Book Two: The Larkspur's Longing ~ A tale of deep obsession and devotion

Chapter Three: Family

His Marigold was asleep.

Rays of soft afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow upon Cressida's body, curled up in a charming ball on her side. Her lips were gently parted, and her hand rested gracefully in front of her chest. The air danced around her, stirred by the overwhelming tenderness that washed over Callidus as he watched her, his heart rate steadying at the sight.

In that moment, all the weight of the kingdom and the challenges he faced faded into insignificance. He silently approached the bed, his gaze locked on her serene features. He quietly took a seat beside her, his fingers reaching out to brush against her cheek.

Cressida, in her sleep, seemed to sense his presence. Her lips quirked in a gentle smile, and she leaned into his touch, and suddenly his heart was no longer calm. He leaned in to press a delicate kiss against her forehead, brushing aside a strand of hair with a whisper of wistful wind.

Cressida's eyes fluttered open, and her smile slowly faded as she focused on Callidus sitting beside her. The sleepy warmth in her eyes gave way to a flicker of unease, but Callidus chose to ignore it, hoping to maintain the tender atmosphere that had enveloped them only moments before. His fingers continued to graze her cheek, desperately seeking a connection.

"What were you dreaming about, my love?" Callidus asked softly, his voice filled with a sense of yearning. "You were smiling."

Cressida hesitated, her reluctance palpable, as she averted her gaze from Callidus's intense stare. She made a feeble attempt to roll over, but he steadied her with his other hand, gently urging her to open up to him.

"Hm?" He probed again, his eyes searching for the truth hidden within her.

"I didn't dream about anything," she murmured, her voice still laced with remnants of sleep. But her lie was transparent, and Callidus furrowed his brows.

"...you always dream."

Cressida's hesitation persisted, a flicker of annoyance crinkling her brow as she mumbled, "It was just a jumble of fragments. Nothing of significance."

She moved once more to roll over, and this time Callidus allowed it. Her back turned to him had become a familiar sight, evoking both frustration and longing within him. He leaned forward, curling his body around hers, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of her hair.

"Cressida," he called softly, his heart laden with a palpable ache. "Anything you dream of is significant to me."

Her body tensed in his embrace, her stiffness betraying her discomfort. She inhaled shakily, the air longing to fill her lungs as she finally relented, her bitterness seeping through her words. "Fine, Callidus," she replied, curtly "Since you insist on knowing, I dreamt about Prince Ferox."

(What?)

His heart cracked, a violent flow of emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he loosened his grip around her. Cressida abruptly turned her body to face him, searching his expression for a response, her eyes filled with satisfied irritation.

He clenched his jaw, determined to maintain his composure in front of her, but he felt a sudden sickening sensation sweep throughout his entire body despite the thrill of having her face so close to him.

"Did you now...?" he asked, his voice strained but controlled. "What did you dream about that made you smile so sweetly?"

"I dreamt of my childhood." She responded, her anger suddenly fading as if she realized the real impact her words had on him. "And...and Ferox was there. It wasn't anything specific. We were just in a garden in Eflia."