Lorraine chuckling quietly because you said something that makes no sense but it's kinda sweet—you looked sweet.
There's such a heartwarming look in her eyes at the sight of you. She loves you. She'd explain gently why what you said isn't like that. But there'd be quiet amusement at how bewildered you look while she says this. You have always been so lovely.
She would smile and explain to you how what you said actually happens and then she'd kiss your cheek. "You're lucky you're sweet."
I’m sorry for the gap between chapters, however I tried to make this one a little more interesting as an apology. Shout out to @grifffins and @chiefofmilfs for a certain idea within this fic… and thank you to @renyfisher and @grifffins for reading this over for me first!
Tags-
@womankissersworld
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Your visits to church with Joan had become weekly, every Sunday she would take you alongside her, and every Sunday you would inch closer to her on the pew chairs, she of course was not oblivious to the fact, yet somehow Joan found herself allowing it to happen.
One particularly cold Sunday, you both strolled back home from church, your shawl doing little to keep you warm, when she, without a word, noticing your slight shivering and freckled goosebumps, linked her arm around yours. You glanced up to meet her gaze, yet again conflicted with your feelings for her, by simply looking into her chocolatey eyes. However for the moment you simply decided to appreciate the warmth of her hand resting on your elbow, smiling softly to yourself as your view drifted back to the outstretched path ahead of you. “You’re awfully quiet… for once.” Joan remarked. You glance at her momentarily. “Yeah, well perhaps I’m just basking in the joy of my company. Words aren’t always necessary.” She chuckles softly at that.
“Now that is something I never thought I’d hear you say.” Her eyes crinkled slightly as she smiled, a rare sight, quite beautiful. And her chuckle, that melodious sound made your heart soar. Your cheeks warmed slightly and so you turned your eyes back to the ground, almost in perfect timing as you arrived home. The tall, almost threatening walls of Miss Robichaux’s academy beckoned you closer. Joan, breaking the silence of your hesitation, spoke up. “I’ll see you later Y/N.” You turned back as she spoke, nodding softly, before making your way into the academy.
You never used to open the blinds when you lived at home, but here, it seemed so claustrophobic in your room, that opening them felt obligatory. Across the way from your room was Joan’s. You hadn’t taken much notice at first, not wanting to seem intrusive to your neighbour, but when you did accidentally catch a glimpse of her, a small awkward smile was all that passed. However tonight was different. After a brisk bath, you tottered your way back into your room, sounds of Maddison and Queenie yelling echoing throughout the halls. Before you could check to see if you had closed your blind, without thinking, you slipped off your towel, your bare body exposed to the atmosphere of your room. The wooden drawers of the dresser creaking slightly as your rummaged though for your nightie and underwear. Closing the drawer, a draft of cool air drew your attention to the window, your rosy buds hardening. And that was when you saw it, your breath hitched. Joan, standing by the window in her room, eyes glued to your figure. Mouth slightly agape, frozen in place. Before you could move, cover yourself, or speak, she pulled her curtain shut promptly. Oh god. Joan had just seen you in your entirety, naked. She had just seen you in your most vulnerable state.
Joan’s breathing grew heavy. She clutched the fabric of the curtain, dividing her view from your room, unable to let go. When she finally did, it was only because she felt a warm liquid trickle down her lip. Blood. She had been so lost in the sight of you, so lost in thought that her teeth’s grip on her lower lip had been unforgiving. Licking the redness away, she stepped back from the window, taking a seat on her bed. Her eyes glanced towards her bedroom door. Then to the window. To you. She pulled back the covers, revealing the smoothed sheets beneath, she slipped herself on top of them, lying flat to face the ceiling. Her heart raced, the space between her thighs was burning. She couldn’t. Masturbation was a sin. Joan tilted her head back against her pillow, running the pads of her fingers along her collarbone. The skin was hot, scorching. She trembled. “What am I doing?” She thought, as her fingers dipped down from her collar to slip beneath her nightgown…
Before long, she found herself circling the bud of her breast, moistening her fingers with her mouth. Her touch became more urgent, more needy, she thumbed her nipples, now using both hands to continue her ministrations on either side of her chest. Her back arched just slightly off the bed as her thoughts began to pool in… she pictured your fingers replacing hers. Oh yes… That was it. She yanked her hands back, taking sharp breaths. Before she could stop herself, Joan pulled her nightgown off over her head, leaving her in just a pair of underwear. Her eyes focused on the curtain again, her mind replaying you dropping your towel, and though she knew the lord would condemn her for it, she found herself slipping a hand beneath her underwear, a gasp escaping her. She’d never done this, never seeked her own pleasure. Joan hardly knew she could, after years of her husband thrusting for a quick thirty seconds then finishing within her, she hadn’t thought there could be much more to it. Oh was she wrong. Her fingers fumbled beneath the cotton of her underwear, stroking up and down the slick folds until she found it, that bundle of nerves that elicited a moan. A loud moan. Joan circled her middle and forefinger around her clit, her back arching up off of the mattress, her teeth once again digging into her bottom lip, but this time to suppress the sounds threatening to escape her. Images of you flashed across her mind, your hardened nipples, your trimmed hair peeking out from your pelvis, just slightly hiding your womanhood. God this is sinful.
