Lilian extended her hand, silently requesting for the small box.
Caelan seemed to subconsciously hesitate, studying her for a brief moment before placing it in her palm.
A part of him was curious.
He wanted to see what she meant by precautions, and what careful intent laid behind her simple request. Despite himself, he felt a quiet, unwelcome will for her to prove her innocence. He could never quite anticipate her thoughts, nor predict how she would respond, and that unsettled him far more than he cared to admit.
The hairpin was a treasured family heirloom. It was only natural that it would matter far more to him than it ever could to her. She never intended to be his wife so she was still a suspect. His house had been responsible for her father's death, after all, though not without convincing cause.
Still, the truth did little to ease the weight of it since Lilian was adamant on believing that her father was innocent and was accused unjustly.
