The hour before her last supper with Caspian found Rosalind outside amidst the falling snow and trees. The day wrapped its perpetual gray around her like an embrace. Rosalind lifted the hood of her gray cape and blended into the fog. The days had grown darker. Whenever sun shone was nothing more than dirty rays, every one of them tainted by the mist. Even though it was difficult to see more than a few feet in front of her, Rosalind carried on further from the manor until she came across a small patch of land untouched by the snow. A spot, no larger than a fist, boasted bright green. From the green sprouted a small cluster of wildflowers. Known for their mundane colours, Rosalind had never seen a real flower in any shade other than white or some form of yellowy-beige, but the buds growing before her bore a magnificent shock of red, purple, and orange. Kneeling before them with a smile, she thought they were exquisite. Rosalind stroked the dainty petals, whispered of their beauty, then with care, plucked them from the ground and brought them to her nose. Their perfume reminded her of happiness. The sweetness lingered long after she lowered the bouquet and pulled a ribbon out of her hair to bunch the flowers together.

Rosalind's thoughts moved to Troy. Will I be able to see him tonight? Tomorrow I will be gone and I may never see him again. The fall of snow covered any track Troy may have left. There was no telltale whimper among the trees, no crunching of branches to indicate his whereabouts. The world around Rosalind stood stark and silent. Yet it was not just the thought of leaving the younger lord that brought sorrow to her, it was that she would never see Caspian again. She would not be able to speak to Clairie about the way he made her feel. No one would ever be able to know that she had fallen for the Borgo Beast in an UnGodly and unforgivable way. And it was he whom she wanted to carry back with her. 

As the sun began to lower into the ground, Rosalind returned back into the manor with a heavy heart to dine with Caspian for the last time. With every step she took, she knew the only words she would ever hear about Caspian again were of the terror he would continue to spread. Yet my family will be safe. She thought, trying to find a speckle of joy. Something good has come out of this. My father and brothers will forever be out of harm's reach. Caspian promised he would never harm them and a man's word is a man's honor. Nearing the manor, Rosalind paused. She watched a flock of magpies perch upon the roof, their black wings tucking around their bodies to keep the chill off their bones. When one arched its head towards her and glared with red eyes, Rosalind picked up a ball of snow and hurled it its way. "Flying beast!" she hollered. Though the ball of snow did not even come close to the birds, the magpies let out a caw and took to the sky where they vanished into the mist.

Rosalind grinned at the frightened birds then entered the manor.

She set her cloak on a settee in the hall and headed deeper into the home. Wearing one of her own white gowns, the snow which had followed her in was invisible everywhere except for her dark hair. As she entered the dining area, the flakes shimmered in the ivory strands.

When Rosalind heard Caspian walking down the hall, every thought of Troy and the birds faded like vapor from a kettle. Her attention turned to the entrance of the dining area where the lord entered and stood at the threshold with his gaze fixed upon her.

For one breath-stopping second, glacier-blue eyes were all Rosalind could see. She felt as if she were still in the fog and Caspian was the only beacon of light. When she blinked and shook herself back into the present, she could not help but let her own gaze fix upon him. He wore a black cape with a silver fur trim over a black ruffled shirt and black trousers that clung to him like a second skin. Crawling half-way up his calves were black leather boots with silver toes and heels. When he bowed to her, he kept his gaze raised so that his eyes never left her face.

In her own white gown, they could have been bride and groom.

"My lord." Rosalind wet her lips. "You look very handsome tonight."

Caspian rose and walked towards her. "For a beast you mean," he said in a low rumble as he took her hand and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles.

Rosalind shook her head and Caspian saw the last of the snowflakes melt away in her hair. "No." She paused as her free hand tightened nervously around her small bouquet. "For a man."

Caspian took a step closer and brought his hand to her hair. Taking a strand around his finger, he curled it and pulled her closer. "Tomorrow, I lose you," he whispered sorrowfully.

Touching her lashes together, she sighed. Parting was a tormented sorrow. But for both their sake she managed a small smile and stole one of the purple flowers from the bunch. "I found these in your garden. I have never seen flowers this colour before."

Caspian's finger slowly released her curl. He nodded to the small blossom. "They show up once every ten years. They are no match for your beauty."

