Chapter 6-- The Cold Lord.

‘What are you doing here?’. Damien questions through clenched teeth behind me.

I let out a tiny scream and turn around to face him.

He's in a white short sleeve shirt with black trousers.

And an impatient expression etched on his face. Expecting me to answer his earlier question.

‘I…um… I’ I stutter unable to calm my racing heart.

‘The door’. I finally manage to say.

‘What about it?’. He asks annoyance laced in his tone.

If I wasn't scared right now, I would've snapped at him.

‘It opened. By itself’.

‘What are you talking about?’. He replies, arms crossed over his chest.

Now I was annoyed.

‘I got out of bed to get a glass of water, when I heard strange sounds coming from this room’. I say pointing behind me without turning around.

‘So, I decided to check it out, thinking maybe someone needed help. I got to the door about to twist the door knob when it opened. By itself’. I finish as calmly as I possibly can.

He looks at me with an eyebrow raised.

‘Really?’. He asks, his tone filled with disbelief.

‘Yes, really’. I snap.

‘If so’. He says. ‘Why do I see a closed door?’.

‘What?’ I say confused. ‘The door is opened just look—

I cut myself off, turning around to see that he is right.

The door is closed. Shut.

‘What’ I whisper in disbelief. ‘It was opened’.

‘Yes. Okay’. He say sarcastically.

I turn around to face again glaring at him

‘You think I made this up?’. I accuse him.

‘Did I somehow give that away’. He shoots back.

‘Why would make I this up?’. I question not understanding why the thought would even cross his mind.

He shrugs casually as if he didn't just indirectly accuse me of being a liar.

‘Based on how curious you've been lately, it's safe to say, that I can not take your word for it’.

I scoff at his words.

‘Curious?’ I ask seething with anger.

‘Maybe if you'd told me what was behind these doors, I wouldn't be curious enough to wander off on my own and you wouldn't have take my word for it’.

‘That’s why I warned you’. He replies.

‘Well, you're warning wasn't enough’. I snap back.

He takes a slow step toward me. I know I should be afraid but I stand my ground not wanting him to see how intimidated I am by closeness.

He leans over slightly and I stare straight into his green eyes that look dark with unspoken anger.

‘Elara’. He says in a low dangerous voice that has shivers running down my spine.

‘I’m doing the best I can to ensure your safety in this mansion. But if you can't see that’. He pauses. ‘It’s your problem, not mine’.

I feel his hurtful words pierce through my heart but I don't let him see that.

Instead I say, ‘You’re the prick I always imagine you'd be’.

I turn around, heading to my bedroom. Not wanting him to see the tears welling up in my eyes.

The morning arrived faster than I wanted it to. After that dreadful conversation last night, I went to bed forgetting how thirsty I was and now, I can't wait to fill my stomach with rich, delicious coffee.

I don't wait for Ana to come prepare the bath and help me dress. I do them all by myself.

It's not that difficult anyway.

I stand in front of the mirror, holding my hair in a messy bun and trying to ignore how puffy and red my eyes are.

I walk out of my room, going straight to the dinning room. Two guards greet me standing at both sides of the dining room.

I nod in response and take my seat at the very long table. The table is so long that I couldn't even reach the other side or the opposite end.

I wish I was kidding.

It makes me wonder if there are occasions where all the Ashcroft family have dinner here.

The thought has me feeling nervous.

A maid serves me my breakfast bringing me back to the present. The delicious coffee I've come to love so much and some bread with rich butter on the inside.

I moan in delight as I bite into the bread and butter. I close my eyes as I feel the taste of the food in my mouth.

This is so good.

I happily continue to eat my food when I notice that suddenly the room is quiet.

It was quiet before but this is too quite.

One by one the servants standing on the sides straighten. Then it hits me.

Damien.

My stomach drops because I thought he would be absent like the past few days.

Or maybe, I secretly thought he wouldn't come down after our interaction last night.

Of course he came.

After making my night miserable, he couldn't give me one peaceful breakfast.

The one morning I thought I could eat in the dinning room in peace.

I should have stayed in my room.

‎Then I hear his footsteps approaching, but i refuse to look up. I wasn't going to look at him.

Not after last night.

Not after he bluntly saying he didn't care about me.

And certainly not with eyes that practically announced I'd cried herself to sleep.

I hear the sound of the chair scraping the ground as he takes his seat. I glare into my coffee, feeling the once enjoyable food, taste like ash in my mouth.

The silence is unbearable. I can feel it in my bones.

I force myself to eat the remaining food left on my plate and push it away to get out of this suffocating silence.

I stand up fast, pushing the chair I was sitting on back a few paces.

I turn away from the dinning table, walking to the exit.

‘Elara’.

I keep walking.

‘Elara’.

He calls again. His voice firmer this time.

I stop and turn sharply.

‘What’.

His unreadable gaze remains fixed on me.

‘The rules’. He says

My expression hardens

‘What?’. I snap. ‘You want to remind me again what aren't your problems and what are mine?’.

His jaw tightened slightly, but his voice remains calm.

‘I'm reminding you that you agreed to follow the rules of this estate.’

‎

I let out a bitter laugh.

‎’The rules. That's all you care about, don't you?’

‎Before he could answer, I turn and walk away.

I walk to the library and angrily sit down to read my book.

Daily Shenanigans, the book is titled.

