Before she knew it, Caspian was escorting her upstairs towards his favourite haunt in the castle. They walked past a familiar set of embellished double doors, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but ask, “Where do those lead?”
She knew full well they led to the mysterious, unused ballroom that made Caspian angry.
“It’s a ballroom,” he said, his face turning sour.
“Really? I haven’t seen the ballroom here yet,” Elizabeth said carefully.
“No one goes in there,” he said stiffly.
Perhaps she liked to play with fire, or perhaps wearing one of her favourite gowns had given her false confidence, because she couldn’t resist needling him further. “What a shame that is! Why not?”
“Because.” His tone was sharp.
They reached a large curving staircase that spiraled up the centre of a tower, and he gestured for her to go first. He was a dark presence behind her as they ascended the stairs. Caspian seemed to never tire, but her legs grew leaden, burning with the effort.
They came to a pair of snarling stone gargoyles that flanked a set of open doors.
Her breath caught in her throat as she entered the most beautiful terrace she had ever seen, bordered by an intricate iron railing.
She stepped out into the dusk air, brimming with awe. She soaked in the view of sprawling mountains and water in the distance. The rain from earlier had fled the skies, leaving behind an orange sunset that rippled through the clouds.
“Beautiful,” she murmured.
“I think so too,” he replied, placing his hands on the railing near hers.
It was odd—he had nearly seen every inch of her body, and yet, his nearness felt strange and forbidden. As if outside of her chambers, they were still complete strangers.
The closeness of his hand to hers made her breath quicken.
She eyed his fingers and knew if she asked him to hold her hand on this romantic terrace, it meant admitting he meant something to her. She blinked at the thought and tightened her grip on the railing, if only to stop herself from touching his hand.
Caspian was facing forward, his attention on the view.
She followed his lead, and they spent several minutes drinking in the view. They were two lost souls, staring at the mountains and the sea, trying to make sense of it all.
She wondered if demons even had souls, or if their hearts were nothing but empty husks.
“Do you miss home?” Caspian asked her suddenly.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Yes and no.”
He turned to her. “Explain.”
For some reason, she felt they had entered some strange new territory tonight. She still didn’t completely trust him, but she didn’t mind answering him truthfully. It was an innocent topic after all.
So, she said, “I miss my father. I miss going for walks through the flower fields and going for lunch in the city. I miss my friend Charlotte.” She smiled. “But I don’t miss being at court in the social season.”
Caspian smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. She had never seen him smile before—it opened up his features and made him seem much more human. “Come now, everyone fawning all over you? All the young men tripping overthemselves to ask you to dance, and all the young ladies simply green with envy? The social season must be dreadful for you.”
Elizabeth laughed. “No, but my mother was a nightmare at court functions. She was constantly telling me not to eat things to maintain my figure and fussing over every inch of my appearance. And you can’t smile too openly, or everyone will think you aren’t a proper lady. It can be exhausting.”
“You miss your father, but not your mother? Your father, I recall, was the principal reason for this whole affair.” He gestured between the two of them.
“My father is a good man,” she countered. “My mother was always my chaperone at court outings, but we didn't have very much in common. My father could be a bit of a cold fish sometimes, but I had much more in common with him. We used to spend our evenings reading in the sitting room together while my mother played the piano.” She smiled wistfully at the memory.
“So how can you hate a man, but miss him dearly at the same time? This does not make sense to me. I either don’t care if someone lives or dies, or I won’t hear a word against them.”
“My father did what he did because he thought it was right. He thought it would be good for our family.” She fidgeted, smoothing her skirts. “I am only angry at him for putting his love for our family above his love for me.”