Rosalind inched up and slipped the purple flower in a buttonhole of the cape. "I will miss your words."

Caspian let out a small, pained moan. "And I will miss everything about you." He hooked his index under her chin and tilted her head to him.

As she looked into his eyes, unaffected by wine, or the Dragon's Tongue, or by anything else, Rosalind knew she had fallen. Never would she be able to fly without him by her side. Her days, her nights, every thought had the shape of him. Not even the goodness of Troy had been able to shatter this wretched thing she felt when she was near Caspian. He was her wings, black and baleful like the hell he had spread over Transylvania. When a tear slithered down her cheek, Caspian scooped it up.

The tear glistened on Caspian's finger. Slowly it began to morph into a shard of ice and that shard blossomed sharp tips creating a crown that he placed upon her head. Plucking a few sprigs of mistletoe from a vase, he wound it around the fine points then bowed his head towards hers. "You and I..." he whispered, barely making any sound.

"Without you, I will never be the same." Rosalind knew the woman going back home her family would be another. One which had allowed the Borgo Beast to enter the core of her existence. "You have marked me in ways which bring me joy and sorrow. I shall keep you in my heart, where I keep every mad, shocking, beautiful thing...Caspian." 

Upon hearing her say his name, a deep growl ebbed from the lord. With an understanding the rest of the world would never share, he brought her hands to wrap around him then lifted her. Every little fragrant flower fell like confetti at their feet. 

The ethereal dress made it easy for Rosalind to clasp her legs around Caspian as he pushed her against the wall and brought his mouth to her neck. When he bit, Rosalind stiffed a cry but encouraged him by tightening her hold on him.

As Caspian fed, he began to grind against her achingly slow.

In her line of vision, Rosalind saw the world shatter. Splinters of silver and white fell among black and gray. Everything was illuminated before it went dark. Shadows escaped from the wall, their tentacle arms moved towards the couple. Every faceless entity knelt before them and worshiped them. Between the fortress of material, Rosalind felt how hard he was. "Take me to your chamber," she managed to utter through a fury of moans. She would have him, if only once. Even if it destroyed her and everything around her.

Caspian licked her wound shut and brought his face to hers, their noses touching. "Do you really want this?" he asked as he lowered her carefully.

Rosalind had felt his hardness when he rubbed against her, but when she brushed her hands over it, the lord cried out mercifully. "Tell me you want this as much as I do," he begged as he placed his hands on either side of her head and let her continue stroking.

Before Rosalind could reply, an almighty crash was heard. Startled by the angry sound, the pair turned to see a large white cake splattered on the floor, the strawberries used to pretty it up lay in a mess and the plate was a few feet away. Agnes stood, white icing and berries all over her shoes and apron. The look of utter mortification was undeniable. "I made a special dessert for your last night, my lady," she said weakly. "I had been growing th...the...berries especially for you..." Agnes brought her hand to where her cross lay and sucked in a trembling breath. "Forgive me for...intru..." the maid's words faded as syllables slipped from her lips and fell next to the cake.

Rosalind stood flustered and frozen. Agnes looked whiter than the cake.

"We will excuse ourselves while you clean this mess," Caspian said sharply and moved to stand in front of Rosalind. "What you saw here you never did, maid." His tone was brash. "Am I understood?"

Agnes nodded vigorously yet she cast glances to Rosalind.

Caspian continued, "Whisper this to the walls and I will have your tongue."

For a foolish beat, the maid worried the younger woman was being abused. Yet the icy crown on her hair and the way she had been touching the lord did not indicate such. What they had been doing was consensual!

When Rosalind slipped her hand into Caspian's, Agnes gasped. She bowed to them and hurried off into the kitchen to get a bucket and rags.

Rosalind looked up at the lord when he hissed, "She deserves to be beaten." It was Agnes' cross that kept the lord's wrath at bay even in times of unnatural anger.

"No." Rosalind pulled Caspian to face her. "We should not have been doing what we were, least not in an area that is not private."

Caspian glared at the kitchen door in a rage.

Rosalind touched her fingers to his cheek and turned his face to her. "It is our last night together," she reminded him. Feeling uncertain about inviting herself to his bedroom again, she offered another option, "Let us go into your library, just you and I." She gave him a butterfly smile and led him away.