With the smooth motion of the car, Delilah lost herself in the silence of the atmosphere while staring at the opaque window from inside the vehicle. Her expression was cold, even in repose. That distance painfully confused the Count's son, to the point of making him believe that his presence made her uncomfortable… as if she were resentful for not having been taken home by Andrea.
They hadn't seen each other in several days, and yet she kept him at bay with that distant personality, ignoring how provocative that indifference was to him. Cain finally broke the silence.
—The youngest Bathory and you seem to get along quite well.
Delilah's heart throbbed against her. However, she feigned being unaffected. Instead of looking at him, she turned her head slightly toward the front.
—Yes.
The response was far too brief. Even for him. Cain knew that was a terrible way to start a conversation, but he also knew how devastated he might end up if he continued down that path. And yet, he didn't stop.
—I suppose that's fine then —he said with a carefully constructed calm—. The consideration he shows toward you is quite notable.
Delilah breathed slowly before responding.
—Andrea is kind. It's easy to feel good by his side… even if I don't know much about him.
Cain turned his face toward her.
—He makes you feel good?
That was not the direction he should have taken if he intended not to expose himself before that deep and poisonous gaze. But the question had already been asked.
—That is… quite interesting.
The pain Delilah felt in her chest was so sharp that for an instant, it was hard to breathe. She refused to look at him even more firmly.
—Is Yuor a good place?
The question sounded so forced it was impossible to ignore. The listless way it was asked made it clear she had no real interest in the answer. Cain, however, responded naturally.
—Yes… it is.
The son of Count Salieri momentarily forgot how wretched his trip had been. Or perhaps he simply decided not to remember it for now. His eyes rested on her again.
—You look frail. Have you been well?
Delilah didn't expect to hear something like that. But she couldn't resort to her usual insolent silence either. Her cheeks flushed slightly, even beneath the pale artificial hue of her skin. She couldn't help but feel ridiculous being placed in that situation.
—There is nothing to worry about.
For Cain, things were never entirely clear when it came to her. But he did know one thing for certain: if Delilah suffered from something… she would never say it openly.
—Even if you say that —he continued softly—, your complexion is different. You don't have to be so indifferent.
He paused briefly before adding:
—After all… I am like an older brother to you.
He dared to say something like that without knowing that, on Delilah's lips, the sensation of that ruthless kiss still persisted. Controlling her expression was not easy. Thinking that all of it had to be forgotten… hidden… was unbearable. Because of this, she hid her face inside the warm coat she wore over her shoulders. Andrea's coat. His scent enveloped her clearly.
—I do not need something like an older brother.
The response was swift. Defensive. That reaction, which was actually a desperate attempt to protect herself, saddened Cain. He wanted to hear more of her voice. The days without seeing her had tortured him more than he was willing to admit. But he also knew that if they continued talking, he would forget even how to breathe.
Delilah closed her eyes as the conversation came to an end. She did not open them again until the car came to a stop after the long journey. For the rest of the trip, Cain also remained in silence. He wished he could catch time in his hands… and prolong it until stopping it completely.
When the vehicle finally halted, Delilah descended first. She said goodbye with a simple bow before heading toward the mansion's entrance. She left him behind.
Cain believed he understood perfectly why she avoided him. But accepting that idea was much harder. Because, instead of indifference… what he felt was something much closer to rejection.
Delilah vanished into the warm light of the entrance. He remained standing, motionless. A bitter expression slowly drew across his face. He reproached himself for saying something as absurd as "older brother." But it was already too late.
—Cain, it's cold out here.
Leroy's voice appeared at his side without him noticing the moment he approached. The blonde offered him a cordial welcome, though he decided to keep to himself the doubts that had just surfaced in his mind. He didn't understand why that man was staring at the mansion's entrance with such a vacant expression.
Behind the Archdukes' son, Lucrecia appeared. Her presence managed to draw a faint smile to Cain's lips. The feeling of loneliness that had been born during the trip, so far from Kevland, began to slowly dissipate.
Finally… he had returned home.
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