VESPER

CHAPTER 12

The moonlight filtered through the tall windows of Lord Vesper Arkwright's grand room, casting silvery shadows on the walls adorned with rich tapestries. In one corner, Mavis sat nestled under plush blankets, the warmth from the medicinal soup steaming gently in front of her. Vesper, tall and imposing yet tender in demeanor, leaned forward and spooned the warm liquid to her lips. Watching her delicate features, he could see a heartbreaking fragility beneath her strength.

"Just a little more, Mavis," he coaxed, his voice a soothing balm in the heavy silence that cloaked the room.

Mavis managed a faint smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Her heart weighed heavy with anguish. The villagers-innocent lives lost in the tragic misfortune-and despite Vesper's comforting words that she wasn't to blame, guilt gnawed at her insides. She lowered her gaze to the bowl resting on her lap, willing the shadows of despair to lift.

"Are you alright?" Vesper's deep voice broke the silence, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheek. The gentle caress sent a rush of warmth through Mavis, a blush coloring her face as she met his gaze. She hesitated, caught between the urge to share her turmoil and the instinct to shield him from her pain.

"I-I'm fine," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper as she nodded slowly. She didn't want to burden him with her troubled thoughts.

Vesper sensed her turmoil but respected her silence. "What was your mother like?" he asked, hoping to draw her from the shadows that surrounded her.

At the mention of her mother, Gloria, a wistful smile played on Mavis's lips. "Mom," she breathed, her heart swelling at the memories. "She had long jet-black hair and the kindest blue eyes. She was like a child at heart-full of laughter and mischief." Mavis's voice grew more animated, the warmth of nostalgia shining through the gloom. "She always tried to make my life safe and happy, filled with sunshine and laughter. I miss her."

As she recounted tales of her mother-long walks by the riverside, impromptu picnics, and her mother's ever-ready jokes-Vesper listened intently, his heart swelling with admiration for the woman she described. "What happened...why did your parents separate?" he ventured gently.

Mavis turned her gaze to the dim fire crackling in the hearth. "I was only five," she said softly. "Dad was so callous and distant. Mom just couldn't keep up with his...nature. She thought he would take responsibility, but he never did. I think she wanted to keep me safe from the mess surrounding the Cavanaugh name too." Mavis's voice trembled slightly at the unspoken hurt, memories of abandonment hovering in the corners of her mind.

"Your strength, Mavis, is unique," Vesper reaffirmed, his eyes intent on hers. "You are more important to me than you know." A quiet moment settled between them, pregnant with unsaid words. Mavis felt her cheeks flush, an overwhelming urge to confess the depths of her feelings for him bubbling just beneath the surface.

Before she could gather the courage to speak, the door creaked open, jolting them from their moment. Katherine, Vesper's sister, stepped inside, her expression grave and urgent.

"Apologies for the interruption," she murmured, but her somber demeanor stole the warmth from the room.

Beside Katherine stood a woman with piercing green eyes, her presence commanding yet gentle-as if she were a force of nature. "This is Diana," Katherine said, introducing the witch who greeted them with a slight bow.

Vesper's brow furrowed in concern. "Why is she here now?"

"Dark clouds of evil spirits and dark energy surround the village," Katherine replied, her voice trembling with concern. "No one can enter or leave. Though most survivors are recuperating, I fear this darkness signals another impending attack by Emilia."