I try to read but realize I'm not focusing when I keep reading the same line.

My mind drifts back to the days after my mother's death when I'm father washed his hands clean off me.

When I'd go to his study to ask if everything was all right and he'd tell me to stay out of his business or to mind my own.

All those days when I'd eat my dinners alone or locked myself in my room because I couldn't stand the whispers and stares from the servants.

I feel wetness on my cheeks and realize I am crying. The page I've been reading has a few tears stain on it.

Slamming the book shut, I stand up, wiping angrily at the tears running down my face.

I need to clear my head.

I walk out of the library, moving towards the gardens.

I sit on the bench facing the beautiful flowers. But I don't have it in me to admire them today.

I try to calm my emotions but for some stupid reason they won't stop.

It takes me some few minutes or probably hours before I keep the tears in check.

I notice the presence of someone sitting on the other side of the bench. I suddenly become annoyed for not having a little bit of space for myself.

‘Rough night, Lady Ashcroft?’. The stranger asks.

‘Why do you care?’. I replied annoyance laced in my tone.

‘Ouch, Straight to the stabbing. We haven't even introduced ourselves. He says.

‘You shouldn't sneak up on people’. I reply sniffling.

‘I wasn't sneaking’. He says like a child being caught doing something wrong.

‘You were simply very committed to your thoughts. Now that's a tragic sight’.

I turn to him, giving him the most nastiest look I could muster.

‘You think?’. I reply bitterly.

‎His smile fades just enough to show he wasn't completely making fun of me.

‎It could probably be how red and swollen my eyes are.

‘Besides, you look like someone who could use a distraction’.

‎

‎ I narrowed her eyes.

‎

‎’And you're volunteering?’.

‎

‎’Apparently’. He chuckles softly.

‎

‎He reaches toward a nearby rose, plucking one carefully from the stem.

‎

‎I watch him despite myself.

‎

‎’You just picked that’. I say feeling sorry for the poor rose.

‎

‎’I did’.

‎

‎’Why?’. I ask curious.

‎

‎He held the rose up between them.

‘It looked lonely’. He shrugs

‎

‎I stared at him for a moment, then gave him an incredulous look.

‎

‎’You're strange’.

‎

‎He smiles.

‎

‎’I've been told’.

‎

‎He offers me the rose.

‎

‎I hesitate before taking it. I turn to look at him.

‎

‎’Who are you, anyway?’. I ask tilting my head a little.

There's something about him that looks familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time.

‎

‘Cassian’.

‎

‎’Cassian what?’.

‎

‎His smile turnes mischievous.

‎

Yeah, no, nothing about this man is familiar. At all.

‎’Just Cassian for now.’

‎

‎She frowned.

‎

‎’What do you mean,’For now?’’.

‎

‎’I like to leave people something to wonder about.’

‎

‎I shake my head, almost amused despite myself

‎

‎’You're one of Damien's men?’. I question, raising my eyebrow.

‎

‎’Something like that.’

‎

‘That's not an answer.’

‎

‘It's the answer you're getting.’

‎

‎ I study him.

‎

‎’And you just wander into gardens and bother crying women?’ I say teasing.

‎

‎’Only the particularly interesting ones’. He gives a boyish grin.

‎

‎I give him a small smile of my own.

‎Then he casually asks,

‎’So... are you going to tell me what made your eyes look like that, or shall we agree to blame the roses?’

‎

‎I immediately shut him down.

‎

‎’The roses.’ I say defensively.

‎

‎Cassian looks at the flower in my hand.

‎

‎’Ah. A vicious bunch, apparently.’

I nod not trusting myself to say something right.

We're silent for a few minutes when he gets up. I face him realizing how tall he is.

‘Well, I guess it's time for me to leave’. He says.

I nod again as he runs his hand through his hair trying to smooth the unruly curls from his face.

‘It was a pleasure meeting you, Elara'. Saying that he turns and walks away.

And I'm left wondering if I told him my name.

Later in the evening, I'm having dinner on the dinning table with Damien sitting across from me. I don't even acknowledge his presence.

I'm still angry, but it's not as intense as it was in the morning. Thankfully, I stopped crying after the conversation I had with Cassian and my eyes have lost their redness and aren't swollen anymore.

Footsteps sound on the dinning room floor. I look up curious wondering who that possibly could be.

Cassian walks towards the dinning table, taking a seat beside Damien.

I look at him in puzzlement.

What is he still doing here.

He looks between Damien and me.

‘Did I interrupt something?’. He asks amusement written on his face.

‘No’. Damien replies still eating his food.

Cassian glances at me.

‘Interesting. You both look like you want to kill each other’.

‎

‎Damien gives him a look.

‘Leave’. He says venom laced in his tone.

Cassian smiles.

‘Ah, so I did interrupt something’.

I glare into my food not wanting to be a part of the conversation.

Cassian catches on and apparently couldn't keep his mouth shut, he says,

‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your wife?’. He asks Damien.

I look up at him, trying to understand what he meant.

Didn't he already do that in the gardens?.

Damien lets out a tired sigh dropping his spoon on his plate.

He looks at Cassian and says calmly.

‘Cassian, this is my wife, Elara’.

Then looking at me with eyes that seem to pierce through my soul.

‘Elara, this is Cassian’. He pauses. ‘My brother'.

‎