She found herself coming undone just as quickly as she had started, gasps escaping her as her fingers worked faster, desperation taking over. As she came, her body writhed and collapsed back onto the bed beneath her. The sounds of her breathing echoing in the room. She was sweaty, exhausted, ecstasy ridden. And yet unbelievably guilty. She rolled onto her side, before sitting up, pulling on her nightgown again, and dropping to the floor beside her bed. “Oh Father, please forgive me, for I have sinned immensely.” Tears stung in her eyes, the religious guilt consuming her. How could she have gotten so lost in the moment that she had forgotten her faith? What were you doing to her?! She slumped down beside the bed in a bundle of tears. “I’m not sapphic. So why is my mind riddled with these thoughts?” She sobbed softly to herself, glancing at the curtain separating your two worlds. She sunk back into her bed, cradling herself within her blanket as her thoughts consumed her.
The marketplace was quiet at this hour, the last of the vendors long gone, leaving behind only a faint scent of spice and wax. My feet barely made a sound against the cobblestone as I walked, the night air curling around my skin. I should have been in my chambers, tangled in expensive silk sheets, feigning sleep beneath the heavy weight of my obligations. But the castle had felt more suffocating than usual tonight.
The talks of my engagement had begun.
I exhaled through my nose, rubbing at my temple as I let my feet guide me through the familiar streets, seeking solace in their emptiness. That was when I saw her.
She sat at the base of the fountain, her golden gown catching the soft glow of the lanterns. The moonlight bathed her in silver, accentuating the dark curls that cascaded past her shoulders. She was beautiful— breathtaking, really. But it was the way she sat, shoulders heavy, her brown eyes filled with something unreadable as she gazed into the water, that struck me the most.
She wasn’t from here.
I knew everyone in my kingdom, and I had never seen her before. So, I did what any reasonable princess would do. I walked up to her.
“You’re new,” I said, settling beside her on the fountain’s edge.
She looked up, an eyebrow arching at my intrusion. “Is that a problem?”
“Nope,” I mused, tilting my head. “Just an astute observation.”
She didn’t reply. Instead, she studied me, her dark eyes scanning my face with something like quiet amusement. I liked that she didn’t lower her gaze.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
She hesitated, as if weighing whether to answer. “Lilia. Lilia Calderu.”
“Calderu… You really aren’t from here, huh?” I said, surprised. Most people didn’t visit the kingdom unless they had business, and even then, they rarely lingered in the streets at this hour.
“So, where are you from?”
A pause— small, but noticeable. “Sicily.”
“Sicily?” I repeated, leaning forward with interest. “That’s… in Italy. And fairly far away.” I dipped my fingers into the cool fountain water, letting the ripples dance around my skin. “So, what brings you here, all the way from Sicily?”
She pressed her lips together. Her fingers trailed absentmindedly over the fabric of her gown. “Circumstances,” she said quietly.
“That’s vague.”
A soft breath left her nose— almost a scoff. Then, after a long moment, she spoke again. “A fever swept through my village,” she murmured. “And I was the only survivor.”
The words were quiet but heavy. The weight of them hung in the air, settling between us like an unspoken grief.
I reached out instinctively to take her hand but hesitated, retracting my fingers at the last second. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. And I truly meant it.
She glanced at me before turning back to the water. “It happened a long time ago.”
“It may have happened a long time ago,” I said softly, “but the feeling still lingers, does it not?”
She stiffened, her hands clenching around the folds of her gown. “I suppose it does.”
A quiet settled between us, broken only by the distant hum of the wind.
“Do you have anywhere to spend the night?” I asked, watching her face carefully.
She shook her head.
A brilliant idea struck me.
“Stay at the castle.”
She turned to me, confusion flickering across her features. “What castle?”
“My castle.”
Her expression shifted. Recognition. “Ah. So you’re the principessa.”
“Yep. Princess Y/N of the L/N household,” I said with a grin, finally introducing myself.
Lilia stood and curtseyed. “Ah, pardon me, I didn’t recognize you were royalty,” she said with a soft tone.
I waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine, you didn’t know.” I stood beside her. “Right, so, are you staying at the castle?”
“I must decline your invitation,” she said, dusting off her dress.
“Why?”
She gave me a pointed look. “Pardon me, but it’s a foolish idea.”
“Why?” I repeated.
“Why?” she echoed, as if she couldn’t believe I was asking. “You don’t know me, principessa. I could be a thief. Or an assassin.”
I grinned. “Well, if I were to die, at least I’d be dying at the hands of a very beautiful woman.”
Lilia blinked, then scoffed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’ve been told.” I clasped my hands together. “So? Are you going to stay?”
She slipped her hands out of mine. “No. I need to be out by dawn, anyway.”
I huffed, frustrated with her reluctance. “So? There’s no harm in spending the night.”
She exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down her face, as if she were struggling to keep her composure. Before she could protest further, I cut her off.
“You’re spending the night. And that’s an order.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me. You’re spending the night.”
She muttered something in Sicilian— probably cursing me— before sighing. “One night.”
I beamed, extending my hand. “Excellent! I can assure you, you won’t regret it.”
She eyed my hand before taking it and muttering, “We’ll see.”
The walk back to the castle was quiet. Lilia observed the surroundings, taking in the sight of the village, while my focus was entirely on her. There was something about her—something enticing, something I couldn’t quite place. She was like a flickering candle in a dark room, drawing me in with her quiet intensity.
I was so focused on her that I didn’t even notice the approaching guard.
“Princess!” a voice called out.
We both stopped in our tracks.
“The king is very displeased with your actions,” the guard continued, his tone clipped. “I suggest you return to the castle at once.”
