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

Chapter Twenty-One

Cressida hadn't realized she had fallen asleep, until she awoke to the soft rumble of Callidus's chest against her cheek. Her head felt fuzzy, and as she stirred from her slumber, she noticed a peculiar feeling—a blocked, congested sensation in her ears as if they were underwater.

It took a moment before she became aware of muffled conversation, the rumble of Callidus's chest becoming more pronounced.

"...inappropriate." Came the unmistakable sound of Cilla's voice, although it was extremely muted.

Callidus's voice was far clearer, although still distant and almost dreamlike, "She is more than comfortable enough to sleep here with me."

"...assist.... corset..."

She felt his breath hitch, and his body tense. "I can...that." He replied, his voice hushed and determined.

"Absolutely not, Your Highness!" Cilla's sharp tone rang through, causing Cressida to sense the tension rising within Callidus. His body grew even more rigid, and his breathing became shallow and agitated.

"...you...speak to me like that." He hissed, his chest vibrating deep and low against her cheek.

Cressida slowly lifted her head from Callidus's chest, and the muffled, blocked sensation immediately vanished. She blinked, disoriented by the sudden lack of pressure, and her blurry gaze met Cilla, who stood a hand's length from the door to the Sapphire Suite. Her mouth was stretched in a taut line, her eyes hard.

"...what is going on...?" Cressida rasped; her mouth dry.

She felt Callidus's hands brush against her, smoothing out her hair. "My love, I tried not to wake you." He murmured.

"I am here to assist you in preparing for the night," Cilla interjected with a firm tone. "Your Highness, if you please would allow me."

Cressida hesitated for a moment, unsure of whom Cilla's request was directed towards, but she responded, nonetheless. "Of course, Cilla. Thank you." She began to stand up from the loveseat.

However, Callidus's grip on her tightened, constricting her movements. The sudden increase in pressure sent a wave of unease through her body, making her acutely aware of the tension emanating from him. His muscles felt coiled, as if he was on the edge, prepared to react swiftly and forcefully.

Cressida's eyes widened with concern, her heart pounding in her chest. "Callidus, what's wrong?"

"...I don't want you to go." He whispered, his voice barely audible, as he nuzzled against her neck. "Please, don't leave me."

Cressida's face flushed with embarrassment, the heat spreading across her cheeks as she inadvertently locked eyes with Cilla. The horror in Cilla's gaze mirrored the shock and worry that Cressida felt deep within. It was as if a silent understanding passed between them, acknowledging the concerning nature of Callidus's behavior.

Cressida gently but firmly pushed against Callidus, attempting to loosen his grip and create some distance between them. "Callidus, please. I just need to get ready for bed."

"But you don't really." He murmured against her skin. "You can stay here with me. I can even help you dress. I won't even look."

She felt a sudden brush of wind against her back, plucking her corset strings like a harp. She flinched at the sensation as she registered the implications of Callidus's words. His desperation was palpable, his grip unyielding, and the insistence in his tone only heightened her unease.

"Callidus, please," Cressida pleaded, her voice gentle but firm. "I appreciate your offer, but I need my privacy. Cilla is here to assist me, as she always does."