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

Chapter Sixteen: Revelation

The next few days passed in a light-hearted blur.

Following Callidus's successful night of protecting Cressida from her nightmares, a new routine formed between them. Though she seemed hesitant to put it into words, she silently began to request Callidus's presence next to her each night. He thought he was dreaming the first time she lay down in bed, and then extended her arms towards him, blinking at him from across the room with those wide grey eyes. In his eagerness to join her, he actually tripped over the carpet, which sent her into a peal of laughter despite the fact the air caught him immediately.

"I hadn't realized you could be so silly, Callidus," she teased, resting against his chest once he finally made it to the bed.

"I'm sorry," he said instinctively.

She looked up at him, her brows furrowed, "Why are you sorry?" He blinked, not quite sure how to respond. In his mind, silly wasn't a positive trait. But she just smiled and giggled, "Oh, Callidus, remember when you said my dress looked like dirt?"

His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he buried his face in her hair, murmuring another apology. She poked him in the sides, causing him to yelp at the ticklish sensation.

"Thanks for taking me out tonight," she said, changing the subject. "It was actually nice to feel the rain on my skin. Can we do that again tomorrow?"

Their nightly outings had become a cherished routine, and Callidus had become adept at concealing the emotional tether's presence, ensuring plausible deniability whenever Cressida inquired about it. He was cautious, never taking her out until he confirmed with Arden and Mint that Jasper and his guards were seen entering their respective quarters. Cressida didn't question why their outings only happened at night; instead, she just seemed happy to be able to walk the grounds or choose books for herself in the library.

(She asked about Cilla and Quail possibly joining her, but he shut that down quickly, reminding her that she was his only exception.)

While heavily supervising Cressida's explorations in the palace, Callidus experienced a blend of emotions. A warm, giddy feeling washed over him, but it was accompanied by growing apprehension. He knew it was time to take her back to their room when his panic overwhelmed the excitement.

After Cressida had confessed her desire to break the memory crystals, Callidus took a decisive step in the dead of night. While she peacefully slept in his embrace, he quietly removed the crystal orbs from his shelf. The softest of breezes packed each delicate orb into a thick wooden box, wrapping them in soft fabric as he replayed the cherished memories in his mind.

At times, he hesitated, considering returning the crystals to the shelf, but he couldn't bear the thought of them causing Cressida any more distress. Instead, he held her even closer as he continued with his task.

In the depths of his mind, a battle raged. He struggled with the knowledge that the precious visions he worshipped weren't real, while Cressida, in her beautiful complex entirety, was tangible and genuine.

((And, of course, she wouldn't be tempted to break them if they were safely hidden away.))

When she noticed the empty shelf in the morning, the look she had given him took the air right out of his lungs, and he knew it had been the right decision.

As the days passed, it became increasingly difficult for him to leave the room in the mornings. While he had already known Cressida enjoyed cuddling, in her sleep she would cling to him relentlessly. He always woke up before her and would lose himself in blissful daydreams or in counting the number of her eyelash hairs. It was, of course, unfathomable to disentangle himself from her embrace, so he adjusted his schedule accordingly, deliberately clearing his mornings, just in case Cressida wanted more time to rest.