Cessalie couldn't sleep. No matter how many times she shifted or closed her eyes, her gaze kept drifting back to the desk across the room. It pulled at her like it glowed faintly in the dark, humming a quiet song only she could hear.
Eventually, she gave in.
She crossed the room and sat down, cautiously, like the chair might disappear beneath her if she moved too quickly, like the walls might rat her out for even thinking this space belonged to her.
The desk wasn't extravagant, but it was made with care. A single drawer creaked gently when opened. For the first time in this house, something here felt… hers.
Her hand hovered over the quill beside the small ink bottle before she finally picked it up. She did not write a letter, nor was it a proper journal entry. She simply wrote what she felt, pouring it onto the page in words she knew she could never show to anyone.
Her head grew heavy as she kept writing, the exhaustion she was ignoring finally winning. Before she knew it, she fell asleep right there at the desk.
By morning, a sharp knock pulled her out of a restless half-dream. Her cheek was stuck to the parchment, and her neck ached from the awkward angle she'd collapsed in.
Another knock, sharper this time.
She groaned, lifting her head, hair clinging to her skin. "Yes?" Her voice cracked, hoarse from sleep.
"Lady Cessalie," came the maid's voice from the other side of the door. "Duke Davian has come to see you."
Her heart stumbled in her chest.
He is back already? Her mind raced through possibilities. More news? Another argument? Anger?
Her eyes flicked to the desk, her fingers brushing along its smooth edge. He gave her this.
Surely, he wouldn't be angry.
Despite herself, a small, stubborn smile tugged at her lips. She took a breath, forcing her nerves down. "Tell the Duke I'll be there shortly. He can wait in the garden."
"Yes, my lady."
She tucked the parchment beneath the stack of papers, smoothing them like nothing had happened. Her eyes lingered on the desk for a beat longer, before she stood, pushing aside the fragile warmth still blooming in her chest.
She needed to bathe. She grabbed her hair twisiting them in a low bun as she walked towards the door to call for maids.
The maids helped, but today even the cold water and quiet routine dragged on. Normally, she relished the brief peace, the warmth, the few moments where no one demanded anything. But now, every second stretched, her mind pacing in circles.
Is he still waiting? What will he say?
The maids finished quickly. Her dress was simple but clean. Her heart wouldn't stop pounding as she stepped out of her chambers.
She hated how eager she felt.
The morning sun was soft over the gardens, casting pale golden light through the leaves. And there he was, standing by the fountain, turned away from her, his posture relaxed, hands tucked behind his back like he had all the time in the world.
"Good morning," she said, her voice quieter than intended.
He turned at the sound, like he'd been expecting her. Their eyes met.
"Morning, Cessalie," Davian greeted, his voice low, with a hesitation she wasn't used to hearing from him.
She shifted her weight, uncertain what to do with the space between them. "You're back already?"
He shrugged, stepping closer. "Couldn't stay away. I stayed in a inn here."
Cesaalie completely ignored that he stayed in a inn in Ferendia and just nodded.
There was warmth in his eyes that made her chest tighten.
"I wanted to apologize," he added. His voice was quieter now, sincere in a way that caught her off guard. "For yesterday. I didn't mean to be harsh."
The sincerity in his words, the way they settled between them, left her scrambling for what to say. It wasn't an empty apology. It wasn't for appearances. It felt real.
She opened her mouth, but only managed a stiff nod. "It's… it's fine. Really."
It sounded casual. It wasn't.
Her eyes flicked to the desk again in her mind, that tiny rebellion in the shape of wood and paper.
"Thank you," she added, forcing the words out, unsure why they caught in her throat. "For the desk."
For a moment, something flickered behind his eyes. relief? Maybe even something else she couldn't name.
"It's nothing," he replied too quickly, brushing it off like it was insignificant. But then his gaze settled on her again. "You deserve more than a desk, Cessalie."
Her breath caught. She didn't know how to respond to that. Something inside her shifted, unfamiliar and fragile, like hope trying to take root.
"I—I don't need anything else," she said, surprised by how raw her voice sounded.
But even as she said it, a part of her wasn't sure that was true.
He did not answer at first. They stood there in the quiet, the space between them filling with something uncertain.
She glanced away, giving her mind a moment to catch up with everything happening. But when her eyes drifted back to him, she could not stop the small, honest smile that tugged at her lips. It was not big or showy, but it was real.
Davian did not look like a duke standing there. He did not even feel like one. Just a man, shoulders relaxed, eyes soft, carrying that same look he always wore when he was scared he had hurt her. Like he was here to make it right.
"I didn't mean to speak to you that way yesterday," he said finallg, looking down at his feet. "I was… frustrated. But not at you."
Cessalie nodded, fingers picking at her sleeve. Her eyes flicked everywhere but his. "You didn't shout," she admitted. "Your tone just… changed."
Davian's gaze dropped to her hand on her sleeve for a second, his jaw tensing, but it passed quickly. "Still that wasn't how I should have spoken to you."
Her chest tightened in a way that was both too full and too hollow all at once.
"I didn't think you'd notice," she said softly.