I groaned, rubbing my temples. If my father was already upset, how was I supposed to convince him to let Lilia stay?
Lilia tensed beside me. I felt the shift immediately— the way her shoulders squared, her posture stiffening. She was preparing for rejection, for being turned away.
Not happening.
The grand hall was cold despite the flickering chandeliers overhead, the polished marble floors echoing every step I took. The moment I set foot inside, my father’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
"Y/N."
I froze, shoulders squaring instinctively as I turned to face him. King L/N stood at the foot of the grand staircase, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression set in a deep frown of disapproval. The heavy embroidered cloak draped over his shoulders made him look even more imposing, his piercing gaze cutting straight through me.
Behind me, Lilia remained silent, her posture unreadable, but I could feel her gaze flicking between us, assessing the situation.
My father’s expression hardened as he stepped forward. "Where have you been?"
I lifted my chin. “Out.”
His frown deepened. "Sneaking away in the middle of the night? Do you know what kind of example that sets?"
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Oh, forgive me, Father, for daring to leave the castle walls for fresh air.”
His eyes narrowed. “This is not a game, Y/N. You are a princess, not some reckless commoner who can disappear into the streets without consequence. What if something had happened to you? Do you think the kingdom would not notice if its heir went missing?”
I set my jaw. “I was fine.”
“You do not know that,” he countered, voice low with simmering anger. “The world outside these walls is dangerous. And you, Y/N, are far too naïve if you believe otherwise.”
Before I could snap back, his gaze flickered past me to Lilia, assessing her with an unreadable expression. His posture stiffened. “And who is this?”
I lifted my chin, stepping slightly in front of her. “Her name is Lilia Calderu. She’s my guest.”
His brows furrowed. “Guest?”
“Yes.” I crossed my arms. “She has nowhere to go. She’s staying the night.”
His expression darkened instantly. "Absolutely not."
My stomach twisted. “Why not?”
“Because I said so,” he replied, his tone final, as if that alone should be enough.
I took a step closer. “She is staying.”
He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, do not test me. You are to be engaged soon. You should not be bringing strange women into the castle.”
Anger flared in my chest. “She is not a ‘strange woman.’”
“She is a wanderer.” His voice was laced with disdain. “You know nothing about her. Who she is, where she has been, what she might want.” He gestured toward Lilia, his expression tight. “For all you know, she could be a thief, a spy, or worse.”
Lilia let out a low, unimpressed scoff behind me. I had no doubt she was already growing tired of this conversation.
My fingers curled into fists. “She saved my life tonight.”
That caught him off guard. His eyes flickered briefly with something unreadable before his expression turned skeptical. “Did she?”
“Yes,” I said, voice firm. “And I gave her my word that she would have a place to stay for the night.” I took another step closer, squaring my shoulders. “And a princess does not break her word.”
A tense silence fell between us.
My father’s eyes studied me, sharp and calculating. I could see the war waging in his mind— his need for control battling against the unshakable will I had inherited from him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he let out a slow exhale. "Fine. One night."
A triumphant grin spread across my face before I could stop it.
Lilia, standing behind me, muttered something under her breath. I wasn’t sure if it was a curse or a prayer.
The king’s expression remained unreadable as he turned on his heel, already heading up the staircase. “Do not make me regret this, Y/N.”
I watched him disappear down the corridor before letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Then, turning back to Lilia, I smiled. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I glanced toward one of the maids lingering near the entrance. “Prepare a bath for my guest. And bring some fresh clothes.”
The maid gave me a quick bow before hurrying off to do as instructed.
Lilia arched a brow at me. “Saved your life?”
I grinned. “Yep! Saved me from eternal boredom”
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
I pushed open the heavy wooden door to my chambers, leading Lilia inside with an air of triumph. The room was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, the silk curtains fluttering gently from the night breeze that slipped through the open window. The scent of lavender and honey lingered in the air, a comforting contrast to the crisp, spice-tinged scent of the marketplace.
Lilia stepped inside hesitantly, her sharp eyes sweeping over the luxurious surroundings. The grand four-poster bed sat at the center, its plush golden canopy draped elegantly, while a vanity table lined with ornate trinkets and glass bottles stood against the far wall. The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the intricate tapestries hanging along the walls.
"You can take a bath," I announced, stepping toward a hidden door that led to my private bathing chamber. "There should be fresh water waiting. And when you're done, there'll be some clean clothes for you."
Lilia raised an eyebrow, arms crossing but didn't say anything, simply moving towards the bathing chamber, pausing only to glance back at me. “Don’t go stealing my things while I’m in there, principessa.”
I gasped, placing a hand over my heart in mock offense. “I would never! …Unless you have something particularly interesting.”
She let out a short laugh, shaking her head before disappearing inside.
By the time Lilia emerged, she was clad in a loose, white linen shirt and a pair of silk trousers I had laid out for her— simple, but far cleaner than what she had worn before. Her damp curls cascaded over her shoulders, her face softer now that the dirt and weariness of the road had been washed away.
I, already in my nightgown, flopped unceremoniously onto my bed, stretching out like a cat who got the cream. Lilia stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed again, as if debating her next move.
“Where will I be sleeping?” she finally asked.
I blinked at her before grinning mischievously. “Oh, there’s plenty of room in my bed!” I patted the empty space beside me.
Lilia’s expression remained unreadable for a moment, before she let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You have an entire castle with dozens of guest rooms… and yet, you insist I sleep here.”
"Of course," I said, beaming. "You don’t expect me to throw a guest into a lonely, cold room all by herself, do you?"
