The moonlight caught on the edges of the room as Cyra slipped out quietly, his steps were soft on the cool marble. The estate was silent, the kind of stillness only money could buy… vast grounds and not a neighbor in sight. The perfect privacy.
He crossed the hall, passing tall windows that framed the sprawling gardens below, then descended down the staircase. The back door opened out to a generous courtyard.
Pale gravel pathways curled like veins through meticulously trimmed hedges. A moonlight fountain gleamed like silver coins tossed into dark water.
Cyra shoved his hands in his pockets as he followed one of the winding paths. It had been awhile since he had walked to Natalia's and even longer since he had a stroll through the garden. He thought of Clara and wondered if she would like it to see it.
Tall, standing coach lanterns flickered softly along the trail, their light casting long shadows of iron gates and ivy-wrapped statues. The air smelled faintly of jasmine, carried by a lazy September breeze.
The farther he walked, the quieter it became, until the mansion's glow was a distant silhouette. Ahead, a smaller building was coming into view, a modern glass suite tucked away among towering oaks, private and almost hidden.
Natalia's world.
Cyra rapped his knuckles lightly against the dark wood of her door. The sound was swallowed instantly, like the house itself absorbed every bit of noise.
He waited.
No answer.
With a faint smirk tugging at his lips, he tried the handle. It wasn't locked. Typical.
.
The door swung open into a world nothing like his.
Natalia's suite was all sharp edges and understated opulence: polished concrete floors softened by dark Persian rugs. Her walls were painted a deep charcoal that drank in the light. The room smelled faintly of sandalwood and something floral he couldn't quite place.
The centerpiece was a velvet emerald couch that glimmered like a jewel beneath a black steel chandelier, its arms were round and regal, perfectly tailored like a designer suit. Behind it, shelves of books lined the walls, the spines arranged with mathematical precision.
And there, draped across the couch like a queen's shadow, was a cat.
It was a slim and silky black, a single white stripe painting its chest like it spilled cream on itself. Its green eyes fixed on him with disdain, as if Cyra were an uninvited guest here.
Cyra froze mid-step. "You have a cat? "
"Of course," Natalia's voice floated from somewhere behind him.
He turned to find her emerging from a hallway, barefoot, in an ash colored robe. Her midnight hair—always perfectly sleek—was tied in a low knot.
She moved in a kind of grace that made even silence seem deliberate.
"You never mentioned a cat," Cyra said.
"You never asked." Her accent, a lilting remnant of her childhood, clipped her words into sharp edges. She padded past him and bent to scratch behind the cat's ear. The creature purred like a machine.
Cyra shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. He'd been here before but Natalia's world always felt like stepping into another life entirely. She revealed herself in curated layers, and he had learned long ago not to ask questions she didn't want to answer.
"I didn't take you for a cat person. Or… any living thing for that matter."
"No, actually that's just you." She smiled, still stroking the feline lovingly.
"Is the jeweler done with the moon gem?" he asked finally, sinking into an armchair across from her.
Natalia straightened, her hand still resting lightly on the cat's back. "Almost. One more day, maybe two. He said… this stone, it fights him. Like it is alive."
Cyra arched a brow. "That's reassuring."
She smirked faintly, settling into the emerald couch like a queen reclaiming her throne. The cat stretched luxuriously across her lap, tail flicking lazily.
For a moment, silence filled the space again, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
Natalia's home hummed softly, the dim lights glinting off brass fixtures and the smooth, black marble coffee table between them. Cyra leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
Natalia's gaze flicked up, sharp. "For what?"
"For burdening you. I know the last few days have been… a lot." His hand flexed as if searching for the right words. "You've been juggling everything. Clara. Me. All the chaos I bring. I should have done better to—"
"You stop." Her voice cut through his apology like a knife. She sat straighter, her eyes narrowing.
"You think I do not choose? I am not… how you say… trapped here. I'm not a prisoner."
Cyra frowned, but Natalia's expression didn't waver but her words were careful.
"I take care because I want to," she said firmly. "You are… family." The word landed heavy in the quiet room, accented and deliberate.
Something tightened in Cyra's chest. He gave her a slow nod. "Still. I appreciate it. More than I say."
Natalia inclined her head, a graceful acknowledgment. "Good. Then you stop apologizing. Waste of breath."
A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. "Fair enough."
The cat jumped down suddenly, gliding toward Cyra with noiseless steps. It rubbed against his shin like they'd been friends for years.
Natalia smirked faintly. "She likes you."
Cyra crouched, scratching behind the cat's ear.
"She does not like anyone," Natalia said, leaning back into her couch. "So… consider this a compliment."
Cyra chuckled quietly, scooping the cat into his arms. "What's her name?"
Natalia hesitated, her gaze softening for just a moment. "Zvezda," she said. "It means star."
"Fitting," Cyra murmured, stroking the silky fur. The white splotch did resemble a star. The sparkling kind, the type that are drawn in night skies.
The moment stretched, quiet but warm. Natalia studied him from across the low table, her dark eyes reflecting the golden chandelier light.
"Emily sent me a list of potential hires," Cyra said finally, voice steady. "We'll have someone to take things off your plate soon."
"Good," Natalia replied simply, though her fingers smoothed the couch cushion absentmindedly. "But… I don't actually mind too much."
"I know." He met her gaze, steady. "That's why I do."
Natalia's lips tugged into something between a smirk and a smile, but she didn't reply.
The cat leapt lightly from his arms and padded back to her throne on the couch.
Natalia resumed stroking its fur, her slender fingers precise and elegant.
"You stay too long," she said finally, though her tone was softer than the words.
"Go. Sleep. Tomorrow, you will be chaos again, I'm sure of it."
Cyra chuckled low in his chest, rising from his seat. "Fair enough. Goodnight, Natalia."
"Goodnight, Cyra," she said, her accent curling around his name like a blessing.
As he stepped out into the night, the soft click of the door behind him felt like the world closing back around Natalia, sealing away her and all of her secrets.