(Aria's POV)
The morning sun poured through the cathedral windows, slicing the stone floor with golden light. Yet no warmth reached me. My heart still pounded with the echo of last night's revelation: Leo, the man I had trusted, the man whose presence had become a lifeline, was not what he seemed.
I moved mechanically through the day, performing my duties with trembling hands. Even the familiar comfort of Sister Agnes' presence could not soothe the storm inside me. She noticed, of course.
"Aria," she said softly during vespers, placing her hand over mine, "you've been distant. The prayer of the heart cannot be hidden, child. Tell me—what burdens you?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I… I am simply tired, Sister," I whispered. "Perhaps my mind wanders too much."
Her eyes narrowed, perceptive and kind. "Tired or troubled? There is a difference. And you must not carry it alone."
I could only nod, the weight of guilt and confusion pressing against my chest.
By midday, I found myself in the library courtyard, hoping to steal a moment of clarity. That hope evaporated the instant I saw him.
Leo stood beneath the fountain's cascading water, his dark hair catching the sunlight. His posture was composed, effortless—every movement controlled, precise. Cassian lingered at the edges of the courtyard, ever-watchful, a silent blade cloaked in civility.
My heart betrayed me instantly. Despite the knowledge of his deception, every instinct I possessed—the flutter in my chest, the quickening of my breath—was drawn to him.
"Aria," he said lightly, voice calm and warm, as if nothing had changed. "You seem… distracted. Is something troubling you?"
I forced a tight smile. "I am well, Father Leo," I lied, though my voice cracked under the effort.
He stepped closer, subtle enough to not attract attention, yet the space between us became charged. "Well? Perhaps… but I see more than you think. Your hands tremble. Your eyes wander. And still… your soul does not rest."
My chest tightened. How could he know? I had tried to hide it, tried to convince myself that my fascination with him was fleeting, meaningless. And yet, here he stood, reading me as if my thoughts were open pages.
"I… I am simply… tired," I whispered, the lie bitter in my mouth.
His lips curved faintly. "Tired, yes… but not from labor, from worry? From secrets you cannot speak aloud?"
My throat tightened, but I said nothing. Every fiber of me warned that he was closer to the truth than I could bear.
Leo's gaze softened for a fleeting moment, and I allowed myself a shallow breath. "Do not worry for me," I whispered. "I am managing."
He smiled, subtle, dangerous, like sunlight glinting off steel. "Ah… but managing does not mean at peace. You cannot fool me, little dove."
My stomach knotted, my pulse hammering. "I… I do not understand," I admitted, voice barely audible.
"Of course," he murmured, tilting his head, eyes glimmering with amusement and something darker beneath. "And yet… I understand more than you realize."
I froze, heart stuttering. A creeping, cold realization began to form.
"Aria," he continued, stepping closer, his voice low, intimate, coaxing, "do you remember last night, in the corridors near the vestry? The quiet shadows… the sound of my conversation ?"
My breath caught. I had… yes. I had listened. I had not meant to, but my curiosity, my fear, my need to understand—it had driven me closer, hidden in the shadows.
Leo's eyes never left mine, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I know you were there. You were listening. Careful, quiet… yet undeniably present."
I froze. My chest tightened, my cheeks burned with shame. How could he know? My thoughts scattered, caught between fear, humiliation, and a flicker of something more… something dangerous.
"You…" I whispered, trembling. "You… you knew?"
"Of course," he said softly, calm, almost tender. "Do you think I would not notice the little dove who flits in the shadows, drawn to my voice? Your heart betrays you, Aria. Just as it betrays your body and your desire."
Every word was a dagger and a thrill at once. My body reacted despite my fear—pulse racing, stomach tightening, breath hitching. He did not touch me, yet the weight of his awareness pressed in, intimate, inescapable.
"Why… why are you telling me this?" I whispered, part frightened, part aching with the pull I could not deny.
Leo's smile deepened, subtle, magnetic. "Because you must understand that nothing here is accidental. Not my presence. Not your thoughts. Not even your curiosity."
I wanted to shrink away, to flee, to hide in the sanctuary of ignorance. Yet my feet remained planted. My gaze stayed locked with his.
"Do you… do you wish to punish me?" I asked, voice shaking. "Or… or to humiliate me?"
"Neither," he said softly, stepping just close enough for the warmth of him to brush against my senses. "I am not cruel, Aria. But I am honest. And honesty… is dangerous when unprepared hearts are involved."
My lips parted, words failing me. My mind swirled with betrayal, longing, fear, and desire—all tangled into one impossible knot.
He tilted his head slightly, eyes locking with mine, voice dropping even lower, almost a whisper meant only for me. "You must confess your heart to yourself. No one else can do it for you. And if you hide behind guilt, or shame, or even fear… then the world will never see the truth you deny."
I trembled. My chest ached. Everything inside me wanted to run, wanted to scream, wanted to collapse under the weight of his presence. And yet, part of me—the part I despised for wanting him—leaned forward, desperate for more.
Leo smiled faintly, noting my reaction. "Do not be afraid, little dove. The truth is never as dangerous as the lies we tell ourselves. And you… you are closer to it than you realize."
My stomach churned, pulse hammering. I could not deny it—my curiosity, my longing, my desire—all of it had been laid bare, and he had seen every tremor.
Cassian, still at the edge of the courtyard, remained a silent sentinel, eyes scanning the surroundings, ensuring no one interrupted this fragile, electric exchange.
Leo's gaze softened, almost tender now, yet edged with something dark beneath. "Tonight," he murmured, "we will speak again. And you will have the choice: to confront what you have heard, what you have felt, or to bury it in silence."
And with that, he turned, robes flowing, leaving me standing frozen, my mind and body trembling, caught in the realization that my secret had been exposed—and that he had done it with calm, deliberate charm.
I sank to the stone bench beneath the archway, fingers clutching the hem of my dress. My heart raced, my chest a storm of confusion, desire, and fear. I had been caught, seen in my weakness, and yet… the danger thrilled me.
The pull of Leo—his subtle power, his dangerous charm, the way he could see me and understand me without words—had never been stronger. And I knew, with a painful certainty, that nothing would ever be the same.
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