She exhaled sharply, as if she was suffering some great misfortune, before moving toward the bed. With clear reluctance, she perched at the very edge, sitting stiffly with her hands clasped in her lap.
I, on the other hand, was sprawled on my side, my head propped up by my hand as I stared at her unabashedly. “You look like you’re about to flee,” I commented.
“I’m considering it.”
I giggled, kicking my feet slightly. "You wound me, Lilia. Truly. Here I am, offering you warmth and comfort, and you act as if I’m the villain."
“You could be.”
I gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to my chest. "Me? A villain? And here I thought I was your noble rescuer!"
She shook her head, looking away with a barely contained smirk.
A few beats of silence passed. The room was quiet except for the gentle crackling of the fire and the occasional hoot of an owl outside. I studied her in the dim candlelight, the way her shoulders were tense, as if she was constantly ready to spring into action. There was a guardedness in her posture, in the way she held herself— like a woman who had spent too long expecting the worst from people.
I shifted, sitting up properly. “So,” I said, tilting my head, “what’s your story?”
Lilia’s fingers drummed idly against her knee. “That’s a dangerous question to ask, principessa.”
"Is it?"
She hummed, glancing at me from the corner of her eye. “It is. People lie. People exaggerate. Some stories aren’t meant to be shared at all.”
I leaned in slightly. “And which of those applies to you?”
She hesitated. For a long moment, I thought she might refuse to answer, but then— perhaps as a way to humor me, or as some small form of repayment for my generosity— she sighed and leaned back on her hands.
“I’ve traveled a lot,” she began. “And when you travel, you see many things. You meet many strange people.”
I perked up, urging her on with an excited nod.
She exhaled through her nose, as if debating how much to tell me. Then, a glint of amusement sparked in her eyes. “There was a time,” she said slowly, “when I tried to swindle a nobleman out of his gold.”
My eyes widened. “Did you succeed?”
Lilia smirked. “I almost did. I had the whole act perfected— a lost traveler, helpless and alone, abandoned by fate itself.” She sighed dramatically, mimicking my earlier theatrics. “He fell for it, of course. But, just as I was about to make off with a very fine coin purse, his wife arrived.”
I gasped. “And then?”
Lilia grinned, the sharpness of it rivaling the edge of a dagger. “She turned out to be far more terrifying than he was. I barely made it out of there without a broken nose.”
I burst into laughter, throwing my head back. “Oh, that’s brilliant.”
She chuckled softly, shaking her head.
“Tell me another,” I urged, shifting closer.
Lilia raised an eyebrow. “Are all princesses this demanding?”
“Only the best ones.”
She exhaled, but there was no real protest in it. And so, she told another.
And another.
She spoke of a tavern brawl in a coastal town, of a merchant who tried to sell her a “magic” gemstone that turned out to be nothing but colored glass. With each story, my laughter grew louder, my fascination deeper. And though Lilia acted as if she was merely humoring me, I could tell— there was a flicker of ease in her posture now. A softening of the walls she had built around herself.
I don’t know when I stopped lying on my side and ended up sitting cross-legged in front of her, leaning in, hanging onto every word. I don’t know when Lilia’s smirk turned into something more genuine, or when her voice lost its usual guarded edge.
But by the time we realized how late it had become, the sky outside was no longer dark.
Golden light trickled through the curtains, the first hints of dawn breaking over the horizon. The night had slipped away from us, lost between laughter and whispered stories.
Lilia blinked, glancing toward the window. “...We talked all night.”
I grinned, stretching my arms above my head. “Looks like we did.”
She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. “That wasn’t my plan.”
I laughed. “Neither was bringing home a mysterious traveler from the fountain, yet here we are.”
Lilia sighed, rubbing at her temples. “I blame you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She looked at me for a long moment, then exhaled in defeat. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re still here,” I pointed out smugly.
A flicker of something passed through her gaze. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t deny it either.
“So, will you be staying for breakfast?” I smile, getting ready to insist that she stayed but to my surprised she didn't protest simply just agreed
I had a feeling she was going to be staying for much longer than just breakfast
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The autumn air was crisp, tinged with the scent of earth and fallen leaves. The gardens, usually vibrant with life, now stood bathed in gold and amber, the trees shedding their fiery coats with every passing breeze. The stone path beneath my feet was littered with leaves that crunched softly as Lilia and I walked side by side.
She held my hand— casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Her fingers were warm despite the chill in the air, her grip firm but not forceful. The way her thumb occasionally brushed over my knuckles was enough to send a quiet shiver down my spine.
She was telling a story, her voice rich with amusement, her words animated with subtle gestures.
“So then, the old woman— no taller than my shoulder, mind you— just picks up the frying pan, swings it around like she’s wielding a sword, and bam— drops the first man to the ground. I have never seen a grown man go down so fast in my life. And the other two? The moment she turned toward them, they just— ” Lilia made a dramatic, exaggerated motion of two men throwing their hands up in surrender, eyes wide with terror.
I let out a small, breathy laugh, but it lacked its usual spark.
Lilia didn’t miss it.
She trailed off mid-sentence, her sharp gaze flickering toward me.
“You’re quiet.”
I blinked, startled by her sudden shift in tone.
“You’re never this quiet,” she pressed. There was something softer in her voice now, something searching. She gave my hand a light squeeze, as if to pull me back into the present. “What’s wrong?”
I hesitated. I could brush it off, I could tell her I was just tired, I could turn the conversation back to her story. But this was Lilia. She would see through it instantly.
