MEET CASSIUS
1255 Words
AMARIS
The castle rose through the mist like something carved from the bones of winter — all spires, silence, and cold light.
Amaris tugged her coat tighter, her gray sweater dress brushing just above her knees, her grayish-black heeled boots crunching softly over frost-bitten stone. Her hair fell loose, waves spilling around her shoulders as she followed her parents toward the grand staircase.
That was when she noticed him.
Leaning casually against one of the marble pillars stood a man who didn’t look like the other guards — no rigid posture, no uniform stiffness. He wore a dark tailored jacket embroidered faintly with the royal crest, his sword hanging loosely at his side. His brown curls framed a strikingly handsome face, and his eyes — sharp blue — glimmered like sunlight on ice.
When their eyes met, he smiled. A slow, knowing kind of smile.
“Well,” he drawled, voice smooth and warm, “they said the Grey family had arrived, but I wasn’t told they’d bring the weather with them — or someone who could make it look that good.”
Amaris blinked, half surprised, half amused. “Is that your version of a welcome?”
He pushed off the pillar, closing some of the distance between them. “It’s my version of honesty. I find it makes a stronger first impression.”
Her lips curved. “And who exactly am I making this strong impression on?”
“Prince Cassius of House Malek,” he said, giving a theatrical bow, though the grin didn’t fade. “Cousin to His Highness, occasional soldier, reluctant court favorite… and, apparently, your escort into the castle.”
Her brows rose slightly. “A prince and a soldier? That’s rare.”
Cassius tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “I find being useful keeps me from getting bored. And being charming—” his gaze swept down, then back up to meet hers “—keeps me from being forgotten.”
Amaris met his gaze evenly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
“I have a feeling you don’t have trouble being remembered.”
Cassius’s grin deepened, clearly delighted. “You’d be surprised how quickly people forget a face in this castle. But I’ll make an exception for you.”
Amaris responds sarcastically "I'm honored" while pressing a hand to her chest making him chuckle.
Before neither could speak, another voice cut through the moment- cool but also laced with restrained irritation.
“Cassius.”
The shift in Amaris’s pulse was immediate.
Elias stood a few paces away, posture straight, expression carved from ice. His gaze flicked between them, unreadable but weighted.
Cassius turned with a grin that was almost too casual. “Elias. Cousin. I was just welcoming our guests.”
“I can see that,” Elias said evenly. “Though I thought you had duties in the west wing.”
Cassius shrugged lightly. “I do. But I make exceptions when the company’s worth it.”
Elias’s tone didn’t change, but his stare sharpened. “Try not to mistake a royal guest for your next distraction.”
Cassius’s grin only widened. “Don’t worry. I’m very selective.” His eyes returned to Amaris, lingering a fraction too long. “Lady Grey, I do hope you’ll save me a conversation later. It’s not often I meet someone interesting enough to risk my cousin’s temper for.”
Amaris felt a flicker of heat rise to her cheeks — part embarrassment, part amusement. “I’ll… try to remember that.”
Cassius’s smirk softened, his bow lower this time, more genuine. “Please do.”
He turned and walked off, his laughter echoing faintly through the corridor.
Elias exhaled slowly, the sound just shy of a sigh. “You seem to attract trouble easily.”
Amaris folded her arms. “He was being friendly.”
“He was being Cassius,” Elias replied.
“And what does that mean?”
“That he’s never met something — or someone — he didn’t try to claim.” His voice dropped, softer now, his gaze fixed on her.
The air thickened, the weight of something old and unspoken humming quietly between them — until a court attendant approached to announce that the Greys were to be escorted to their guest chambers.
As Amaris followed her family up the stairs, Elias’s voice stopped her softly.
“The gardens are quieter after sunset,” he said, low enough that only she could hear. “If you need air.”
Her heart stuttered. “Maybe I will.”
---
The Castle Gardens
The garden stretched wide and wild beneath the evening sky — snow-dusted hedges and marble statues of angels and beasts half-hidden beneath frost. Pale lanterns glowed between branches, their light catching in Amaris’s hair.
They walked side by side down a narrow path, the silence between them taut with unspoken things.
“You’ve changed, or something just feels..different” Elias said at last.
“Something does feel different with you too” she answered.
He gave a small, humorless smile. “Maybe. But you still look at me like you expect me to be someone else.”
Amaris’s gaze lingered on the frozen fountain ahead. “Maybe I do. Maybe I’m still trying to remember who you were… or who they were.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Elias slowed. His breath clouded the air, his gloved hands clasped behind his back. “Do you remember something?”
“Flashes,” she admitted. “A face in the dark. A voice calling my name.” She hesitated. “Sometimes when I dream, I see fire. And wings.”
His expression shifted, the calm façade cracking just enough for her to glimpse the longing beneath. “Then we’re both haunted by the same ghosts.”
The wind stirred, brushing cold against her skin. He reached for her hand — tentative at first, as though testing if the world would allow it.
When their fingers touched, warmth surged between them — not just warmth, but recognition. The air shimmered faintly, rippling through the lantern light.
Amaris drew in a sharp breath as images flickered through her mind:
— a battlefield drowned in gold light,
— her own voice screaming his name,
— his hand, bloodied, reaching for hers.
It vanished as quickly as it came.
Her knees threatened to give, but Elias’s grip steadied her. Their eyes met — close enough now that the world beyond the garden blurred.
“Amaris,” he said.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The space between them felt alive but fragile, sacred. His thumb brushed against the back of her hand, tracing slow circles that made her chest ache.
Time felt as if it was to slow down — the snow falling slower, the air charged with something half divine, half dangerous.
Amaris broke the silence “Elias, if we keep—”
“I know,” he said softly, his breath misting against her cheek.
Then, as if on cue, a distant bell tolled from the tower — breaking the spell but not the tension.
They both drew back, their hands still intertwined.
“Perhaps,” Amaris said, voice trembling slightly, “the prophecy isn’t warning us to stay apart… but daring us to try.”
Elias’s gaze lingered on her lips before he forced himself to look away. “Then we’re already halfway doomed.”

- Writer
