn't it? You'll always be a part of me. You were my very first kiss. I still tremble when I remember how you turned off the lights in the grand hall, and I felt your beautiful lips on mine. It was romantic, it was impulsive... it was magic."
He whispered, "I need to talk to you seriously. I have to marry Sarah, the president's daughter. My father believes that now, with the entire world's eyes on me, it's the perfect time to make the move and chart my own course toward the presidency. That means only one thing: I will be consumed night and day for the next few years. I'm letting you go, Carmilla. I would never drag you into a life where you can't be the main character. No one has the right—not even me—to relegate my girl to second place. Be happy with whoever you choose. I only ask that tonight, you be mine one last time."
My eyes welled with tears. A single teardrop escaped and rolled down my cheek. He caught it with his finger, pressing it onto the crystal face of his watch, and then, as if it were a drop of the rarest perfume, he smeared it across his neck.
I didn't answer; he didn't need me to. He knows he can possess me with nothing more than the sound of my breathing. I undid the top button of my blouse and stood up, inviting him to dance, just like we had practiced that night—the night he kissed me. He understood. There was no music, but we didn't need any. I began to hum the waltz, and Lucius drew me tight against his body. Before he did, he rested his finger against my neckline, parting my shirt to gaze down at my breasts, keeping his eyes anchored there for most of the dance. As the steps wound down, he held me flush against him, letting me feel the undeniable heat of his manhood. Unable to hold back any longer, I whispered for him to kiss me one last time.
He leaned in close to my lips, stopping a mere fraction of an inch away. "No, no, little girl," he murmured. "You know very well that I'm the one in charge here, and you obey. You will never forget what I'm about to do to you."