So instead, I sighed, my breath visible in the cool air.
“My father,” I murmured, “has successfully arranged my marriage.”
Lilia stopped walking.
Just like that, the world seemed to still.
I kept my eyes ahead, focusing on the shifting leaves in the distance. “It’s with the neighboring kingdom,” I continued, my voice steady despite the weight of my words. “A political alliance. It will benefit our people.”
Silence.
I could feel her staring at me, I could feel the tension radiating from her as she processed my words.
When I finally glanced at her, her expression was unreadable— but her grip on my hand had tightened.
“And you’re just… accepting this?” Her voice was quieter now, but there was a sharpness beneath it, like the edge of a blade.
I shrugged. “It’s my duty.”
Lilia scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Since when do you care about duty?”
I smiled wryly. “Since always.”
“That’s a lie,” she shot back. “You do what you want, when you want. You push against every rule, every expectation. You never just accept things.”
She pulled me to a stop, turning to face me fully. The autumn breeze swept through the garden, rustling her dark hair, making the crimson leaves dance around us.
“You could rule alone,” she said suddenly.
I blinked. “What?”
“You don’t need some self-important noble at your side,” she continued. “You could take the throne by yourself.”
I laughed, the sound light but hollow. “You say that as if female rulers aren’t rare.”
“You could be the first.”
“I’m not fit to be one of them.”
“That’s not true.”
I exhaled, shaking my head. “Lilia, I—”
“I mean it,” she interrupted. Her voice was steady, certain. “You’re more capable than anyone I’ve ever met.”
I smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I’m not fit to be a royal at all.”
Lilia’s brows furrowed. “Why would you say that?”
I turned my gaze upward, watching as a golden leaf drifted lazily through the air. “Because I don’t belong here.”
She said nothing, waiting for me to continue.
“I envy you, you know,” I admitted after a moment.
Lilia frowned. “Why?”
I gestured vaguely around us, to the castle in the distance, to the sky stretching endlessly above. “Because you’re free. You can go wherever you want, live however you choose. You don’t have to answer to anyone.”
Lilia was silent.
Then, before I could react, she abruptly stopped walking and turned to me, her hands now gripping both of mine.
“Run away with me.”
I froze.
Her voice was steady, but there was something desperate in her gaze.
I let out a breathy laugh. “Lilia—”
“I’m serious.” She took a step closer, her fingers tightening around mine. “Come with me. Leave this place behind. No arranged marriages, no obligations— just us.”
My heart clenched painfully.
I wanted to. Gods, I wanted to.
To run, to escape, to be selfish just this once.
But I couldn’t.
And she knew that.
So I did what I always did— I smiled. I laughed. I brushed it off like it was nothing.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I teased. “Where would we even go?”
Lilia didn’t laugh.
Her lips parted as if to argue, but then she stopped. Her expression shifted, like she had realized something.
Like she had realized I wasn’t saying no because I didn’t want to.
I was saying no because I couldn’t.
And for the first time since I had met her, Lilia had no clever retort.
She just held my hand a little tighter.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The grand hall was alight with warmth and music, chandeliers casting golden light over the polished marble floors. Laughter and conversation wove through the air, a soft hum beneath the string quartet playing in the corner. It was a private affair— no grand ball, no elaborate feast— just a quiet gathering to introduce Prince Edric to the inner court.
I stood near the farthest window, a goblet of wine in hand, watching as the guests spoke in hushed tones about my impending marriage.
“Your Highness.”
I turned, and there he was— Prince Edric.
His dark hair was neatly combed back, his attire pristine and refined. He had a composed, gentle smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Your Grace,” I greeted, forcing a polite smile.
“I was hoping we might speak.”
I nodded, gesturing toward the balcony. Away from the prying eyes and murmured gossip, the cool night air greeted us as we stepped outside. The autumn wind carried the scent of rain, crisp and clean.
Edric exhaled, resting his hands on the stone railing. “I won’t pretend this arrangement is one of love,” he began, voice steady. “But I hope, in time, we might at least be friends.”
I studied him. He was not cruel. Not unkind. He was not a tyrant, nor a fool. In a different life, perhaps I could have been content with this.
I offered a small smile. “I suppose that’s a good place to start.”
He glanced at me then, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “I will not ask if this is what you want,” he said carefully. “Because I suspect I already know the answer.”
I said nothing.
Edric turned back toward the night sky. “Duty is a heavy thing, isn’t it?”
I let out a quiet breath. “It is.”
And that was that.
We returned to the hall, where the murmurs and music swelled once more.
Lilia was waiting for me in my chambers when I returned.
She sat on the windowsill, one leg dangling, her arms crossed. The moonlight painted her in shades of silver and shadow, but even in the dim glow, I could see the tightness in her jaw.
“You’re late,” she muttered.
I sighed, kicking off my shoes. “I was with Edric.”
Something flickered in her expression. “And?”
I collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “And… he’s not as bad as I thought.”
Silence.
Then, quietly—
“You like him.”
I turned my head toward her. “Does it matter?”
Lilia’s hands clenched at her sleeves. “It does to me.”
I sat up. “Why?”
She let out a sharp breath, standing abruptly. “Because—” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “Never mind.”
“No.” I pushed myself to my feet. “Say it.”
Lilia glared at me. “What do you want me to say, principessa? That I can’t stand to watch you fall into this gilded cage? That I hate the way you talk about him as if it’s already decided?” She let out a bitter laugh. “Because it is, isn’t it?”
