Annalise's POV
His dark blue eyes widened that it was impossible to miss the surprise that flashed across his face at my refusal.
"Well, I mean… not exactly… or rather, I can't give you an answer right now," I stammered, trying to fix my words. "We just met…ish."
"Nice one, Annalise," I muttered to myself, letting out a frustrated exhale.
He raised a brow, the smirk on his lips staying in place, though it shifted a bit darker—amusement laced with a hint of sharpness.
"I understand, Your Grace," he said, his voice smooth, with an edge that didn't quite match his words. "But as much as I'd love to tell you to take your time, we don't have much left."
"I know…" I trailed off, glancing away for a moment. "But I don't know anything about you. Are you a side charac—?" I caught myself before I said something forbidden—something that would reveal more than I should. "I mean, are you related to Vincent…?"
His gaze narrowed. "In many ways, yes. Though I thought you already knew that." His eyes studied me with a sharpness that made my stomach twist.
Shit. I froze. The real Iris would've known all of that. But I had gotten caught up. "Y-Yes," I muttered, my voice barely a whisper.
He smirked, clearly noticing my discomfort, and said nothing for a long beat. The silence between us felt too heavy, too tense, but I pushed through and frankly I already had enough.
"How long do you think we've been hiding here?" I asked, changing the subject, though it didn't seem to ease the unease creeping up my spine.
He looked around, as though only just realizing the time. "I'm not sure. But we've been talking long enough. He may have given up—or moved further away."
I nodded, trying to seem calm, but my mind was racing.
"Do you want to leave?" he asked, his voice like velvet, but there was something in it—something that made me hesitate.
I hesitated, then nodded. "Y-Yes… my feet hurts"
"Alright then…" His lips curled into a smile, dark and knowing. "I'll step out first. But before I do, we need to come to an agreement… about our little conversation." His eyes held mine, his stare piercing as if he could see through every thought running through my head
"Yeah about that…"
"It's okay… I'll give you a few days to think about it. I shall visit you at the moon palace in a few days to hear your answer." He continued.
"Okay…"
The man reached for a lever and pulled it and slowly the walls split apart to the side and a stream of sunlight flooded in the dark cave revealing his pale skin and dark hair.
He reached for a lever on the wall, pulling it. Slowly, the walls began to split apart, and a rush of sunlight flooded the dark space, revealing his pale skin and dark hair.
He stepped outside, the soft echo of his shoes filling the quiet hall. He gestured at me to stay, his eyes scanning the area for Vincent.
My breath hitched at the thought of seeing Vincent again, but my gaze fell back to the man in front of me.
As he stepped fully into the hallway, I took a small step closer, against his earlier orders, wanting to see his face more clearly. His side profile was enough to steal the air from my lungs.
His sharp features seemed almost carved by angels—an ethereal beauty that made the room spin.
He turned to face me fully, and his hauntingly beautiful blue eyes locked onto mine, their depth unnerving yet captivating.
I suddenly realized that the darkness hadn't hidden his presence; it had only magnified it.
Before that moment, I thought Vincent, the hero of the novel, was the most handsome man in the kingdom, but this stranger? This man—he made Vincent look like a shadow in comparison.
His face was so striking, so flawless, it was as though it had been sculpted by gods.
I stood there, staring, frozen in place. A strange warmth washed over me, one that made my heart flutter in my chest like I hadn't felt since I was a teenager, devouring romance novels and blushing at the simplest, sweetest moments. "What the hell?"
"Are you alright?" His voice broke through my thoughts, grounding me, but also pulling me deeper into the moment.
"Uh—uh, yes… yes, I'm fine," I stammered, my face flushing with embarrassment. "Shit, I must have been staring like a fool."
"I hear Vincent's voice in the direction of his office," he continued smoothly, the teasing edge in his voice unmistakable. "I suggest you go the other way. I'll handle him."
"Alright…" I muttered, adjusting my gown as I moved.
He reached for my left hand, lifting it gently to his face, and bowed slightly. "I await your answer, Your Grace," he said, his low voice sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes glinted with mischief, a hint of something more—something dangerous, but undeniably enticing—before he let go of my hand.
I was left speechless, my heart racing, my mind a swirl of emotions. He had me completely off guard, and now, for a moment, I didn't even know how to breathe.
He turned to leave, but before he could go, my voice slipped out, calling after him. "Wait."
He stopped in his tracks, turning to look at me, confusion flickering across his features. "Is something wrong, Your Grace?"
"I just… wanted to thank you. For helping me… Sir… Sir…" I trailed off, pretending to forget his name so he would say it.
"It's Atlas, Your Grace. No need to thank me." His voice was soft but held an edge, as if he knew more than he let on. He turned back toward the direction he was heading.
My heart pounded in my chest, the warmth creeping up my neck as I watched his figure move further away. The spot his soft lips touched on my arm burned with a cozy warmth. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more about him.