Cassian sat upon his mother's grave, a single white rose turning slowly between his fingers.
Roses had always been her favorite. He remembered how her face would soften at the sight of them.
He had not been there to give her one in her final days. Had not been there to hold her hand, to hear her last words, to tell her just how much he loved her. He had been buried in darkness while she faced the end alone.
The thought settled heavily in his chest, pressing inward until it became difficult to breathe.
She had waited for him. He knew that she did. Waited until hope had thinned into something painful, until grief had hollowed her out the same way hunger had once hollowed him. And he had arrived too late—not just to save her, but even to say goodbye.
A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye.
Cassian lifted his hand and wiped it away at once, his expression hardening as though the weakness offended him. No amount of tears would bring her back. No amount of grief would lessen the ache carved deep into his bones.
"I'm so sorry that I wasn't here with you." He whispered, his eyes still glued on the name engraved on the stone. Placing the rose on the grave, he finally pushed himself up. "I will make sure that whoever was responsible for all these will slowly pay.
Cassian lingered for a brief moment, then turned away and left.
*********
On the other side of the palace, morning unfolded gently, the kind of calm that settled only in the early hours before duties fully claimed the day. Sunlight slipped through the gardens in pale ribbons, brushing dew from trimmed hedges and stone paths.
Mira moved briskly between them, a small bowl of food balanced in her hands as her eyes scanned the greenery.
"Ginger," she muttered under her breath. "Come back here."
The cat flicked its tail at her from beneath a low shrub, orange fur bright against the greenery. The moment she took a step closer, it darted away again.
"Why are ginger cats always like this?" she complained quietly, hurrying after it. "Acting like spoiled little ball of fur when all I'm trying to do is feed you."
Ginger wove through the garden paths with practiced ease, slipping around a bend as if he knew the palace better than anyone who lived in it. Mira gathered her skirts and hurried after him, already preparing another lecture he would never listen to.
She rounded the corner—and stopped short.
The cat skidded to a halt near a man approaching from the opposite direction and promptly settled at his feet, curling around his boots as though it had been waiting for him all along.
Mira stared.
Of course he run from her all morning just to make her look ridiculous in front of someone else. She thought dryly.
Her gaze lifted to the man. He wasn't a guard. Nor did he carry the polished air of nobility. His clothes were plain. Dark hair framed his face, still faintly damp, and his eyes—dark and steady—rested on her with a quiet attentiveness that made her pause.
"Are you new here?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "If so, you've already won his loyalty."
She nodded toward the cat, who purred softly and rubbed against the man's boot.
~~~
Cassian looked down at the cat, then back at her. For a brief moment, something flickered across his expression. The girl's features appeared almost ethereal in the morning light, but it was the green of her eyes that held him still—clear, vivid, unsettling in a way he could not immediately place. Was she a witch?
He continued to watch as the girl crouched slightly, extending the bowl toward the cat with a careful patience that suggested this was not her first attempt. Ginger barely spared the food a glance, his tail flicking once before he turned his head away entirely.
The girl straightened, looking faintly embarrassed.
"He does this every morning, you'd think I was trying to poison him." She muttered.
Without a word, he bent down and picked the cat into his arms. Ginger did not flee. Instead, the cat allowed himself to be lifted, settling easily into Cassian's arms as though he had known him all along.
"Maybe he just has good instincts," he said.
The girl sighed, then let out a soft laugh. "If that were true, he'd stop running from the person who is feeding him."
She let out a slow breath, glancing at the cat as it settled comfortably against the his chest. "If he keeps this up, I might just let him starve out of spite."
Ginger purred louder, thoroughly unimpressed.
Cassian said nothing. He lowered the cat back to the ground, one hand lingering briefly as he stroked its back. Then he slid the bowl closer.
Ginger immediately began to eat.
A quiet sense of relief settled over her. She hadn't realized how tense she'd been until she no longer had to chase him through the gardens. At least this morning, she wouldn't fail her task.
When the cat finished, Cassian straightened. "All done."
Mira stepped forward, lifting the empty bowl. Her gaze lingered for a moment on Ginger, who had already returned to clinging to the man's leg.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "You saved me a morning's worth of running in circles."
She offered him a small, grateful smile before turning away, her steps light as she headed back toward the kitchens.