Book One: The Marigold's Larkspur ~ A tale of mystery, magic, and obsession.

Chapter Eighteen

Callidus's pleading eyes pierced into her, his expression filled with a mix of hope and desperation. He searched her face, scouring for even the slightest sign of recognition or understanding.

The silence between them grew heavy, each moment stretching as he awaited a response that could alter the course of their relationship. His longing for her to grasp the weight of his emotions and the depth of their connection was palpable in his unwavering stare.

Callidus's voice grew softer, lingering.

"Cressida, I love you," he repeated. The vulnerability in his voice mirrored the vulnerability she felt within herself.

Cressida's heart quickened as the weight of Callidus's declaration sank in. The truth was like his magic, stirring up a wind born flurry of emotions within her.

"Why?" she breathed, wrapping her night shawl tightly around her.

Cressida's question hung in the air, and Callidus's expression softened with an extraordinary tenderness. "There are so many reasons why."

"No." she whispered, as panic coiled around her throat with lightning speed, suffocating her. In that terrifying instant, she feared Callidus was using his magic to strangle her. "Why did you tell me...?"

A stifling silence engulfed them, leaving little room to breathe.

"Would you have preferred I didn't?" Callidus inquired, his voice gentle.

Cressida gazed at him; disbelief etched on her face. "Yes."

As the weight of Cressida's whispered rejection settled between them, Callidus's expression shifted from hope to a mixture of hurt and confusion. He took a step back, as if her words had physically struck him, the air around them thick with unspoken emotions, the tension building between them like a gathering storm.

"You would have preferred I didn't tell you...?" Callidus repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes searched hers, desperately seeking an explanation for her response.

Cressida's gaze remained locked on his, grappling with conflicting emotions. She never anticipated the intensity of Callidus's feelings, nor did she anticipate her own reaction to his confession.

"Yes," Cressida finally repeated, her voice trembling as she attempted to maintain her composure. "Knowing your feelings only complicates our already complicated situation. How can I trust what you say when I'm a captive in your kingdom? You bring me presents, but keep me in the dark. You kiss my hand, but trap me with your magic. How can I believe that your love is genuine when it all seems like a twisted game of power?"

Callidus's features contorted with a mix of pain and frustration, his voice tinged with desperation. "Cressida, I need you to understand that my love for you is not a game. It is not a means to control or deceive you. It is a pure and undeniable truth."

Cressida's anger surged forth, driven by her helplessness in the face of Callidus's power over her. She felt trapped, both physically and emotionally, and the weight of their unequal positions was suffocating.

"Truth?" she echoed, her voice cutting through the charged air like a blade of ice. "Now you decide to tell me the truth? Where was the truth when I asked you about my people being imprisoned? Where was the truth when I pleaded with you to explain why I've been barred from speaking to your father? Why can't I speak to anyone about the false accusations leveled against me? What else are you hiding from me? What else haven't you told me?"

Her words hung heavy in the air, each question a testament to the mounting resentment and disillusionment that had been building within her. The weight of her captivity and the lack of transparency gnawed at her, fueling her burning anger at Callidus's poor timing.