Chapter 106: Eyes in the dark
The drive home from the masquerade was more subdued than I expected. Caspian's hand remained on mine, thumb sliding back and forth gently as if trying to convince both of us that tonight was not dream. I sported the mask still stuck on my face, not willing to give tonight up to memory just yet. Outside the car window, the countryside night swept past in a tide of moon and shadow and it looked really beautiful and calm.
Caspian was taciturn, but I caught him looking at me occasionally—sprung, testing, reaching for something that I couldn't. He was always quietly observing me with tenderness in his heart but this time around, it made me feel really uneasy.
It was nearly two when we got back to the villa, our safe place. The path lights were still burning, their long golden fingers stretching along the cobblestones. I stood in the doorway, the old familiar tug of fear settling between my shoulders. Caspian sensed it too—I think he hesitated over the door handle more uncertainly than normal.
The villa welcomed us in silence. Too much silence. Even the air was silent, like the house was exhaling. It felt like there was an unseen presence observing the two of us with each step we took. I did not like to feel the way I was feeling at that moment.
I removed my heels by the stairs, the soft thud ringing unnaturally loud in the foyer. Caspian unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his bow tie, but his eyes never strayed from mine. They chased me like a question mark.
Do you want to take tea?" he asked me, his voice very low.
I nodded. "I need to take this dress off first because I feel like I am being squeezed by I, I hope you don’t mind.."
“Are you kidding? Why would you think I would mind?” Caspian asked me gently.
“I was just trying to be polite.” I replied him in a whisper.
I went up the stairs, tracing the fingers along the banister, the weight of the night on my shoulder blades. There was something in the silence of the house that reminded me that we had brought the masquerade from the grand ball into the house with us—except that now the masks had been removed, and the world was wretchedly naked, in a creepy type of way that would scare the living hell out of anyone, no matter how strong minded that person is.
I crept into our bedroom, took the dress off my body, and pulled one of Caspian's massive shirts over me. Comfort would have soothed me, but it did not. But I couldn’t lie that I felt a massive wave of relief as i put on the lighter and more spacious cloth and I could now breathe more comfortably.
I gently hurried down the stairs in time barefoot and disheveled to reunite with Caspian by the fire. A new log had been laid there and glowed golden nuggets of orange next to his face.
He glanced up as I entered. "You alright?" he asked me gently, with concern in his words.
I nodded, unsure. "There was a man following us tonight. I just know it."
His jaw locked. "I felt it too Lily."
That whispered admission sent a chill that wrapped around my chest. It hadn't been in my head.
I stepped closer to him, the hem of his shirt scraping against my legs. "Guess you think you know who he was?"
He didn't need me to explain.
“I don’t know.” He reached out and took my hand, tugging me gently to his chest. “But I’m not letting him near you.”
We stood like that for a while—holding each other, letting the fire crackle and pop. My heartbeat started to settle. The warmth of him, the familiar scent of his skin… it helped.
But the spell broke when Caspian’s phone buzzed on the side table.
He didn't glance at it immediately, but when he did, his expression altered. Faintly, initially. And then his lips puckered into a thin line.
"What is it?" I asked him.
He gave me the phone. It was a photo—took from a distance. Blurry, but unmistakably us, dancing at the masquerade.
No message. No number.
My throat tightened.
I stood before the front door, shivering with excitement. That was when I spotted the envelope—partly concealed under the welcome mat.
I rushed to it, ripped it open with trembling fingers. A letter within, typed and printed on white paper.
"You can play pretend all you want. But masks fall eventually. They always do."
No signature. No name. Only those words, those chilling words that send a wave of fear down your spine. Guarded and ominous.
I looked up at Caspian, my heart pounding. “He’s playing with us.”
He took the letter from my hands, read it silently, then moved to lock every door and window in the house, checking them twice.
“This ends now,” he said, voice steel-edged. “I will talk to security first thing in the morning.”
I did not struggle with it, but I was not safe either. The shadows on the walls at the corners of the room spread further than they should have. Every creak of the stairs upstairs made my skin crawl.
I sat in the living room for hours after Caspian went to sleep. The fire was down to embers, but I couldn't push myself back from the front windows. I knew there was nobody there—but I couldn't shake the vision of a person loitering for us still, at the edge of my eye.
When at last I crept into bed next to Caspian, his arm instinctively went around me. His warmth was comforting, but my mind was elsewhere—on the letter, the photo, the eyes in the dark that never quite left.
And one awful possibility howled above the rest:
What if the beautiful and grand masquerade ball was not a lie?
What if this—us, pretending we're fine—was?