“So, how did it go between you two?”

After a hearty, delicious dinner served under a golden thousand-year-old chandelier, the questions about today’s occurrence started pouring out from his aunt. The light flickered above them when a wind lost its way into the dining room, rocking the crystals as it passed through. The thin drapes danced along to its tune, falling once it bid farewell. Briar, clothed in a comfortable loose white dress for the evening, glanced up from his meal and hummed.

“It was… good.” He answered softly, not sure how to word what went on between him and the dashing museum curator. The images playing in his mind from the tall, imposing structure of the building to its peculiar owner, who was dead set on dishing out his poetic compliments. “He asked me if we wanted to start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” His aunt echoed incredulously at the revelation. Her hand almost dropped her fork into the flat porcelain. “That’s a bit fast, isn’t it? Usually, your past suitors would be too shy and wait around before asking you.”

Eyebrows furrowed slightly; Briar cocked his head before shrugging at her observation. “Well, considering how I have no options left, I must play along with it. After all, I only have a few months remaining and Mr. Persimore seems… nice. A bit strange, but a gentleman. However, I can’t shake off this feeling he’s onto me or something.” Remembering the mermaid scale, which he said was being displayed on the second floor of the museum, Briar gnawed on his inner cheek in contemplation. “He was staring and breaking me apart to see my soul.”

“In a romantic sense? Or the suspicious one?”

“The latter.” Wiping the sauce staining his lips, Briar took his half-filled glass of wine. Sloshing the dark maroon liquid around. “I told you in the carriage he possesses a mermaid scale and exhibits it in that museum of his. He must be up to no good, and I intend to find out as soon as possible. I do hope it’s just another assumption of mine.”

I hate to get my hands dirty; he clicked his tongue lightly at the thought.

“Is that partly the reason why you agreed to such a request?” Lips curling up in implication, Lady Margareth set her glass down “And where does he plan to take you tomorrow? I’m sure it’s somewhere romantic.”

“To the south. He owns a villa near the sea.” The young master responded, leaning back on his chair. “He wants us to get to know each other for a month—”

“A month?!”

“All alone, in one house—”

“Alone? In one house—” Lady Margareth felt like she would have a stroke at the newfound information presented to her. Finally realizing why her nephew refused to tell her until they arrived home. “And you agreed to it? Briar, do you know what will happen if those previous suitors of yours would find out about this?”

“I agreed, for I feared he would continue spouting romantic praises all day if I didn’t.”

“My goodness… And not to mention, your task. The first day of November…”

At the reminder of his sole purpose in life, Briar’s face turned solemn. It was almost winter, autumn about to dry out and fly with the leaves of summer. Bitter and melancholic, snow would be upon them in a few weeks. “I know. I haven’t forgotten, Aunt Marge. Don’t worry, I can handle it alone. Think of it as a rest day for you and Kingsley.” The butler nodded in acknowledgment. Yet his aunt was still full of worry. She had the right to be, for this might be the first time Briar won’t have any accompaniment.

“What if he sees you?”

“Not to worry. I’ll take extra precautions so he wouldn’t suspect a thing.” Standing up from his seat, Briar grinned at his aunt. “If you’ll excuse me, I still need to pack. It will be a long journey tomorrow, starting in the morning.”

“But—”

“Good night, Aunt Marge.”

Leaving the woman alone with her worries, Briar left the dining room swiftly. Once inside the comforts of his bedroom, he clenched his fists in silent frustration at the idea of Castriel Persimore knowing what he might be. He recently cleaned up his mess, and he was too tired to deal with another one. This time, however, would be a pretty hard one to do if he does find out. According to Castriel, only he and Briar would travel to the villa with no one else to assist them. What is even more irritating is, in case he gets in trouble, no one would blame anyone but him if anything happens to the museum curator. Despite his position of being a curator, a noble occupation, he was still a sorcerer—one that does not reveal his intentions so easily. The line between sorcery and the world of darkness was very thin. One Briar knows all too well. He has to be careful around the man, for his angelic look may be deceiving.

