Chapter 65: Shared Silence and Stolen Glances

The heavy bedroom door clicked shut behind them, sealing Verbena and Theodore inside the candlelit chamber. The air felt different now — heavier, charged with something neither of them dared name aloud.

Theodore's cloak still hung loosely over her shoulders, and Verbena could smell his faint cologne mingling with the night air. It was maddening, how even something as simple as his scent made her stomach flutter like a fool in love.

"Sit." Theodore's voice was soft, but it held no room for argument.

Verbena perched at the edge of the bed, her fingers nervously clutching at the silky fabric of her dress. She watched as Theodore loosened the high collar of his banquet attire, the top few buttons undone to reveal a sliver of his chest.

It was unfair, really. The man could stand there silently, and her heart would still trip over itself.

"Your feet must hurt," he said suddenly, kneeling before her.

Her eyes widened. "I— No, they're fine—"

He ignored her protests, gently slipping off her shoes, his fingertips brushing against her ankles with unintentional intimacy. Verbena bit her lip, her pulse pounding in her ears.

"You danced longer than I expected," he murmured, his hands lingering for a moment longer than necessary before he finally set her shoes aside. "I assumed you'd flee the moment you got the chance."

"I…wanted to stay," she admitted quietly, barely believing the words came from her own mouth. "It was… nice."

Theodore's brow arched, that mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Nice? That's all?"

"What else do you want me to say?" she huffed, trying to mask her flustered state.

He leaned closer, his hands bracing on the bed beside her thighs. "I want the truth, Verbena."

The heat in the room shifted, something more intimate and dangerous curling between them. Verbena's throat dried, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her.

"The truth is…" she swallowed hard. "I'm confused."

"About me?"

"About everything," she confessed. "About you, about me, about why I'm here and why…why my heart won't behave when you're close."

A long silence followed. Theodore's expression was unreadable, his dark eyes drinking her in like a mystery he wanted to unravel.

"I told you before," he said softly. "I don't need you to love me, Verbena. But if your heart is going to act up, I deserve to know why."

She exhaled sharply, half-laughing at his bluntness. "You're impossible."

"And you're terribly stubborn," he countered, his hands moving — one to cup her cheek, the other to rest on her waist.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. They simply existed in that shared silence, the tension stretching so thin it might shatter with a whisper.

"If I kiss you now," Theodore's voice was low, his thumb tracing her lower lip, "will you run again?"

Verbena's heart leapt to her throat. Every rational part of her screamed to push him away — to remember her plan, her freedom, her goal. But none of that seemed to matter with him this close.

"No," she whispered.

And so, he kissed her.

It wasn't rough or demanding. It was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to memorize the shape of her lips with his own. Verbena's fingers curled into his shirt, her mind blanking as warmth flooded her senses.

It was a kiss that made no promises — and yet, it held every possibility in the world.

When they finally parted, breathless and unsure, Theodore rested his forehead against hers. "You confuse me too, Verbena."

"Good," she whispered, half-laughing through the lingering heat on her face. "At least we're even."

Neither of them knew what came next — but for tonight, shared silence and stolen glances were enough.

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To be continued...