Every single woman in that room, wives and maids alike, spoke of Cassius with the same dreamy, reverent glow.
How kind he was when no one was watching.
How he remembered the smallest things—the flower someone liked, the way another preferred her tea.
How safe they felt beside him.
How he made them laugh until their sides ached, then held them until the laughter turned soft and quiet.
How he loved fiercely and without reservation.
Aqua had tried to stay neutral throughout the conversation.
She smiled and nodded and passed the wine and snacks around.
But she couldn't contribute the way they did.
She was his sister, after all.
Not a lover. Not even a prospective one.
That is until the topic swung inevitably in her direction.
"So what about you, Aqua?" Vivi, with her mischievous smile had teased, leaning forward. "There has to be someone back in the capital. A handsome mage? A knight? A poet who writes terrible poems about your eyes?"