His eyes lifted, meeting hers without hesitation. "I notice everything about you, Cessalie."
Her breath hitched. He said it so simply, like it was obvious. There was no charm or teasing behind it.
Something shifted low in her stomach. Her eyes stayed locked on his, unsure what to do with the softness resting there. It was unbearable in its honesty.
Neither of them moved for a long moment.
Then, slowly, cautiously, Davian stepped closer. His approach was careful, like he was asking for permission without using the words. Cessalie's breath caught, but she did not pull back. She could not.
His hand lifted slightly, pausing halfway like he meant to reach for her but thought better of it. His hesitation was patient.
"Can I?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Cessalie did not know what he was asking exactly, but she nodded anyway, a little too fast, lost in his eyes not knowing she nodded for.
And then he leaned in.
It was excruciatingly slow.
For a second, she thought he was going to hug her or murmur something else. But his face kept moving forward, eyes down on her.... lips, and suddenly, her heart was stuck in her throat. She realised and it was too late to back off now—
His lips brushed against hers, soft and careful, barely more than the lightest touch.
Her eyes widened as the realization settled in. It was a kiss. Her first.
Before she could react, Davian leaned back, studying her face, searching for any sign of regret or discomfort.
She could not speak.
Her fingers lifted to her lips like she needed to prove to herself it had actually happened. Those bright eyes of hers widened. Her skin still tingled where he had kissed her.
"What… was that?" she asked, her voice barely even.
It was a stupid question, she knew. And she also knew what was that they did. But it just came out as if she needed him to say it aloud for it to feel real.
"A kiss," Davian replied simply, the faintest smile curling at the edge of his mouth. "Was that alright?"
Heat flooded her cheeks, burning all the way to her ears. Her heart felt too loud in her chest, her body too light, her head spinning.
She nodded, probably too quickly. "Yes. I just… I didn't know you were going to—"
"I wasn't sure either," he admitted quietly. His voice softened further. "You just looked so… beautiful. I couldn't not."
Cessalie had no words left in her. She stood there, flushed and flustered, arms hanging awkwardly at her sides, her mind racing faster than she could control.
She didn't understand anything at first, replayed that very moment again and again. It happened so fast she didn't get to process it.
she looked at davian and now all she wanted was him kissing her again.
It was so soft. The way his lips pressed against hers, warm and soft. And how her chest fluttered like a thousand restless wings fighting to escape.
Cessalie's voice slipped out before her brain caught up, barely a whisper, shaky with nerves. "Can… can you kiss me again?"
The words tumbled out, recklessly, and as soon as they left her mouth, heat flooded her face, crawling up her neck.
Did I really just say that?
Davian's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise breaking his calm. But it faded almost instantly.
"You want me to?" His voice was low, careful, not teasing, just making sure.
She nodded, cheeks burning, hands trembling by her sides. The whole thing felt ridiculous, and yet, completely out of her control. "I've never… kissed anyone before," she admitted, her voice barely louder than the breeze between them. "And I… I want to. I want to try again."
Davian stared at her for a long second. he was was reading every inch of her face, trying to see if this was nerves talking, or her. But when he saw nothing but quiet honesty, something in his expression softened entirely.
His voice dropped, even gentler now. "Are you sure?"
Cessalie nodded again, feeling weightless, like the ground wasn't fully beneath her anymore. "Yes… I'm sure."
He moved toward her, slower this time, as if every step was a question. His hand lifted, cupping her cheek with such tenderness it made her heart trip over itself. His thumb brushed along her skin, featherlight, and for a second, he hovered there, giving her time to pull away.
But she didn't want space. She didn't want to think.
She rose on her toes without meaning to, leaning into him, closing the last of the distance.
And then he kissed her again.
This time, the kiss did not fade away. It was still gentle, but more real now, as if he meant to stay there for a moment longer. His other hand moved to her lower back and drew her closer. She felt the warmth of him as her chest met his, and without thinking, she leaned into it, letting herself soften against him.
She kissed him back imitating what he was doing, hesitant for a heartbeat, but then her hands found their way to his arms, fingers curling against the fabric of his sleeves. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest, so loud she was convinced he could feel it against him.
Everything else... the garden, the estate, the entire world blurred and disappeared. It was just him and just them.
When he finally pulled away, his forehead came to rest lightly against hers. Neither of them spoke right away, both catching their breath, still tangled up in the moment.
Cessalie barely recognized her own voice when she spoke. It was small, raw, but honest. "I think… I think I'm falling for you."
Davian's gaze softened even further, that quiet, restrained joy glinting in his eyes. His lips quirked with the faintest hint of a smile. "I think I already have."
The world outside their little corner stayed quiet, but inside, everything was loud. the wild heartbeat in her chest, the heat rushing through her veins, the impossible softness of his voice still lingering in the air.
He kissed her again.
And … so did she.
Summer was a month away, and cold had started to seep in around, but the cold inside her was gone. Her chhest did not ache with that quiet loneliness this time. Something warmer had settled there.
Outside, the gardens were beginning to fade, petals thinning, colors losing their strength. But inside her, something was only just beginning to bloom.