AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What will you do?” he asked, somehow apprehensively. Was he wondering if I would be left alone with Adrian?
“I’ll go see what Cass is up to,” I shrugged. “We spent the afternoon in the attic yesterday.” The memory made me smile. I actually had more fun than I thought I would. Once again, Cass’ reasoning won me over.
“The attic?” he frowned. “Why would you spend the whole afternoon there?”
“For fun,” I explained, my cheerfulness returning at the thought of having another fun afternoon with Cass. This time, however, Adrian would be joining us, as per my father’s orders. That realization made me feel almost giddy. It was difficult to stifle that feeling. A part of me didn’t even want to, but I didn’t want to seem all that ecstatic in front of Luke, because then I would have to explain myself.
“Well, enjoy yourselves,” he told me with a still slightly awkward smile, but at least he wasn’t asking any more questions.
“We’ll come check on you a bit later,” I waved as I opened the door and let myself out.
As I thought, Adrian was there, leaning out through the window opposite the door. He turned around when he heard the door.
“Where to now?” he asked.
I inhaled with a smile. “The attic.”
Chapter Fourteen
Adrian
“Well, she won’t be joining us,” Lilith told me after she exited her sister’s room, several minutes later. “She says she’s got a bit of a headache and she wants to lie down a little.”
“Do you still want to go?” I asked. I couldn’t see the appeal in spending hours in a stuffy, dusty, cobweb infested attic.
“Yes,” she nodded. “Is that OK?”
I shrugged. “It’s your call.”
During the day, we could go out into the garden, but it seemed that she preferred nighttime for that. Or maybe it was the fact that it was forbidden which appealed to her so much. Whatever the reason, she didn’t want to go outside now. Instead, she wanted to go to the attic.
“Well, you have to be there with me,” she reminded me of something I already knew. “I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do.”
I appreciated it, but I didn’t say it out loud. It was better to remain distant from her. I already shared the story of my parents, which was crossing the line of professionalism. I wasn’t supposed to have done that. But there was no use in crying over spilt milk. From here on, we had to remain on professional terms, without getting closer. I felt that spending the afternoon up in the attic, where one could find old, personal stuff was exactly the opposite of what I wanted to achieve here. But telling her no was something I couldn’t do and that wasn’t good.
“My job is to follow you where you go,” I reminded her as well. “So… lead the way.” I gestured at her with my hand.
She smiled, heading for the west wing of the castle. We walked silently, passing by several rushed servants. The entirecastle was still in a high alert state, especially after we shared with the king that we were attacked last night.
Finally, we reached the entrance to the attic. We proceeded to lower the ladder, and she climbed first, then I followed. The quiet solitude of the attic felt comforting.
It was a repository of memories, a sanctuary for relics of bygone eras. Aged trunks, their leather weathered and cracked, lined the walls, holding secrets within their worn exteriors. The scent of aged paper and antique wood permeated the air, evoking a sense of nostalgia and stories untold. Dust particles danced in the streams of sunlight. Yellowed books stood upon sagging shelves, their spines cracked and pages tinged with age.
A collection of forgotten objects adorned the attic’s nooks and crannies. Antique furniture, adorned with intricate carvings, whispered stories of gatherings and cherished moments. Vintage toys lay scattered across a weathered rocking chair, remnants of childhoods long gone. The attic’s only inhabitants—moth-eaten stuffed animals and dusty porcelain dolls—presided over their kingdom of memories, their glassy eyes seemingly filled with longing.
Windows, adorned with tattered lace curtains, offered glimpses of the world beyond the attic’s confines. Ivy tendrils climbed the glass, a testament to nature's relentless desire to reclaim the forgotten spaces of human existence. Time seemed suspended here, the walls around us resonating with the whispers of generations past. It was a place of silent musing, of comfort. It was a shelter. I could see now why she wanted to come back here.
I stood in the corner quietly, observing Lilith as she traversed this place, her delicate fingers lightly brushing against the forgotten artifacts. I could sense her curiosity, her yearning for something yet unknown, driving her to explore this place, when she could not explore the outside world.
Her steps were soft and deliberate, as if each movement held the weight of anticipation. She seemed to walk without touching the ground, her green dress trailing behind her. It hugged her curves perfectly, as she swayed through the curtain of dusty particles in the air. She examined the aged trunks, running her fingers along their weathered edges, as if seeking a clue to unravel a long-forgotten mystery.
At that moment, I longed to be that trunk, to feel her fingers on my body, and my own fingers on hers. Desire overtook me so suddenly, so unexpectedly that I was barely able to catch my breath. If I kissed her here, no one would hear us, no one would interrupt us. But I didn’t dare do anything. We already crossed the line once. We couldn’t afford another mistake. It might lead to disaster.
So, I just watched silently, as the sunlight caressed her face, casting a warm glow upon her features, accentuating the beauty of her eyes. Her gaze shifted from one object to another, her touch tracing the contours of antique furniture and lingering on faded photographs of people I doubted even she recognized. Each encounter seemed to evoke a subtle spark within her, a connection to the past that stirred her spirit.
At that moment, she gazed out of the dusty window, her voice filled with contemplation and wonder. “Isn’t life strange?” she asked aloud, and I wasn’t sure if she was asking me, or merely thinking to herself.
“Strange how?” I asked for clarification, although I could venture a good guess where she was heading with this.