And yet, I couldn’t say no… Briar sighed, a tiny chuckle bubbling out of his throat at how he was trapped. If I didn’t say yes, he might continue to hound me or even be more curious. Yes, it’s better this way.

For once, if he can prove to the handsome but dangerous curious creature in the name of Castriel Persimore that he isn’t what he imagines him to be, then he can forget everything and label this experience as a short getaway from town.

༻❈༺

“Oh my, going somewhere?” The glint in the eyes of Katarina Lir did not go unnoticed by the lady and her nephew as they were about to board the carriage back to the town where Castriel was waiting. It was a perfect sunny day, perfectly ruined when she waltzed up to them in her tight-fitting green gown. Its hem rustled the grass as it brushed against it. A coy smile accompanied her snake-like glances at Briar’s suitcase. An obvious look of pretentious surprise crossed her features. “Are you leaving, young boy?”

“Madam Lir, it’s such a pleasant morning… To see you awake at this hour is very surprising too!” Glancing up, Lady Margareth gestured to the skies with laughter. “I guess it will rain gold coins next.”

“If you think you can get away with such a comment, Lady Margareth… think again.” The elegant nephilim uncharacteristically sneered, showing her displeasure quite clearly with the absence of her husband. “But I am merciful, and I don’t wish to part ways with young Briar here in such a nasty mood. Where is he going?”

“To find happiness, one your son couldn’t give with you hovering over him like an ugly vulture.”

“Margareth—”

“Madam Lir.” Stepping in between his aunt and the enraged woman, Briar bowed. His aunt tried to stop him but relented. “Please don’t continue treating Icarus like he’s incompetent. Even without his wings, he is still a capable man and wants to uplift your family. I apologize for the past wrongdoings I may have caused you, but I beg you to give your son the happiness he deserves as I try to find my own.”

“No need for your concern, Briar. Focus on finding your happiness, for he will have his as soon as he gets home this winter for his birthday.” Katarina, with a victorious aura, replied. “I pray you can get back from your trip as soon as possible since you are invited. The announcement of his wedding day to the count’s daughter will be said at the celebration, so I do hope you can.”

“I… see.” Mouth dry, he weakly nodded. “I will come, promise.”

With a half-hearted goodbye, she made the trek back to her house.

Briar and his aunt stood on their ground, stunned at such news. Teeth nibbling on his lower lip, he kept back the tears blurring his vision as he climbed aboard the carriage. His aunt followed, murmurs of curses slipping past her mouth like a prayer.

Icarus, wherever he may be, probably doesn’t even know what his mother has in store for him the moment he gets back. However, Briar had an inkling he would marry the woman his mother picked for him out of respect and her wishes. And because he did not love Briar like he made him believe all those years ago.

“Do you want me to poison that woman when I invite her for tea?” Lady Margareth grumbled, shutting the wooden door after glaring at the Lir’s household. “I can’t believe I’ll be stuck for a month with the Lirs next door.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re always out at parties when I’m not around.” Briar laughed. No trace of humor accompanied it. “Let’s go, Kingsley. I don’t want to keep Mr. Persimore waiting.”

The journey to Castriel’s museum seemed short, plagued by the thoughts of Icarus Lir. As Briar greeted the sorcerer, who waved at them with a carriage by his side, all he could ever see was Icarus. Bidding goodbye to his aunt and butler, joining his suitor on their own ride to the train station—Icarus Lir was still on his mind.

The images of his childhood friend and love snapped in half when he flinched in his seat at the sudden whistle of the incoming train. The morning light dappled into the station, the vivid colors surrounding him now known. Then, he felt a hand shaking his shoulder, causing him to turn to the man beside him. The heavenly features of Castriel came to view with a look of concern.

“Are you feeling ill, Briar?”

“Huh?”

