Chapter 23

The moon, a luminous pearl in the velvet cloak of night, cast an ethereal glow upon the castle grounds. A cool breeze stirred the leaves, whispering a promise of approaching winter. Aurelia, bundled in a surprisingly warm cloak , navigated the familiar path. An unsettling tranquility had settled over her recent days. Treated more like a forgotten guest than a slave, her duties were nonexistent, her meals surprisingly abundant. She'd even glimpsed the King on a few occasions, a distant and brooding figure who seemed to vanish as quickly as he appeared, much to her gladness, she didn't wish to be near the king, for now.

Lost in contemplation, Aurelia rounded a corner a bit too sharply and collided with a figure as immovable as a suit of armor. A startled gasp escaped her lips, dying in her throat as she looked up. Towering above her stood a man, his face as stoic as a marble statue. Handsome features were marred by a jagged scar that ran along the underside of his left eye, adding a touch of danger to his already imposing presence. His gaze, dark and intense, seemed to bore into her very soul.

Aurelia cursed her clumsiness internally. Why did she seem to have a talent for attracting collisions? Just days ago, it had been the infuriating Lady Cecilia. Now, fate had thrown this intimidating stranger in her path.

Usually, her sharp wit and sarcastic tongue would have sprung into action, a defense mechanism honed during her time in her aunt's manor. But faced with this man's unwavering gaze and the undeniable power he exuded, Aurelia found herself strangely tongue-tied.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she managed a curtsey, her voice barely a whisper. "My sincerest apologies, sir. I… I wasn't paying attention."

The silence stretched on, thick with tension. Would this enigmatic stranger accept her apology, or would she face some unforeseen punishment for her clumsiness? Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the stifling quiet.

The air crackled with unspoken tension as Aurelia and the stranger locked eyes. Neither blinked, their gazes locked in a silent duel. Aurelia's breath hitched in her throat. Just when she considered breaking the suffocating silence with another apology, a booming voice shattered the stillness.

"Azzy?" the voice boomed, tinged with amusement.

Aurelia whipped her head around, relief washing over her like a wave. There, a few paces away, stood Lord Leviathan. He was dressed in a simple yet elegant grey outfit.

'Azzy?' Aurelia repeated silently, her brow furrowing in surprise....Lord Azrael. The enigmatic stranger before her was Lord Azrael, the elusive Lord of the North. The North, with its snow-capped mountains and unforgiving terrain, was a stark contrast to the lush, fertile lands of the South. Aurelia couldn't help but wonder if the harshness of the land had mirrored itself in Lord Azrael's personality – cold, stoic, and utterly captivating in his own way.

Leviathan strode closer, his smile widening as he met Aurelia's gaze. "Hello, love," he purred, his voice a honeyed drawl. A hint of amusement danced in his eyes. He added, "Having a late-night stroll, aren't we? Developing a penchant for… nightly doings, are we?"

Aurelia, her lips pursed in a silent apology, offered a quick curtsy to Leviathan. Lord Azrael, however, remained stubbornly planted in front of her, his imposing presence casting a long shadow in the moonlight.

Leviathan's gaze flicked between them, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Don't worry, love," he said, his voice light. "Azzy may look like he could curdle milk with a single glare, but he's not so bad once you get to know him… well, as bad as he gets, anyway."

Aurelia couldn't help but offer a cryptic reply. "Oh, I see, milord," she replied, her voice laced with a subtle undercurrent of defiance.

Leviathan, ever perceptive, picked up on the nuance in her tone. He glanced at Azrael, who stood ramrod straight, his gaze fixed on a point beyond Aurelia's shoulder. There was an unspoken tension between the two Lords, a subtle power dynamic that piqued Aurelia's curiosity.

Just as Leviathan seemed on the verge of saying something more, he reached out, his hand seemingly aiming for Azrael's shoulder in a casual gesture. However, before his touch could land, Azrael abruptly moved away. His movement was swift, almost predatory, as he strode past them both and continued down the moonlit path.

Leviathan's hand hung awkwardly in mid-air for a moment. He recovered quickly, though, offering Aurelia an apologetic smile. "Well, that was…" he began, trailing off as he ran a hand through his hair in a display of uncharacteristic awkwardness.

Aurelia couldn't help but suppress a flicker of amusement at Leviathan's flustered state. The ever-confident Lord of the South, momentarily thrown off balance by Lord Azrael's brusque behavior, was a sight she hadn't anticipated.

"Unorthodox, perhaps," she offered, a hint of a playful smile gracing her lips.

Leviathan chuckled, a dry, self-deprecating sound. "Perhaps," he conceded. "But that's Azrael for you. A man of few words and even fewer… well, physical expressions of camaraderie."

He took a deep breath, seemingly composing himself. "Anyway," he continued, his voice regaining its usual smoothness, "you should probably head back inside. The castle guards wouldn't be too thrilled to find a servant wandering the grounds at night."

Aurelia inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Of course, milord," she replied, the hint of a smirk still playing on her lips.

As Leviathan turned away, his silhouette fading into the night, Aurelia watched him go. A sigh escaped her lips, a mixture of amusement and frustration.

Clutching her cloak tighter against the growing chill, she glanced down at the cobblestone path. A single, smooth stone lay at her feet, a stark contrast to the rough, uneven ground. Absentmindedly, she nudged it with the toe of her shoe, sending it rolling away into the darkness.

With a resolute nod, Aurelia took a confident step forward, disappearing into the dark embrace of the castle.