Cassian caught up to Lysandra before she could make it far down the corridor.
"Lysandra."
She did not stop immediately. She only slowed for half a step before turning her head enough to acknowledge him. "What is it?"
"I want to talk."
Her expression barely changed. "Then talk."
"Somewhere else," Cassian said. "Unless you want the servants listening in from behind the walls."
For a second, he thought she might refuse him on the spot. Then she turned toward a side room without another word and pushed the door open. Cassian followed her inside, his slime bouncing after him before settling near the wall. The room was quiet, closed off from the rest of the manor, with only the fading light from the window falling across the floor between them.
Lysandra remained standing. "You have my attention. Say whatever it is you came to say."
Cassian let out a slow breath. "I'm not here to argue."
"That would be surprising."
"I'm serious." He kept his tone even, lighter than he actually felt. "I just want clarity for once. You haven't said a word to me the whole ride back. In there, you looked like standing in the same room as me was already exhausting enough. So I'd rather hear it directly."
She crossed her arms. "Hear what directly?"
"What you actually think of me. Of this." He gestured faintly between them. "Of the engagement."
For the first time, something sharper entered her eyes. "You truly want honesty now?"
Cassian gave a small shrug. "I'm starting to think honesty would be an improvement."
Lysandra looked at him for a long moment, as if measuring whether he had really earned the answer. When she spoke, her voice stayed controlled, cold in the way polished steel looked cold.
"Very well. I think this arrangement should never have happened."
Cassian held her gaze. "That much, I guessed."
"I do not believe you understand how humiliating this has been."
That made him smile faintly, though there was no humor in it. "I have a rough idea."
"No," she said, cutting across him. "You do not. You hear laughter and insults aimed at you. I hear them aimed at me as well. Do you know what people say? They ask how a daughter of House Valecrest ended up promised to a man whose greatest achievement is keeping a slime alive."
Cassian's eyes flicked to the little blue creature near the wall, then back to her. "You can say what you want about me. Leave the little one out of it. It hasn't done anything to you."
Her expression hardened another degree and drew in a slow breath, as if steadying herself after realizing that he truly meant to defend the slime in the middle of this conversation. When she spoke again, her voice came out even calmer than before, which somehow made it harsher.
"Do you understand what that proves?" she asked. "Even now, with this standing between us, you still sound like a man who does not grasp how deeply ridiculous all of this has become. This is precisely the problem, Cassian. You never seem to understand the full weight of what follows you."
The slime gave a small, cheerful bounce against the carpet as if it had been praised.
Lysandra's gaze snapped toward it.
Cassian glanced down. "I think he took that personally."
That only made her expression tighten further. "You see? You cannot help yourself. This is what people notice. This is what they remember. You carry the Vermond name, yet every time your presence is felt, it is through failure, awkwardness, or some fresh humiliation attached to that creature."
The slime wobbled proudly, then made another little "splash" before bouncing in a slow circle around Cassian's boots.
He sighed. "You're not helping."
Lysandra ignored him. "Do you know what your name means when people speak of you now? It means uncertainty. It means wasted potential. It means the eldest son of the strongest tamer family in the world somehow became the least impressive person in his own house." She held his gaze without blinking. "And because of this engagement, that mockery reaches me as well. Every laugh aimed at you drags my name with it."
Cassian's smile was faint and tired. "That sounds exhausting."
"It is degrading," she corrected. "And what makes it worse is that there is nothing to defend. If you had talent, people would wait. If you had results, people would be patient. If you had presence, they would at least hesitate. But you have none of that. You have a title on paper, an Elite Core that has led nowhere, and a slime that follows you through noble halls as though that is meant to be charming."
As if summoned by insult alone, the slime suddenly bounced toward Lysandra, stopped at her feet, and let out an eager little "splash."
She stepped back at once. "Keep that thing away from me."
Cassian looked down at it, then back at her. "He likes you. That's more than I expected, honestly."
"That is not amusing."
"It's a little amusing."
Her stare sharpened. "Lucien does not carry this kind of stain around him. He enters a room and people see certainty. They see talent, discipline, and a future worthy of respect. They see a man who strengthens the house tied to his name. Standing beside him raises one's standing. Standing beside you invites questions, pity, and ridicule." She paused, and when she continued, her voice lowered into something cleaner, colder. "That is the difference between you. He represents ascent. You represent decline."
The words landed cleanly. That made them sink deeper.
The slime, entirely unaware of the knife being pushed into its contractor's chest, bounced again and nudged Cassian's shoe. He gave it a brief look, then rested his hand lightly on top of it for a second.
Lysandra watched the gesture with open displeasure. "This is exactly why we need to speak seriously about whether this engagement should continue at all."
Lysandra held his gaze for another second, then said the words plainly.
"So answer me. Do you intend to keep this engagement?"
Cassian leaned one shoulder against the edge of a cabinet, his hand still resting on the slime for a moment before he let it drop. He already knew what the honest answer was. He could have given it cleanly, could have said yes or no and let the conversation end like something respectable.
Instead, the sting in his chest twisted into the kind of humor he always reached for when he had nowhere else to put it.
He gave her a small shrug. "I don't know."
Her eyes narrowed.
Cassian went on before she could cut in. "Being engaged to a beautiful girl has its benefits."
The silence that followed felt sharp enough to draw blood.
Then he gave her a crooked smile and a faint wink. "You know what I mean, right?"
For a heartbeat, Lysandra simply stared at him.
The disgust on her face changed shape. It was no longer the cold disappointment she had been carrying through the conversation. It was sharper than that now, mixed with offense, disbelief, and the kind of anger that came from feeling dirtied by the suggestion itself.
"I see," she said at last, each word clipped and precise. "So beneath all of this, that is what remains."
Cassian spread his hands slightly. "I'm only saying there are advantages."
"You are proving my point with every sentence you speak."
His smile thinned. "Then I suppose this has been productive."
Lysandra took a step toward the door. "More than you know. I had hoped that, somewhere beneath the embarrassment, there was at least a trace of dignity left in you. That was my mistake."
The slime gave a sudden little hop, as if objecting on his behalf.
Lysandra glanced at it with open irritation. "Even now."
Cassian looked down. "He's got strong opinions."
She put a hand on the door and pulled it open. "Whatever remains of this arrangement, it will not remain like this for much longer."
Then she walked out.
The door shut behind her with enough force to make the slime bounce straight up in surprise before landing with a soft wobble on the carpet.
Cassian let out a breath through his nose and looked down at the little blue creature. The smile he had worn a moment ago was already gone.
"Yeah," he muttered. "It's probably for the best."
The slime made a questioning little "splash."
Cassian crouched and tapped it lightly on the top. "I'm not planning to tie anyone to my bad luck. With this, they'll probably break the agreement soon enough. That's better, right?"
The slime bounced once, then twice.
When Cassian stepped back into the corridor, he caught movement through the open archway leading toward the garden. Lysandra had slowed near the stone path outside. Lucien was there already, waiting as if he had known exactly where she would come from. He said something low that Cassian could not hear. Lysandra answered, and this time the curve at her lips came easily. Lucien leaned slightly closer. She did not move away.
Cassian watched for a second, then turned his eyes elsewhere.
So that was how it was.
Maybe it had been that way for longer than he wanted to admit.