Chapter 2

2.

My head spun from the alcohol, and Caspian's image began to blur.

Caspian scooped me up, his voice a low, calculated lure:

"Teacher, may I?"

Before I could even process the words, my hands were already resting on his shoulders.

The noise from the feast faded into the distance.

He set me down firmly on the mattress, my mind still a beat behind the reality of the situation:

"Caspian..."

Before I could say anything more, his cool fingertip pressed against my flushed lips:

"Shh."

"Isn't it the teacher's duty to spoil his student?"

I nodded, hesitating.

His voice, intimate and laced with a touch of complaint, brushed against my ear:

"So, no matter what it is, you will agree, won't you?"

I looked up at him.

The corners of his eyes were rimmed with red, and beads of sweat clung to his forehead.

I had always been indulgent with Caspian. I lifted my fingers to brush a damp lock of hair from his forehead, tilting my head, and replied softly:

"What do you want to do?"

Caspian's brow smoothed, and he coaxed me gently:

"Silas Thorne, I won't accept the resignation letter you submitted the other day. Stay by my side. Is that alright?"

"Silas Thorne"―that was my name.

For the past decade, Caspian had never once used my given name.

He had always addressed me with the respectful, filial "Teacher."

But this time, saying "Silas Thorne," his voice was raspy with lust, sounding like a lover's whisper.

"Resignation?"

I thought of the document I'd filed days ago.

I shook my head, refusing:

"...I have to leave..."

His face darkened instantly at my reply, though he masked it quickly:

"Teacher, you are nearing thirty, yet you have no wife or child."

His voice carried a probing note:

"Is there someone else in your heart?"

I shook my head. I preferred men, and amidst the ruthless politics of the succession, I'd never had the luxury to entertain such thoughts.

He seemed pleased, his dull eyes suddenly sparkling.

He looked hopeful.

A bead of sweat from his brow fell onto my wrist.

It was scalding.

I felt dazed.

"Teacher, will you help me with the antidote?" Caspian's voice was completely ruined now, his once-cool fingertips turning searingly hot.

His breathing grew heavy.

His clothes hung loose, exposing the skin of his chest.

The heat of his breath was so intense it made the tips of my ears burn red.

"How do I help?" I asked, my face full of bewilderment.

Caspian leaned in and kissed the corner of my lips.

The scent of cedar on his body melded with the taste of wine on my lips, lingering long after.

Heat, burning, chaos, dizziness―and the cloying, sweet scent of perfume.