The Next Morning...
"Hi, Ian…"
Julian didn't have to turn to know who it was. That familiar heartbeat. The one that echoed like his own but laced with laughter and light—a version of himself he barely remembered, trapped in the form of a girl.
"Seraphine," he murmured, slowly turning. "It's quite early to be up."
Seraphine grinned as she walked across the dewy garden, robe billowing slightly in the morning breeze. "Says the one who never sleeps," she teased.
Julian didn't respond. His gaze flicked to the sky, quiet and brooding.
She sat beside him on the stone balustrade, legs swinging softly. "You never talk in the mornings, do you?"
Still no response.
Seraphine sighed dramatically, but her voice remained light. "It's alright. I talk enough for both of us."
Julian's lip twitched into a faint smirk, a gesture barely there. That alone made her beam—her small victories meant more than grand battles.
Just then, a servant walked past. The same one from yesterday.
Seraphine's heart skipped.
Julian noticed.
The air between them grew still.
"Don't get attached to things that break, Sera," he said suddenly, his voice low but cutting. It was the first full sentence he'd spoken all morning.
She looked at him.
"Why?" she whispered.
"Because…" he turned to the garden now, his back to her. "They break. And they expire."
Silence fell again.
"I'm worried, Ian…" she said softly, voice trembling just slightly. "He's a good friend. Not like the sons of those lords…parading like proud peacocks."
Julian chuckled under his breath. "Not that I care."
He took a few steps toward the west wing, then paused.
"…As much as your laughter and jolliness taunt me," he whispered, "I cannot bear to see you in tears… or to watch you become cold like myself."
She heard it. Every word. Her vampire ears caught what his pride tried to muffle.
Later That Night...
Seraphine couldn't sleep.
She paced her chambers barefoot, dressed in her nightgown, heart restless. The moonlight filtered in through the high arched windows.
Her heart pulled her feet like strings to the garden.
And there he lay—Morris.
Bathed in moonlight, skin pale and warm, hair tousled and chest rising steadily with sleep. He looked peaceful. Almost beautiful.
She didn't want to wake him… but she couldn't help herself.
"Morris…" she whispered.
His eyes flew open, startled. Then relaxed.
"Hi, Sera…"
"Hi, Morris."
He sat up, his eyes darting around nervously. "Why are you here at this hour? What if someone sees you?"
She shrugged, smiling. "Relax. I just came to say hi."
He rubbed the back of his neck, still uneasy. "I worry, Sera. You shouldn't be seen with me. It's not safe."
"I'm not doing anything wrong," she giggled, trying to lift the mood.
Elsewhere in the Mansion...
Lady Morganna hadn't slept.
She strolled the hall in regal silence, her robes trailing like dark fire. Outside, she paused—three female staff were huddled near the servant's wing, whispering.
"I heard she's always sneaking out to see the human," one said.
"They say they're lovers!" another whispered, eyes wide.
"No, no," the third interjected. "They're just friends. But Lady Morganna's so strict, Seraphine probably has to sneak."
They all laughed—softly.
"Keep your voices down!" one added.
But it was too late.
Lady Morganna stood in the shadows, cold and listening.
She turned… and saw him.
Julian.
Leaning against the staircase pillar, watching lazily. He had heard it all. She saw it in his eyes—he knew.
"You knew," Morganna said coldly, voice low but sharp.
Julian yawned. "Not my business. I'm not Seraphine."
"You allowed it."
"I allow many things," he replied, voice cold as snow.
She glared at him. "That human is on my property."
She turned to the nearest guard. "Summon me the Butler."
The butler, ancient and bone-pale, walked in, bowed. "Good evening, my Lady. Young Lord."
"There is a human on this property," she said, voice like thunder veiled in velvet. "Whoever he is, whatever he does—I don't care. Dispose of him."
"Yes, ma'am."
Julian simply walked away.
In the Garden...
Seraphine laughed softly. Morris chuckled with her.
Then—shadows. Movement. The butler emerged, his presence like a blade of night.
"You have crossed the line, human," he said to Morris. His gaze flicked to Seraphine. "Being with her… was the line."
"What?" Morris stood, panic rising.
"Lady Ravenshade has ordered your execution."
"No!" Seraphine screamed. "You can't—! He's done nothing wrong!"
The butler lunged forward. Seraphine tried to fight, but she was no match. Two guards restrained her.
Lady Morganna walked in, every step calculated and cold. "Take the flea away," she commanded.
Seraphine sobbed, collapsed on her knees.
"You're a Ravenshade," her mother said, eyes unmoved. "Know that!"
She turned and left.
From Afar…
Julian had seen everything. He stood still, fingers curled.
"Foolish girl," he muttered and vanished.
At the Graveyard...
The butler raised Morris by the neck, fangs ready.
Then—darkness.
An aura so fierce it made the air itself tremble.
Julian appeared like a storm clothed in flesh.
The butler froze.
"I will take it from here," Julian said.
"Yes, my Lord," the vampire stammered, stepping back. The butler walked ahead into the night.
A scream echoed as Julian pierced Morris—not to draw blood, but to scare.
Morris fainted.
The Next Morning...
Morris awoke on a small boat, drifting toward the horizon. Across from him sat Julian.
Still. Cold. Silent.
"You're alive," Julian said flatly. "Because of my sister."
Morris blinked, disoriented.
"I can't bear her tears. But you will sail so far… I won't even have to smell your soul again."
Morris nodded, terrified.
Julian handed a letter to a sailor, then vanished.
At the Docks...
Seraphine arrived, eyes puffy, skin pale. She had woken up to a letter from Julian
'at the docks'
Julian stood waiting.
"Did you bring me to see the sea?" she asked, voice bitter. "It won't change how I feel."
"You talk too much."
"Then I'll be quiet," she whispered. "And just head back."
"Sera… Watch carefully. The eyes staring at you from the sea."
She frowned. "What?"
But he wouldn't repeat himself.
She used her sight… scanning…
A braid.
Wait...
Her heart leapt.
The head turned.
"Morris…"
He looked back—sorrow in his eyes.
She almost ran.
"Don't even think about it," Julian said coldly. "Let it go if you really care."
He turned and walked toward the carriage.
The Present...
Seraphine stood by her window, watching Elowen's carriage roll through the town road.
She smiled, bittersweet.
"She isn't fragile," she whispered. "She won't break."