They stared at each other for a long time.
The silence stretched, it was thick and tense, broken only by the faint hum of warding formations buried deep within the walls. Mabel stood straight-backed, every instinct sharpened, while Sanè regarded her with an almost lazy calm expression, his crimson eyes glinting faintly beneath his mask.
Finally, Sanè broke the silence.
"You wouldn't stare at me to death, would you… Lady Mabel?"
The sound of her name snapped her back to reality.
Mabel's posture shifted instantly. The brief stillness shattered as her aura tightened, coiling just beneath her skin like a drawn blade. Her hand drifted slightly toward her side, where a weapon would have been if she had not dismissed her armor earlier.
"Who are you," she demanded, her voice was cool but edged with steel, "and why are you in my room?"
Sanè tilted his head slightly, as if considering the question. When he spoke, his tone was unbothered—casual even.
"I just came to see the famous Lady Mabel of the Maverick Clan," he said. "That's all."
Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, searching for lies, for hidden intent. The mask hid his expression, but there was no tremor in his stance, no sign of unease. That alone unsettled her.
While she deliberated in silence, Sanè turned away from her without asking permission and calmly seated himself in one of the chairs near her desk.
Mabel stiffened at his action.
He crossed one leg over the other, relaxed, and let his gaze roam the room.
It was unmistakably regal—high ceilings carved with sigils of protection, dark polished wood furniture inlaid with silver veins, shelves lined with ancient tomes and sealed scrolls. Yet there were softer touches too: pale drapes fluttering gently in the open window, a small vanity near the far wall, and faint traces of floral incense lingering in the air.
The room was powerful.
But it was also personal....girlish, even.
Sanè found that amusing.
For all her reputation as the iron heir of the Maverick Clan, this room reminded him that she was still young....still human.
Still a girl beneath the weight of expectation.
"Well," he said lightly, leaning back, "you're not what I imagined. But not in a bad way."
Mabel's jaw tightened. "You're bold," she said. "Breaking into a clan stronghold and speaking like this."
Sanè shrugged. "If I meant harm, Lady Mabel, every guard I passed would already be dead."
The words were delivered without pride or threat....just fact.
Mabel hated that she knew he was telling the truth.
Her shoulders eased by the smallest fraction. "Then say it plainly," she said. "Why are you really here?"
Sanè rose from the chair.
This time, he didn't answer immediately.
He took a slow step toward her.
Then another.
The distance between them shortened, and Mabel felt her heart beat faster against her ribs. She told herself it was instinct—nothing more. Still, her breath caught slightly as he approached.
"I was curious," Sanè said at last. "Attracted, even."
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"I wanted to see what you looked like," he continued calmly, stopping only a few steps away. "To decide for myself."
"That's—" She faltered, irritation and something else tangling in her chest. "You shouldn't come any closer."
Sanè paused.
For a fleeting moment, amusement flickered through him.
So this was the famed warrior princess....huh
Before he could say anything else, a sharp knock echoed at the door.
Mabel exhaled, grateful and irritated all at once. "What is it?" she called.
A guard answered from the other side, careful not to enter. "My Lady, Young Master Ban of the Skull Family requests an audience."
The name alone soured her expression.
"No," she said immediately. "Tell him I'm preoccupied."
"Yes, my Lady."
Outside the door, Ban Skull stood with his hands folded behind his back, his expression calm—but his senses were alert. He felt it. Another presence inside the room with her. Unfamiliar, controlled and dangerous.
That was why he had come.
Her refusal confirmed his suspicion, yet gave him no leverage. After a brief pause, he turned and walked away, concealing his irritation behind practiced composure.
Inside the room, Sanè had noticed the change in her expression.
"You don't like him," he said.
Before she could answer, he closed the remaining distance.
Mabel stiffened as his fingers gently—but firmly—lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His touch sent a jolt through her, not painful, but unexpected.
He studied her face closely.
"You're beautiful," he said quietly. "From the first time we met, I noticed."
Her breath hitched.
Then, without waiting for her reply, he leaned in and kissed her.
The boldness of it stole her reaction entirely. For a heartbeat, she froze—then pulled back, eyes blazing.
Before she could speak, he kissed her again, slower this time, lingering just long enough to steal her breath.
Immediately catching her breath....she shoved him hard.
"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped, fury flaring as her aura surged.
As she moved, Sanè's fingers brushed the back of her neck.
For an instant, his shadows reacted—thin tendrils of darkness slipping unseen across her skin, tracing the faint black vein pattern hidden there. He felt it clearly.
A foreign influence.
Not hers.
Interesting.....he thought.
Mabel drew back, ready to strike—but Sanè raised a hand, his expression calm as ever.
"Think carefully," he said. "We're alone in here. If you attack me, what do you think the guards will assume?"
Her fury stalled....
He was right—and she hated it.
She forced her aura down, though her eyes remained sharp. "You're infuriating," she said coldly.
Sanè smiled beneath his mask.
"I know."
He stepped back, giving her space at last. "I didn't come just to tease you," he added. "I need supplies and Mounts. Provisions for travel."
"And you thought seducing me was the best way to ask?" she shot back.
"I thought honesty would work," he replied. "I'll pay."
She stared at him, trying to understand what kind of man—or creature—stood before her.
The one who has plagued her dreams.
Is he a threat...a mystery? A complication she did not need?
Yet she could not deny it.
From the moment he appeared, nothing in the room felt simple anymore.