I swallowed hard. “Lilia—”
She took a step forward, close enough that I could see the frustration burning behind her eyes.
“Tell me you don’t want more,” she whispered.
I didn’t answer.
Because I couldn’t.
Her breath hitched, and then, with a shake of her head, she turned away.
“I can’t do this.”
Something in my chest twisted. “What do you mean?”
She exhaled shakily. “I mean I can’t stay. I can’t sit here and watch you marry someone else.”
Panic flared in my heart. “You’re leaving?”
Lilia didn’t answer.
I grabbed her wrist. “Lilia.”
She turned back to me, and for the first time, I saw it— real heartbreak, plain on her face.
“I love you,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “And I can’t stay and watch you be someone else’s.”
My breath caught.
But before I could say anything—
She pulled away.
And she was gone.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The castle was shrouded in silence. The kind of silence that felt heavy, suffocating, like the calm before a storm. The torches along the walls flickered weakly, their light barely pushing back against the thick darkness creeping through the halls.
I should have been asleep. Tomorrow was my wedding day. The day I fulfilled my duty. The day I sealed my kingdom’s future. The day I gave myself away to a man I barely knew.
But instead, I was here— standing at my window, watching the courtyard below, lost in thought.
And then, I saw her.
A shadow, moving swiftly along the stone path leading to the gates. Cloaked, hooded, carrying only a small satchel.
My stomach dropped.
I knew that silhouette. I would recognize her anywhere.
“Lilia…”
I barely realized I had whispered her name before I was moving. My feet carried me through the halls before I could think. Before I could hesitate. Before I could talk myself out of it.
I didn’t bother with shoes. Didn’t bother with a cloak to keep out the autumn chill.
I ran.
Through the halls. Down the stairs. Across the courtyard.
She was already at the gates when I called out.
“LILIA!”
She froze.
For a moment, she didn’t turn.
Then, with a sigh, she did.
Under the pale moonlight, her face was unreadable. A perfect mask of indifference. But I knew her too well. I could see it in the tightness of her jaw. In the way her fingers clenched at the strap of her satchel.
She wasn’t indifferent.
She was in pain.
“You’re leaving.”
Lilia froze mid-movement, fingers tightening around the strap of her satchel. Then she sighed, slow and measured, before turning slightly— just enough for me to see the tension in her face.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I stepped forward. “So, that’s it?” My voice was softer than I intended, laced with something close to hurt. “You weren’t even going to say goodbye?”
She let out a quiet, bitter laugh, shaking her head as she turned away.
“Would you have even noticed?” she muttered. “You have a wedding to prepare for, after all.”
I flinched.
“That’s not fair.”
Her shoulders stiffened, something snapping in her as she turned fully to face me.
“What’s not fair,” she snapped, “is standing here, pretending this means nothing to you. Pretending I mean nothing to you.”
The air went still.
I swallowed hard, but I didn’t deny it.
Because I couldn’t.
Because we both knew the truth.
“Lilia,” I said softly, hesitant. “You know it’s not that simple.”
She laughed, but there was no joy in it. Only sharp edges and unspoken pain.
“No.” She shook her head. “It is that simple.”
Her eyes locked onto mine, something fierce and desperate burning in them.
“You don’t want this marriage, do you?”
I opened my mouth. Then hesitated.
And that was all she needed.
Lilia took a step closer, lowering her voice, but the urgency in it only grew.
“Then run.”
My breath hitched.
“Let’s go— tonight, right now. Just say the word, and we leave.”
Her hands found mine, fingers curling around them like a lifeline, as if willing me to take the leap she had already decided on.
For a moment, I almost did.
For a moment, I imagined it— us, slipping away into the night, leaving behind duty and titles and the weight of expectation.
For a moment, it felt real.
But it wasn’t.
It never could be.
I shook my head, barely able to get the words out.
“I can’t.”
Lilia stilled.
For a long, excruciating second, she just looked at me.
Her expression shifted.
The fire in her eyes dimmed, replaced by something more fragile.
Something that shattered me.
“Do you love him?” she whispered.
I stayed silent for too long.
Then, barely above a breath, I forced out the truth neither of us wanted to hear.
“…It doesn’t matter.”
Lilia closed her eyes.
And I knew.
I knew I had lost her.
She exhaled sharply, jaw tight, and when she looked at me again, the softness in her expression was gone.
She stepped back.
Out of reach.
“Right.” A quiet, bitter chuckle. “Of course, it doesn’t.”
Something inside me screamed to stop her. To take it back. To say something— anything— that would make her stay.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
She shook her head, stepping further away, the distance between us stretching wider and wider.
“No.” Her voice was softer now, but no less final. “You made your choice.”
And just like that—
She turned.
And walked away.
And I let her.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The morning of my wedding arrived with a hush, as if the entire kingdom held its breath. The air was thick with the scent of roses, honeyed incense, and polished steel. Every hallway of the castle had been draped in silks of gold and ivory, servants scurrying to ensure that every candle was perfectly lit, every flower in place. The weight of it all settled on my shoulders long before I even opened my eyes.
I was getting married today.
To Edric.
To a man who was kind enough. A man who smiled when we met, who was polite, respectful. A man who would be a good king, a strong ruler, a responsible husband.
A man who was not her.
I sat before the mirror as the maids fastened the last ties of my gown, their hands careful, their voices hushed. My wedding dress was heavier than I expected, layers of embroidered silk wrapping around my body, golden threads woven into intricate patterns across the bodice—symbols of unity, prosperity, duty.