“You have been silent the whole time. I’ve been asking you questions, but you never seem to answer.” Removing his glove, Castriel pressed a hand against the young master’s forehead, surprising him. “Hmm, you don’t feel warm enough to have a fever. Does your stomach hurt? Is this your first time riding a train? Do you want to go home? We can move our plans to a later date if you want—Briar, why are you crying?”

Briar longed to hear the same words from Icarus, asking how he was and seeking any means to make him comfortable. How long has it been since someone, other than his aunt and butler, expressed such worry over him? How long has it been since he craved love and to be loved in return?

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he whispered, hiding his face from the man’s view with his hands rubbing his eyes. “I-I think dust went into my eye…” Even if such kindness was ungenuine or hid an agenda, his heart ached at such an act.

“Let me see.” Lifting Briar’s face by his chin, Castriel gently pried his hands away. Cradling his cheeks softly, as if he were made of glass. Flushing, Briar opened his eyes. Staring back into those cobalt irises that searched through him. “I don’t seem to see anything…” Suddenly, those cobalt hues seemed to grow closer, attempting to drown Briar in their depths. Instinctively, his hand shot up to cover Castriel’s mouth. Both froze in their seats.

He felt Castriel’s lips stretch into a smile underneath his palm, holding Briar’s wrist and removing it from his face. Amused and teasing. It made Briar’s heart pound akin to a drum, beat on by a soldier off to war. “What’s the matter?”

Briar immediately pulled his hand away, ears and face red at what he just did. “S-sorry! I thought you were about to… about to…” He swore he felt steam coming out of his ears, similar to the train across them. He couldn’t believe he thought Castriel was about to kiss him in front of all these people waiting with them to board the steam engine. “I-I…”

“There’s no need to explain yourself, Briar. I’m sure anyone would feel nervous on a trip with a stranger.” With a comforting pat on his shoulder, Briar’s worries melted away slowly as Castriel stood up from his seat and took their suitcases. “And if you feel sleepy, you can always rest on the train as we head there. It’s a three-hour trip, so you can definitely relax.”

“I did not have any trouble sleeping last night.” Briar countered, embarrassed that he was seen through. Although it wasn’t because he was having trouble getting rid of Castriel’s handsome face from his mind. No, he was restless because this man was dangerous, for he was curious. Too curious to let Briar lower his guard. Keeping this in mind, he composed himself. “And you’re right. I should catch some sleep.”

If you try anything on this trip, I will surely bring you down and the secrets you’ve learned with you to your grave.

“All aboard!”

“That’s our cue,” Castriel whispered excitedly as he led them towards the line forming. Briar could not help but feel a bit better, despite being in the company of a man who might try to spill his secrets. Yet, he was drawn to such a character, Briar grinned. Almost missing the hand that made a grab for his shoulder, so roughly he could have been flung back. Hand close to reaching into the pocket of his coat that contained a small knife, Briar sharply turned to meet air.

No one was behind him at all.

Strange… I was sure I felt someone—

“Briar?”

“Coming…” He answered, searching the area once more before joining the man. The train was indeed spacious, specifically luxurious in the first-class coach where they were seated. Not only was it spacious, but private. Briar was on his toes as they settled in. Castriel ordered food to snack on, even asking Briar if he wanted anything to eat during the trip to which he declined. As the train rushed past hills and vibrant green meadows with cows grazing peacefully as the sunlight painted their backs, he fought back the urge to sleep.

Wary of Castriel and what he might do if he falls asleep.

The person he was guarding over, however, was merely reading his book. Sometimes even pulling out another one from his bag, as if what he read earlier was not intriguing enough. Still, Briar put up a good fight. His efforts were in vain after thirty minutes. The melody of lethargy cast its spell on him and soon, Briar found himself welcoming pleasant dreams of languorous forests and singing birds. It was a bump on the rails that woke him up from his visit to dreamland and was then confronted by the same cobalt blue enthralling eyes set on devouring him now. Both hands pinned on either side of his head, trapping Briar. His heart was about to fall out of its ribcage as it dawned upon him but then smirked.

“Oh, so you’ve decided to show your true self this early, Mr. Persimore?”