Beneath the quiet
1225 Words
Morning came softly, as though the mansion itself wished to forget the chaos of the night before.
The golden light that filtered through the tall windows was gentle, but beneath that calm, something uneasy stirred.
The servants moved about silently, too afraid to speak too loudly. Their faces were pale, their steps cautious, their whispers sharp. The memory of snapping bones still haunted them.
> “They say he broke both arms.”
“For a mere insult?”
“He did it for that girl. The new one. The one who bewitched him.”
By noon, every corridor carried the same name — Isabel. Some spoke it with envy, others with pity. A few said she wouldn’t last long.
But none dared to speak when Xavier passed. His silence was heavier than any threat.
---
Upstairs, Isabel sat near the window, her fingers brushing the faint golden mark on her wrist — the same mark Xavier had placed there to protect her. It glowed faintly, like a hidden ember beneath her skin.
She didn’t understand it — not the mark, not him, not the strange way this world worked. Everything here felt too vivid, too alive, as if the air itself breathed differently.
She looked out at the mansion grounds, the dark mountains in the distance, and the endless stretch of sky that shimmered faintly even during daylight.
“How long have I been here?” she murmured to herself. “It feels like nights have passed.”
The door opened quietly behind her.
Xavier stepped in, his presence filling the room even before he spoke.
“You’re awake,” he said softly, his tone calmer than usual.
She turned to him, her brows furrowing. “Xavier… I’ve been here for days. Maybe even a week. But it doesn’t make sense. When I was in my world, the sun was still up when I—” she hesitated, searching his eyes, “—when you brought me here.”
He studied her for a long moment, then walked closer, his golden eyes steady on hers. “Time doesn’t move the same way between our worlds,” he explained quietly. “Here, the nights stretch longer. What feels like days to you is only a few hours there.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “So if I went back…”
“Barely half a day would have passed,” he finished for her. “You’ve spent nights here — but in your world, the sun hasn’t even set.”
She blinked in disbelief. “That’s impossible.”
A faint smile curved his lips. “Nothing about this world is ordinary, Isabel. Not even time.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them — soft, heavy, almost intimate. Then she looked down at her wrist again, watching the golden light pulse faintly. “And this mark… it ties me to you?”
“It protects you,” he said simply. “From everything that doesn’t belong near you — even from him.”
“‘Him’?” she repeated, frowning.
Xavier didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened slightly, and his gaze drifted toward the window. “It doesn’t matter,” he said finally, voice low. “He won’t touch you again.”
---
Later, at breakfast, the tension in the mansion still lingered. The servants avoided meeting Isabel’s eyes, bowing stiffly before scurrying away.
She felt the weight of every glance, every whisper that trailed behind her as she sat at the long table beside Xavier.
He didn’t speak much, but every now and then his gaze would flick toward her — protective, unreadable.
“They’re afraid of you,” Isabel said softly, breaking the silence.
He arched a brow. “They should be.”
“Because of what you did?”
“Because they forget their place.” His tone was flat, but his eyes softened when they met hers. “And because they saw something they shouldn’t have.”
“What’s that?”
He leaned slightly closer. “How far I’ll go for you.”
Her heart skipped, but before she could respond, the chandelier above flickered once — twice — before dimming completely.
Xavier’s expression shifted instantly. His head lifted, eyes narrowing as he sensed something shift in the air. The temperature dropped. The stillness grew heavier.
“Stay here,” he said sharply, rising from his chair.
“Xavier—”
“Don’t argue,” he cut in, voice low, controlled.
He moved to the window, scanning the courtyard. The sunlight had turned dull, as though something unseen had brushed across the sky.
The mark on Isabel’s wrist began to glow again — brighter, burning hot. She gasped softly, clutching it. “It’s burning!”
Xavier turned immediately, crossing the space in a blink. He caught her hand, muttering words she didn’t recognize. The mark’s glow steadied but didn’t fade.
“It’s reacting,” he said, eyes hardening.
“To what?” she whispered.
Before he could reply, the window shattered inward. A gust of icy air swept through the room, carrying a voice — faint, distant, almost like a memory.
> “She belongs to me.”
Isabel’s breath hitched.
Xavier’s eyes gleamed gold.
He moved in front of her, the air rippling with his power. “You dare whisper that name here again,” he said under his breath, every word like a blade. “Come out.”
But there was only silence. Then — laughter. Low, mocking, echoing through the trees outside before fading away completely.
The room stilled.
Xavier lowered his hand slowly, the light around him dimming. He turned back to Isabel, his gaze dark, his voice calm but sharp.
“He’s testing me,” he murmured.
“Who is he?” Isabel’s voice trembled.
“The one who marked you before I did.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Someone else… marked me?”
Xavier nodded once. “Before you ever met me, he claimed you. But he didn’t bind you completely. That’s why I could.”
She shook her head, trying to understand. “Why would he do that?”
His expression softened — but only slightly. “Because he doesn’t see you as a person. To him, you’re power. Something to own.”
Her chest tightened. “And you?” she asked quietly.
He met her gaze without hesitation. “I protect what’s mine,” he said simply. “But the difference, Isabel…” — his hand brushed her cheek gently — “…is that I’ll never take what isn’t given.”
Her lips parted, her heart beating fast, but before she could speak, the wind outside howled again. The light flickered, then steadied.
Xavier’s jaw tightened. “He’s close. The barrier will hold for now, but tonight… he’ll try again.”
Isabel swallowed hard. “What happens when he does?”
He turned toward the shattered window, his eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. “Then,” he said quietly, “he’ll learn why no one touches what belongs under my protection.”
The air around him shimmered faintly — golden threads of power weaving through the silence. Outside, the wind carried a faint, taunting laugh before dying into eerie stillness.
And in that quiet, Isabel realized that beneath the peace of this world, war was already waiting to begin.
- Writer
