The decision wasn’t impulsive.

Since my last encounter with Lorran, I had avoided the marketplace, careful not to create another opportunity for him to find me. But today, I changed the pattern. I chose my timing, and I placed myself exactly where I needed to be.

And, just as I had predicted, he was there.

I kept my hands busy, running my fingers over the silk of a merchant’s wares, pretending to inspect the fabric while my senses stayed attuned to the space around me. It didn’t take long.

A shift in the air. A weight of familiarity settled behind me.

Then, his voice. "There you are!"

I turned slowly, letting my expression carry just enough surprise to be believable. "Were you looking for me?"

Lorran hesitated, caught in the truth of my words. He had been searching, and now that he had found me again, he didn’t seem to know what to say.

"You never told me your name," he said finally.

I tilted my head slightly. "And yet, you still recognized me." I paused, then— “Cassia is what the villagefolk call me.”

A faint smile crossed his lips, but there was something else in his eyes—uncertainty, curiosity, something he couldn’t quite place.

"Cassia,” he whispered. He took a breath, as if my name were the air he breathed. “I mentioned this to you when we first met. I don’t know why, but you remind me of someone,” he admitted. 

I gestured to the merchant, who was watching our exchange with quiet interest. "You’re keeping me from my purchase."

He glanced at the fabrics, then back at me. "Let me buy it for you."

I hesitated just long enough to let him think I was considering it, then nodded.

He paid the vendor without question, handing the cloth to me with a small, almost tentative smile. "A gift, then."

I took it carefully, allowing my fingers to brush against his just slightly before pulling away. "Thank you, Lord Norville."

His breath caught just slightly. "You know who I am."

I smiled, unreadable. "Everyone knows who you are."

We walked through the crowded street at an unhurried pace, the conversation shifting between harmless small talk and something heavier beneath the surface.

"I never asked," I said lightly. "Do you often buy things for women you don’t know?"

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Only the ones I don’t want to forget."

I tsked. "That sounds dangerous."

"Maybe it is." His expression shifted slightly, his gaze turning distant. "Or maybe I just don’t want to keep living as if everything is fine when it isn’t."

I should have let the moment pass. I should have turned the conversation back to something lighter, something safe.

But I couldn’t stop myself from asking, "And what isn’t fine?"

Lorran sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you ever feel like you made a choice, thinking it was the right one, only to wonder later if you had been blind to what truly mattered?"

The words landed heavily, settling in my chest in a way I didn’t like.

I swallowed, keeping my voice measured. "Regret, then?"

He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "I don’t know if it’s regret or just... the realization that I can’t change the past. But I think about it. More than I should."

I clenched my fingers around the silk in my hands, the fabric cool beneath my grip.

"You said I reminded you of someone," I murmured. "Was she the past you can’t change?"

His steps slowed. "She was someone I loved."

I didn’t know what I had expected to feel when he said it. Triumph? Satisfaction? A sense of victory that he had, after all, not forgotten me?

Instead, all I felt was something aching in my chest.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? I had spent so long trying to become someone new, only to find that the girl he once loved still lived under my skin.

"Then why aren’t you with her?"

Lorran let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "Because I was too much of a fool to realize what I had before it was gone."

I should have walked away. I should have left him with those words ringing in his ears, let him feel the weight of his own admission.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I smiled, small and unreadable. "Perhaps she thinks of you, too."

He let out a breath, something vulnerable passing through his expression before he masked it. "Even if she was still alive, I shouldn’t want that."

And yet, he did.

I had enough mercy not to say it aloud.

By the time I returned to my cottage, a dull unease had settled over me.

I closed the door behind me, silk bundle still clutched tight. The cottage felt colder than usual.

That’s when the knock came—too sharp, too sure.

The door opened without me turning the knob. Evan leaned through the frame.

"You’ve been busy," he said.

I turned away, leaving the door open behind me. "You always say that."

He followed me inside, shutting the door before moving toward the table. His presence felt different this time—less mocking, more intent.

"You saw him again," he stated, pouring himself a drink without asking.

I sat down across from him. "It wasn’t planned."

"Wasn’t it?"

His gaze held mine, unflinching. He wasn’t here to tease me.

I sighed, rolling the fabric Lorran had bought for me between my fingers. "He doesn’t recognize me."

"But he wants to." Evan leaned forward slightly. "And you want him to."

A muscle in my jaw twitched. "What are you trying to say?"

He took a slow sip, watching me over the rim of his glass. "I’m asking you what you’re trying to accomplish by keeping him in your orbit."

I exhaled sharply. "He’s useful."

Evan grimaced slightly, setting his drink down with deliberate care. "That’s the lie you’re telling yourself?"

I didn’t answer.

He shook his head, leaning back in his chair. "You don’t need him for information. You already control everything you need to bring him down. So why are you letting him linger?"

I stood abruptly, pushing away from the table. "You think you know everything, don’t you?"

Evan rose as well, his voice softer now. "I know you."

I hated how much truth sat in those words.

Evan reached for the silk I had left on the table, the one Lorran had given me. He lifted it, turning it over in his hands, then threw it back on the table.

Silence stretched between us, thick and unsettling.

Then, without warning, he grabbed my arms.

“Just remember one thing, Cassandra,” he said, his face inches from mine. “You’re mine. Not that two-faced bastard’s. Not anyone else. Mine.”

His lips crushed mine. I wanted to protest, but my lips were willfully disobeying me, as I kissed back, matching his brutal force.

When his tongue tried to get inside my mouth, my lips automatically pressed together.

“Open your mouth,” Evan’s mouth said against mine.

When I didn’t open them fast enough, he said more forcefully, “Open your mouth.”

I finally obeyed, allowing his tongue to thrust against mine.

He tasted sweet. He tasted divine. He tasted like he was…mine.

I almost lost my balance as he let go of his hold, taking a step back.

We stared at each other, wide-eyed, our breaths coming out in pants.

“Like I said,” he said in a low voice. “Mine.”

“G-get…out,” I said, then turned away.

By the time I looked back, he was already gone.