The candle's flame flickered, casting long shadows against the walls. Camilla's breath caught in her throat as the figure outside took a step closer, the faint crunch of gravel breaking the night's stillness.
"Who's there?" she called softly, praying it wasn't another messenger with another threat.
The shadow moved again — and then stepped into the silver wash of moonlight.
Her heart stumbled.
"Xavier," she whispered.
He was dressed in dark riding clothes, his hair slightly wind-tossed, his eyes sharper than the night itself. He looked like he'd crossed miles without pause, drawn here by something he couldn't ignore.
Without waiting for an invitation, he swung himself over the low garden wall and strode toward her window. "You weren't going to tell me, were you?" His voice was low, almost accusing, but beneath it was something else — hurt.
Camilla's pulse raced. "I… I didn't know how."
He stopped beneath her window, looking up at her as though the space between them was unbearable. "I heard about the man. And the note."
Her stomach tightened. "Who told you?"
"I have people who watch over you, Camilla. I knew the moment it happened." His gaze burned into hers. "And yet, you still thought keeping it from me was the right choice?"
"I didn't want to pull you into this," she said, her voice trembling. "If someone's threatening me because of you—"
His jaw clenched. "Then they've already pulled me in. There is no you without me in this fight."
The words lodged in her chest, dangerously close to unraveling her resolve.
She glanced toward the hallway, half-expecting her family to appear. "You shouldn't be here. If anyone sees you—"
"Then I'll leave," he interrupted, "but not until you promise me something."
Her heart pounded in her ears. "What?"
"That no matter what this is — no matter who's behind it — you won't push me away again. We face it together. Or not at all."
The determination in his voice was unshakable, the same as the night she'd left the manor. She swallowed hard, nodding once.
Xavier's expression softened. For a moment, the danger faded, replaced by the pull that had always existed between them. "Meet me tomorrow. The clearing, at dusk."
Before she could respond, he stepped back into the shadows, disappearing into the same night from which he came — but not before she saw the promise in his eyes.
And just like that, she knew there was no walking away.