𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚡
What Seems Dark May Be BrightThe crisp autumn air whipped around Eloise Bridgerton's face as she strode along the path, her skirts swishing behind her like a rebellious spirit. Beside her, Cressida Cowper, a veritable picture of proper society, adjusted her feathered hair pin with a delicate frown.
"Tell me again about this... Lilith Grimes" Cressida began, her voice laced with a touch of disdain.
Eloise, her eyes sparkling with a playful glint, grinned. "Oh, she's quite unlike anyone you've ever met, Cress. Imagine someone who wears black velvet in the daytime and writes poetry about death"
Cressida shuddered. "How dreadful"
"Dreadful? She's fascinating!" Eloise's enthusiasm was infectious, despite Cressida's obvious apprehension.
"Well, that's not exactly the kind of person I want to associate with" Cressida said, her voice laced with thinly veiled disapproval. "I've heard whispers about her"
Eloise's smile faltered. "What sort of whispers?"
Cressida, her eyes narrowed, leaned closer. "They say she was once friends with a young woman, a lady of good standing. But then, one day... the woman just vanished. Some say that Lilith ate her"
Eloise recoiled. "That's ludicrous! Lilith wouldn't"
Cressida, amusement flitting across her face, said, "Oh Eloise, don't be naive. You know how society loves a good scandal. And Lilith... she provides plenty"
"This is... ridiculous" Eloise insisted, her voice rising an octave. "Lilith is kind, compassionate. She..." She trailed off, a sudden wave of protectiveness washing over her. She had only known Lilith for a few weeks, yet the woman's fiercely independent spirit and darkly captivating wit had drawn her in. "She would never do anything like that"
Cressida's smile was now a brittle thing, laced with thinly veiled mockery. "Perhaps not. But then again, she does favor a rather dark attire, doesn't she? The horrifying jewelry, the gloomy pronouncements... You never know what lurks beneath that ghostly exterior"
Eloise, feeling a surge of indignation, clenched her fist. "Just because Lilith doesn't conform to your societal standards doesn't mean she's some...some monster"
Cressida, unfazed by Eloise's outburst, simply arched an eyebrow. "Eloise you're so easily swayed. Perhaps you should pay a bit more attention to the whispers, and a bit less to... a depressing shadow"
Eloise, feeling the heat of anger rise in her chest, spun on her heel and stormed away,leaving Cressida's mocking laughter echoing behind her. The world might whisper its doubts, but she knew better. Lilith was no monster. And she, Eloise Bridgerton, intended to stand by her side, no matter what the ton thought.
—
The wind whipped around Eloise's ankles, biting at her silk stockings. It was a night for whispers, a night for secrets. She had followed Lilith from their carriage, her heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and morbid curiosity. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. She quietly followed the woman into the cemetery, a sprawling expanse of mossy tombstones bathed in the pale light of the moon.
Eloise watched, unseen, as Lilith knelt before a weathered grave, her dark hair falling around her like flowing water. With delicate fingers, she placed a bouquet of lilies on the stone, their white petals stark against the grey.
A shiver ran down Eloise's spine. The whispers had followed Lilith, whispers of the night creature. That gruesome rumor, spread by the gossiping ton, played on loop in her mind. The image of Lilith, her pale face framed by raven-black hair, devouring a woman, flashed before her eyes.
Eloise turned her head for a fleeting moment, her eyes seeking reassurance in the vast, silent expanse of the graveyard. But when she turned back, Lilith was gone. A wave of pure terror washed over her.
"Boo" a low, airy voice hissed in her ear.
Eloise screamed, a primal sound that ripped from her throat, and instinctively began to pray. Her hands clenched into fists, her eyes squeezed shut.
A melodic laugh, dark and rich as night, filled the air. "Oh dear" Lilith's voice was a silken whisper, tinged with amusement, "I see you are still so easy to scare"
Eloise opened her eyes, her heart still pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Lilith stood before her, her eyes glinting with a mischievous light in the moonlight.
"Lilith! You frightened me to death!" Eloise gasped, clutching her chest.
Lilith grinned, her white teeth flashing against her pale skin. She gestured towards the grave, her finger tracing the inscription; "Here lies Amelia Thorne, beloved daughter, cherished friend, 1797-1815"
Eloise swallowed, her throat dry. "Is it true? Did you eat her?" The words felt thick on her tongue.
Lilith's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "My first love? Yes, I ate her. Plenty of times"
The confession hung in the air, heavy and ominous. Eloise stared at Lilith, her mind reeling.
Lilith, sensing her confusion, pointed down at her own heat. "Here" she said, her voice low and husky, "I mean, here. In an lustful way"
Eloise's eyes followed her finger, landing on space between Lilith's legs.
"She called me Lily because her favorite flowers were Lilies. You remind me of her in some ways" Lilith sighed. A mix of nostalgia and pain swelled in her eyes.
And in that moment, a sudden wave of understanding washed over Eloise. The whispers had been twisted, distorted. Lilith hadn't eaten a woman, she had only pleased her, shown her affection. And in the eerie shadows of the graveyard, Eloise realized that the woman was far from cold. She had a heart of pure gold.