The sky grumbled lowly, a warning tremble across the heavens. It had been a long, stifling day. The gardens behind the ducal mansion stood quiet, flowers drooping slightly under the weight of the coming storm. Most of the household had retreated indoors—but not Derick.
He didn't mind the rain. In fact, it suited his mood.
With his hands in his pockets, Derick leaned against a tree, eyes scanning the marble path. It had been weeks since his return to the past, and his revenge plan was unfolding quietly, carefully. But… he hadn't planned on her.
Liora.
He found himself drawn to her more and more each day. She was nothing like her sister. There was a light in her that hadn't dimmed despite how she was treated. That light both comforted and haunted him. She reminded him too much of the girl who'd died in his arms—because she was her.
A soft humming sound pulled him from his thoughts. He turned his head and saw her.
Liora stood a few feet away, head tilted up to the sky, letting the first raindrops fall onto her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips curved gently. She looked… free.
"Are you just going to stand there staring at me?" she asked suddenly, eyes still shut.
Derick blinked. "You knew I was here?"
"Of course," she said with a small laugh. "You always come to this garden around this time."
He looked away, a little embarrassed. "Coincidence."
She opened her eyes and looked at him. "You're always watching me."
His breath caught. "You're imagining things."
"No," she said softly. "I'm not."
The rain came faster now, soft and cool. Liora turned away and walked onto the center path, spinning once, her arms outstretched.
"I used to love playing in the rain," she said. "When I was little. Before… before everyone started blaming me for existing."
Derick's fists clenched.
"They're fools," he said.
She looked over her shoulder, smiling. "That almost sounded like you care."
He didn't respond. His gaze was unreadable.
She took a step toward him. "Dance with me."
"What?"
"In the rain," she said, holding out her hand.
"You're insane."
"Maybe," she said, "but it's better than being numb. Come on, just for a minute."
He hesitated. This wasn't part of the plan. Getting close to her… letting his heart slip… it was dangerous.
But then he saw her eyes—full of warmth, of belief, of something he hadn't felt in a long time. Trust.
He took her hand.
They stepped into the open rain, her laughter ringing like music as she guided him through clumsy, improvised steps. She didn't care that her shoes were muddy or her hair was wet. And slowly… he stopped caring too.
For just a moment, he wasn't the boy consumed by revenge. He was just Derick—dancing in the rain with the girl who made his world a little less dark.
Then thunder cracked, and they both froze. Liora gasped and stumbled slightly, and Derick caught her by the waist. They were suddenly close—too close.
Her smile faded, and her cheeks flushed. "You're… really warm."
He stared at her, droplets sliding down his face. His heart thudded in his chest, loud and terrifying.
"Liora…" he murmured, almost inaudibly.
She looked up at him, eyes wide, searching.
But before either could speak, a voice called from the mansion. One of the maids.
"Lady Liora! You'll catch cold—please come inside!"
Liora sighed and stepped back, her hand slipping from his.
"I guess that's the end of our dance," she said quietly.
Derick didn't reply. He watched her walk back toward the mansion, the rain still falling around them. Just before stepping inside, she turned and waved at him.
Then she was gone.
Derick stood there, rain seeping into his clothes, heart pounding in a rhythm he hadn't felt in years.
This was bad.
He was starting to feel again.
And feelings… got people killed