Sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting warm gold across the quiet room. Camilla stirred slowly beneath the heavy blankets, the faint scent of cedar and rain still lingering in the air—Xavier's scent.
Her eyes fluttered open to find him watching her, a softness in his dark gaze that made her heart tighten. His hand was draped lightly over her waist, fingers tracing gentle circles on her skin.
"Morning," he murmured, voice low and rough.
"Morning," she whispered back, savoring the way his breath hit her cheek.
They lay like that for a moment, the world outside forgotten, cocooned in the fragile peace of dawn.
But the weight of the day hung quietly between them—today she would leave. The ceremony was over, Adrian had chosen his bride, and the other contestants were expected to return to their homes.
Xavier's fingers tightened slightly on her side, a silent plea not to go.
Camilla swallowed hard. "I should get ready," she said softly, breaking the stillness.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he traced the line of her jaw with his thumb, his touch feather-light but full of meaning.
"You don't have to leave," he said quietly, but the unspoken words—stay, don't go—hung in the air.
Her gaze dropped. "I have to. My family expects me home."
A shadow crossed his face, but when he spoke, his voice was steady. "Then promise me something."
She looked up, meeting his eyes. "Anything."
"Promise me you'll come back."
Her breath caught. "I will."
They rose slowly, reluctant to break the fragile connection that had formed overnight.
At the manor's grand entrance, the last few guests were gathering their belongings. Camilla's luggage sat near the carriage, ready to take her away.
Xavier stood beside her, his hand hovering near hers but not quite touching. The tension was electric.
"Goodbye, Camilla," he said, voice thick with emotion.
She reached for his hand, entwining her fingers with his. "Not goodbye," she corrected softly.
Their lips met then—a kiss heavy with promise and pain, the kind that speaks of longing and hope. When they finally pulled apart, Xavier's eyes searched hers.
"Come back to me," he whispered.
"I will."
As the carriage pulled away, Camilla watched Xavier's figure grow smaller, the ache in her chest a reminder that some connections refuse to be broken.