Duty.
The word rang in my mind like a funeral bell.
I barely noticed as they pinned my veil into place, as they twisted my hair into an elaborate style fit for a queen. I did not flinch when they placed the weight of the crown atop my head.
I looked the part. A bride. A future queen. A symbol of peace.
And yet, all I could think about was Lilia.
Had she made it far? Had she left the kingdom’s borders yet? Was she safe? Was she thinking of me?
Was she regretting it as much as I was?
A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
“It’s time, Your Highness.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, pressed my trembling hands together, and rose to my feet.
It was time.
The cathedral was grander than I had ever seen it, bathed in golden light, the high-arched stained-glass windows casting fractured colors onto the marble floors. Every inch of the hall was filled— nobles draped in their finest silks, foreign dignitaries, knights standing like statues along the pillars. My father sat upon his throne, watching from above.
A kingdom waited.
The heavy wooden doors creaked open.
I stepped forward.
Each step sent a dull echo through the silent hall, my gown trailing behind me like a ghost. The scent of incense and candle wax curled in my lungs, but I barely breathed.
I was numb.
At the altar, Edric stood waiting.
His posture was perfect, his expression composed. He was not unkind, not cruel— there was no malice in his eyes, only duty. We were both victims of it, in our own ways.
I forced myself to meet his gaze as I reached him.
Neither of us smiled.
The priest began the ceremony, his voice a distant hum, speaking of love and duty and sacrifice. Words that meant nothing to me. Words that bound me all the same.
I wanted to turn, to run, to flee down the aisle and out into the cold air, where I could still chase after her. I wanted to find Lilia, wherever she had gone, to take her by the hand and tell her I was sorry.
But that was a fantasy.
This was my reality.
“…Do you, Princess Y/N, take Prince Edric to be your husband and king?”
The silence stretched.
I could feel my father’s gaze, the expectant stares of the court, the breathless anticipation of my people.
I was their princess. Their future queen.
This was the moment.
This was my fate.
My lips parted.
“…I do.”
A cheer erupted through the hall, a roar of celebration, of relief.
The golden ring was slipped onto my finger, cold as iron. The weight of it settled, final and unshakable.
There was no going back.
And somewhere, far beyond the castle walls, Lilia was nothing more than a memory.
A/N: okay so this was actually one of the first fics I wanted to write ever for Lilia x Reader but just never got around to it until a sleepless night yesterday. Even had two requests about Lilia getting a vision of reader attempting and another for sh so this is kinda both. It doesn't go into great detail, but it is explicitly mentioned once or twice, so beware.
TRIGGER WARNING: If you're not in the headspace to consume this kind of content or feel unsafe, please leave this fic and reach out to someone. Reader discretion advised.
At first glance, night on the Witch's Road seemed no different from an earthly one, but now that you sat with the group around a small, crackling fire, the eerie silence crept into everyone's bones. There was no wind, no insects crawling in the dirt, nothing live dwelling in this place. It was a rotting piece of void that digested every breathing thing within it bite by bite. Nobody said it, but you all felt it; the Road would chew you up if no one stayed up to hold wake.
The group had diverted their fear in idle banter, laughing the night away and sharing stories about the scars marking their bodies. Lilia, seated next to you on the rock you were sharing, pulled her clothes aside to reveal the marks of a vampire bite. "Right before I knocked out his other tooth," she added in that cheeky manner of hers and made you smile.
You could imagine her kicking vampire asses. She may be old, but she was a force to be reckoned with; that much you'd learnt during the short time you'd spent together on the Road. She was the one you stuck with, whose eyes you sought out when danger arose, well, and who you shared a rock with.
There, again!
Lilia did this thing. Checked out mid-sentence or babbled gibberish all of a sudden. Dementia, you'd heard Jen whisper, but she didn't strike you as senile at all. It was more like something ripped the soul out of her body, a displacement. And then she came back, disoriented and rattled.
"Lilia, where do you go?" Jen asked, and Lilia tensed. You gave her hand a subtle squeeze.
Luckily, Agatha's return drew the attention away from Lilia's slip-up and allowed her a moment to collect herself. You didn't notice at first how you hadn't let go of her hand yet and did so with an awkward, apologetic smile. Upon Jen's prompt, Agatha recounted the time a knitting needle had pierced her elbow.
"I've got a scar," Rio took over then, but Agatha was even quicker to say, "No, you don't."
You'd gathered during the last trial that the two somehow knew each other, but the interaction was still odd. Rio told her story anyway, which seemed to upset Agatha, and she left. When Rio followed her, Lilia gripped her wrist and gave her a warning. "Don't think for a second I've forgotten what you said in the sound booth."
Rio hissed at Lilia. You didn't like that she did. It wasn't the first time this happened, and sometimes you wanted to hiss back, but something told you not to mess with her. Before silence could overtake the round, Jen presented a scar around her ankle from a shackle to you and went on to lecture about what potions she used to minimise it and with what tincture she hoped to make it disappear entirely.
"It might work as a wrinkle cream too," she said to Lilia. "I'll let you know when I've perfected the recipe."
"How thoughtful," Lilia muttered under her breath and tossed a twig into the fire. You could've sworn you heard her add the word 'bitch'.
"What about you?" Alice asked, and it took a second before you realised she was talking to you.
"Yeah, show us your trophies," Jen agreed, gesturing in your direction.
