Whispers of a sinful heart
Night had settled deep into the palace when Mira finished placing the dirty laundry in the washroom. The corridors were quieter at this hour, lit only by low-burning sconces that cast long shadows against stone walls.
She was halfway down the hall when she saw him.
Cassian was approaching from the opposite direction.
Her steps faltered for half a second before she lowered her gaze and continued forward, intent on passing him as though he were nothing more than another shadow. Almost—almost—she made it, but his hand closed around her wrist.
Mira gasped as she was pulled back, spinning into him before instinctively wrenching herself away. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
“Your Highness,” she said quickly, already tugging at her wrist but he did not release her.
“This is so annoying,” he muttered under his breath.
She blinked, irritation flaring through her nerves.
“What?” The word came out louder than she intended.
Cassian’s gaze sharpened. “Why have you been avoiding me, Mira?”
Her eyes flicked over his shoulder, scanning the corridor. Anyone could appear at any moment. Ignoring his question, she said instead, “Someone might see us like this. Rumors would spread—and I doubt that’s something you’d welcome, Your Highness.”
His eyes narrowed at how she refused to use his name and instead used the title.
Cassian’s jaw tightened. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled her toward the nearest door. Before she could protest, he tugged her inside and locked it behind them.
Her back met the wood with a soft thud.
Letting go of her wrist, he planted his palm against the door beside her head, caging her in. The space between them vanished.
“I asked you something,” he said quietly. “Answer me.”
The closeness made her dizzy. His presence pressed in on her senses—heat, restraint, something darkly familiar. Her breath came shallow.
“What—no, I haven't.” she stammered.
Cassian leaned closer. “You know I don’t like it when people lie to me”
Her palms dampened and she turned her face away.
“What do you want me to say?” she whispered. “I should be going. The head maid won’t be pleased if I’m missing.”
She tried to push past him again but he didn't move.
Frustration snapped something inside her. The words slipped out before she could stop them.
“Lady Catherine wouldn’t be pleased if she knew about this, now if you please.."
Cassian stilled, his gaze dropping to her face. Her green eyes flickered—betraying something sharp and unguarded before she could hide it.
“Is she the reason why you've been avoiding me?” he asked softly.
“It doesn’t matter,” Mira said, her voice tight. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”
She tried again to push him away.
This time, his free hand slid to her waist, firm, unyielding. He leaned down until his forehead rested against hers, their breaths tangling.
“It does matter,” he murmured.