the Villainess they took for granted

Chapter 50: Chapter 50: The Second Night

The second shelter was better.

Not good.

Marian felt it was important to maintain standards.

But better.

The roof had fewer holes.

The walls actually met one another in most places.

And there was even evidence that travelers occasionally used it.

Which meant it was only moderately terrible instead of completely terrible.

Progress.

The fire burned steadily in the center of the shelter.

Outside, darkness settled over the forest once more.

The sounds were different tonight.

Less threatening.

Which should have comforted Marian.

Instead, it worried her.

Because yesterday she had hated everything.

Today she was becoming accustomed to it.

And that seemed dangerous.

Very dangerous.

Cassian sat across from her.

Carving something into a small piece of wood with his knife.

Marian watched for several moments.

Then longer.

Then realized she was watching.

Wonderful.

Just wonderful.

"What are you making?"

Cassian glanced up.

"A spoon."

Marian stared.

"A spoon."

"We require one."

"We survived yesterday without one."

"We were uncivilized yesterday."

The answer was immediate.

Perfectly serious.

Marian laughed.

Actually laughed.

The sound echoed through the shelter.

Cassian looked pleased with himself.

As he should not have.

"You are ridiculous."

"Perhaps."

"You are carving cutlery in the middle of a forest."

"We must preserve standards."

Marian pointed accusingly.

"Those are my words."

"They’re excellent words."

The traitor.

For a while they sat in companionable silence.

A silence that should have felt awkward.

It didn’t.

That realization lingered.

Unwelcome.

Persistent.

Marian poked at the fire.

Then asked:

"Were you always going to become a duke?"

Cassian paused.

The question seemed to surprise him.

"A strange thing to ask."

"I am stranded in a forest. I reserve the right to be strange."

"Fair."

The corner of his mouth lifted.

Then his expression softened slightly.

"No."

Marian blinked.

"No?"

"I wasn’t expected to inherit when I was younger."

That caught her attention.

She sat up straighter.

"Why not?"

Cassian stared into the fire.

For a moment, the playful version of him disappeared.

"I had an older brother."

Silence.

Marian froze.

Immediately.

Because she knew.

The moment he said it, she knew.

There was a reason she’d never heard anyone mention a brother.

A reason the name had never come up.

The realization settled heavily between them.

"Oh."

The word came quietly.

Cassian nodded once.

The fire crackled.

Neither spoke for several seconds.

"He died when I was sixteen."

Marian’s chest tightened.

Because suddenly several things made sense.

The responsibility.

The restraint.

The way Cassian carried expectations without ever speaking of them.

The realization that perhaps he hadn’t chosen any of it.

Perhaps it had been placed on him.

Just as certain expectations had been placed on her.

"I’m sorry."

The words felt inadequate.

Hopelessly inadequate.

Yet they were all she had.

Cassian looked toward her.

For a moment she saw something she had never seen before.

Not the duke.

Not the charming man.

Not Adrian’s cousin.

Just grief.

Old grief.

The kind that never completely leaves.

Then it was gone.

Hidden once more.

"Thank you."

The answer was simple.

Quiet.

And somehow that made it worse.

Marian looked at the fire.

Unsure what to say.

For perhaps the first time since meeting him, she wanted to comfort him.

The realization startled her.

Not because it was inappropriate.

Because it felt natural.

And that was far more dangerous.

To her immense relief, Cassian spoke first.

"What about you?"

Marian blinked.

"What about me?"

"What did you want to be?"

The question caught her completely off guard.

For a moment she simply stared at him.

The fire crackled softly between them.

Outside, the wind moved through the trees.

What did she want to be?

A strange question.

Not because she didn’t know the answer.

Because nobody had ever cared enough to ask.

Marian thought for a moment.

Then smiled.

A little sheepishly.

"I’m not sure what I want to be, but what I want is a life of uninterrupted delight."

Silence.

Cassian stared.

"A what?"

"A life of uninterrupted delight."

His expression remained blank.

Marian sighed dramatically.

"Must I explain everything?"

"Apparently."

She pointed toward the fire.

"As little responsibility as possible."

Cassian nodded slowly.

Already amused.

"I see."

"I wish to wake up whenever I choose."

"A noble ambition."

"I wish to eat expensive desserts."

