The skies above Greystone Dock were clear that morning, dressed in soft hues of blue and peach as the sun bathed the town in warmth. Birds chirped from crooked fences. The sea was calm, its rhythmic hush gently lapping the docks.
In Rosebury, the atmosphere was equally pleasant—clean air, fine smells from bakeries, carriages clattering across stone-paved streets. But around Eldhollow, travelers reported otherwise. Storms had returned. A strange, electric tension seemed to hang thick over the vampire city.
But here in Elowen's modest cottage, the day had started with laughter.
The voices of women drifted through the warm parlor—Marianne, Maeryn, and their neighbor, Mrs. Abena, the trader known for bringing fresh fruit and fresher gossip.
Elowen stumbled in, blinking sleep from her eyes, her hair a soft tumble of curls around her shoulders. She yawned.
"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!" Maeryn declared from her kitchen post, flipping bread on a skillet. Everyone burst into laughter.
"Good morning, Mother. Maeryn," Elowen greeted, rubbing her eyes. "And a wonderful morning to you, Lady Abena."
"Morning, dearest," said Mrs. Abena, her headscarf neatly tied. "How was your night?"
Elowen smiled faintly. "It was… fine."
A lie, of course.
***
She had tossed all night. When sleep did come, it dragged her into strange dreams—shadows with fangs, whispers in the wind, and a pair of dark eyes that watched her from behind blood-kissed walls.
Julian had not been around yesterday. Not physically.
But his presence?
Lingered like perfume on her skin.
She'd spent the entire day rearranging his schedule and tasks—he'd left detailed instructions, as he was attending an investigation at the Secretariat about a new case discovered near the outskirts. It had taken her hours.
By the time she returned home, it was almost 10 p.m.
Tired. Hungry. Confused.
Now, she needed strength—and caffeine.
She took a hot cup of coffee from Maeryn and drifted to the bathroom. Steam billowed from the porcelain tub as she soaked briefly, her mind drifting. She said nothing of the dream. Of the beast in the shadows.
She said nothing of the way Julian's voice kept echoing in her head.
"Entitle me again…"
***
Her cheeks flushed as she poured cold water over her face.
At nearly 9:00 a.m., she slipped into the gown from Ewan's package. It was a muted green silk that shimmered faintly with every movement. It hugged her gently at the waist and flowed down in soft layers. Paired with the matching silver-embroidered shoes, it gave her a regal softness.
Maeryn had helped her curl her hair at the edges and pin two delicate strands away from her face with pearl pins. Her lips were tinted rose. Her lashes curled like a poet's comma.
She looked enchanting.
A soft knock at the door drew her attention.
She peeked through the curtain.
A dark, elegant carriage.
Ewan's—though he wasn't inside.
She turned to see Marianne and Maeryn spying from the window. Maeryn mouthed with exaggerated drama
"Don't kiss yet!"
Elowen nearly burst out laughing.
She shook her head at Maeryn's mischief, then stepped out into the sun, her gown trailing like morning light behind her.
---
The carriage ride to Rosebury took just under an hour thanks to shortcut routes that danced along the edge of the riverbank and through small, dew-kissed fields.
Elowen stared quietly out the window, hands folded in her lap, heart pacing in uneven rhythm. She wasn't nervous about Ewan.
She just wished the storm brewing over Eldhollow would stop whispering to her bones.
When the carriage finally stopped, the door opened to reveal a pristine corner of town, marked by soft cobblestones and ornate lanterns.
Rosebury's Finer Inn stood tall with ivy-covered walls and an elegant sign swinging gently in the breeze. Its interior gleamed with polished wood, golden-framed portraits, and soft harpsichord music drifting through the air.
Few tables were occupied. It was a late breakfast hour, perfect for quiet nobles and shadowed deals.
And there—at the far end, beneath a grand chandelier—Ewan Blair stood as she entered.
He was dressed in a fine ash-grey coat with black accents, his dark hair perfectly swept back, and that signature charming smile tugging at his lips.
He rose from his seat with graceful ease.
"Elowen," he said with warm delight. "You're even more radiant than I imagined."
"Thank you," she said, feeling her cheeks tinge pink.
He gestured to the seat across from him. "Please, join me."
She sat, her gown rustling softly. "This place is beautiful."
"Only worthy of guests who deserve beauty," he replied, already signaling a waiter.
"You didn't have to do all this," she said.
"But I wanted to," Ewan replied. "You've been working hard. You deserve… well, something that's just for you."
She smiled, sipping the tea placed before her.
They talked—about the town, about the new invention that had the Secretariat spinning. About her days at the manor, about books, about the oddity of Rosebury's politics. He made her laugh. Made her feel seen. Heard.
But occasionally… only occasionally… she would catch herself wondering.
What would Julian think if he saw her here?
Would he scoff? Or smirk? Or interrupt like a thundercloud?
---
And in Eldhollow, someone was indeed scowling.
Lord Julian Ravenshade, back from his early morning meeting with the Secretariat, sat in his study, flipping absently through a page of reports.
But he wasn't reading.
Not truly.
He had asked a Greydock town guard if Elowen was in her residence .The answer had come too quickly:
"She left this morning, my Lord. Dressed… impressively."
Impressively?
That was not a word used lightly.
And then, Seraphine had strolled in.
"Oh, don't look like the storm," she teased.
He didn't answer.
She sat on the edge of his desk and said, "You missed your chance. I heard through town that Ewan Blair took our wildflower to breakfast."
His hand tightened slightly on the edge of the parchment.
"Rosebury's Finer Inn, no less," she added.
He said nothing.
Seraphine leaned forward, whispering, "You're jealous."
He turned a slow, cold stare at her.
And she just smiled.