"A worthy pursuit."

"I wish to spend money recklessly."

"Of course."

"I wish to purchase ridiculous things I don’t need."

"Naturally."

"I wish to nap whenever the mood strikes me."

Cassian laughed.

The sound echoed warmly through the shelter.

Marian ignored him.

Entirely.

"I am serious."

"I can tell."

"I wish to do absolutely nothing useful."

"Now you’re becoming ambitious."

Marian pointed at him accusingly.

"You asked."

"I did."

"And now you’re mocking me."

"I am admiring your honesty."

The answer surprised her.

The amusement remained in his eyes.

But there was something else too.

Something softer.

Something genuine.

Cassian shook his head.

"I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone willing to admit that."

Marian smiled.

"Most people lie."

"They usually do."

"They say things like serving the kingdom or changing the world."

"And you don’t?"

"I would like the world to leave me alone while I eat pastries."

For a moment Cassian simply stared.

Then he laughed again.

Helplessly this time.

The sound filled the shelter.

And Marian found herself laughing too.

When the laughter finally faded, Cassian looked at her.

Really looked at her.

The firelight danced across his features.

A strange warmth entered his expression.

"That might be the most honest answer I’ve ever heard."

Something fluttered unexpectedly inside her chest.

Small.

Dangerous.

Marian immediately looked back at the fire.

"Honesty is an underrated virtue."

"Not in politics."

"Then politics sounds exhausting."

Cassian smiled.

And for a moment, neither spoke.

The silence that settled between them felt comfortable.

Far too comfortable.

Which was becoming a recurring problem.

Outside, the temperature continued dropping.

The cold crept slowly through the shelter.

Persistent.

Relentless.

Marian ignored it.

Naturally.

Ignoring problems was one of her specialties.

Unfortunately, her body disagreed.

An hour later she was shivering.

Violently.

Cassian noticed immediately.

The traitor noticed everything.

"You’re cold."

Marian glared.

"Thank you. I was wondering."

Cassian sighed.

A long-suffering sigh.

The sort usually reserved for difficult children.

Marian found this offensive.

"Come closer to the fire."

"I am close to the fire."

"Closer."

"Cassian—"

"Marian."

The use of her name should not have affected her.

It did.

Annoyingly.

Eventually she moved.

Slightly.

Then slightly more.

Until she sat much nearer the flames.

The improvement was negligible.

The cold remained.

The fire simply wasn’t enough.

Both of them knew it.

Neither wanted to say it.

Because saying it would create another problem.

And they already possessed plenty of those.

The silence stretched.

The fire crackled softly.

Outside, the wind howled.

Then Cassian spoke.

Quietly.

Matter-of-factly.

As though discussing weather.

"We’ll lose heat overnight."

Marian immediately knew where this was going.

"No."

"I haven’t suggested anything."

"You were about to."

"I was."

The honesty was deeply irritating.

"Cassian."

"Marian."

"Absolutely not."

"You are freezing."

"I am managing."

"You are shaking."

The betrayal of her own body continued.

Marian hated it.

Several minutes passed.

Neither moved.

Neither yielded.

The wind outside strengthened.

Cold air slipped through the walls.

The fire burned lower.

Then another shiver ran through her.

Violent enough that she couldn’t hide it.

Cassian watched.

Said nothing.

Which somehow made it worse.

Because he was waiting.

Waiting for her to surrender.

The infuriating man.

Marian stared into the fire.

Then muttered:

"I hate you."

Cassian smiled.

Slowly.

Victorious.

"That isn’t a no."

The traitor.

The absolute traitor.

An hour later they sat beneath the same blanket.

Backs against opposite sides of the shelter wall.

Shoulders touching.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Entirely practical.

Entirely necessary.

Entirely disastrous.

Marian could feel his warmth.

Steady.

Constant.

Human.

The awareness made sleep difficult.

Very difficult.

Beside her, Cassian remained unusually quiet.

Perhaps he was experiencing the same problem.

The thought offered surprising comfort.

Eventually exhaustion won.

It always did.

The fire burned low.

The wind softened.

And sometime during the night, both drifted asleep.

Neither realizing that by morning the distance they had worked so hard to maintain would be gone.

And neither realizing that waking up would be far more dangerous than falling asleep.

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