You pulled your sleeves almost to your fingertips and turned away, shuddering under all their eyes on you. Jen crossed her arms and made a noise of disapproval. "Hey, this is a group activity. We have to rely on each other to survive out here. Do your part."
Lilia snapped around. "Watch your tongue."
"She's not wrong, though," Alice said, offering a warm smile instead. She'd only just shared one of her most vulnerable experiences with you; it would be unfair to withhold, but it was too risky. You shook your head and curled your fingers around your sleeves.
Notes: Inspired by the studio Ghibli movie “The secret world of Arrietty.” I’m also very touched starved, and my main love language is touch. So you get this. 💋 word translations & outfit references will be at the bottom
——————————————————————————
It was a chilly spring morning, fog in the air and dew left on the grass. Coming from the chimneys was thick black smoke, blowing with the wind. The remnants of the wood burning to warm all the homes of families tucked away in their beds. Much to early for regular working class adults, and children waiting to go to school to be up for the day. Yet you stir, a chill running up your spine.
Pulling the blanket tightly over your shoulders, you shiver and reach for Lilia. Her side of the bed lie cold, the covers back in place. Like she hadn’t been there when you went to sleep a couple hours prior. With a sigh, you rub yours eyes. Sitting up, and immediately rubbing your arms to try and warm yourself up. The bedroom window was open, figures. Lilia loves these chilly mornings, she says her tea is the best when she’s a little cold.
After a good yawn and stretch. You throw the covers off yourself, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. Toeing your bunny slippers on, and snatching your robe quickly off the bed post. Sliding it on with ease, and tying the robe around your waist. It was a old robe of Lilia’s, having mismatched squares of fabrics from when it would get a tear. Lilia hated that you loved it so much, she found it to be embarrassing. She hated how poor her financial situation had been when you both first met. Not that it was much better now, but you weren’t thousands of dollars in debt anymore So neither of you were going to complain.
The sound of the kettle whistling that shrilling sound. Singled that Lilia was in the kitchen, most likely sewing at the kitchen table, while nursing her 3rd or 4th cup of tea. She’d always been an early morning person, being up before dawn like clock work. It drove you mad at times, because you’d much rather wake up cuddled into her so tightly it almost hurts.
Sliding the room divider that you bought at the flea market open, you smile when you’re met with a smile from Lilia. She was in her deep green silk robe, with silver lacing on the trims. A Valentine’s Day gift from you to her a couple years back. Her salt a pepper curls hanging loosely against her shoulders, and her face bare of her usual makeup. She looked beautiful, and most importantly warm. It was steamy in the kitchen, and the warm glow of the sunlight streaming through the white lace curtains made her glow like an Angel.
“Good Morning, Amuri Miu.”
Lilia’s voice helps to wake you, while you greet her with a tender kiss to the lips. She lets out a raspy moan, muffled against your lips. Her hand full of rings, curved around your back. When you break the kiss, it’s immediately followed by nuzzling your face into her neck. Feeling her soft, thin skin against your cheek.
“Comu durmìsti? Vuliti lu tè?”
Your response to her questions is a simple grunt, it’s sounded like a whine. You were feeling unusually uneasy, and your skin hurt. Holding onto her, smelling her perfume and the tangy scent of her sweat. It was a comfort that you had grown all to used to. So much so, that a couple days apart might as well been considered torture.
“I slept good, but I am still tired.”
You finally answer after you’ve spent more then a couple minutes just letting Lilia hold you her hand gently rubbing your back, while her other one was moving your hair away from your neck. The coolness of her multitude of her rings felt searing against your skin. However, in a very good way, it made you feel awake, alive, comforted. In moments where your mind felt disconnected from your body, Lilia was grounding. She made you feel real, like you weren’t just floating around in life.
Although there was an ache in your bones, that reached deep into your soul. You didn’t feel complete in the moment, your entire being craving another leave of closeness with the woman you considered to be your whole world. Wanting to merge your bodies completely, you’re veins tangling together. Hearts pulsing together, as your very earthly bodies live & die together.
The breathing of her warm breathes against you neck made the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up like you’d been struck with lightning. Her soft lips pressing soothing kisses lightly against the sensitive skin of your neck. Giving you silent reassurance that she’s here, she’s got you. But that wasn’t enough, in this moment. You needed to be enveloped in the warmth of her body entirely.
“My darling girl, what’s the matter?”
Lilia’s voice is gentle, with a twinge of worry seeping through. Her fingers continuing to play with the strands of your hair. You can feel her gaze so fervent that you can feel it physically. She was worried, she always worried.
“You’re not close enough.”
Your voice sounds embarrassingly small, you feel exposed, like a small child. You couldn’t help it though, you were terrified of loosing her. Loosing the sun to your moon. The earth to your ocean. The stars to your comets. Her visions only worried you, you were well aware her timeline wasn’t the same as yours. That made your mind suffer, suffocating you with the need to know she’s safe.
This prompts a deep and throaty chuckle from Lilia. She was clearly amused by how much you adored her. It made her happy, and made you feel loved. It’s a good feeling to know that she’s finally convinced that you actually adore her. It what felts like eternity for that to happen. She was so guarded, and solemn about romantic affection. Especially compliments, she was so damn stubborn when it came to compliments.
“It’s alright dear. You can have your time.”
She whispers into your ear. Placing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her chocolate brown eyes, large and understanding. Her smile lines deepening, while her mouths turns upwards in a genuine smile.
….
Taking that opportunity, you carefully used your magic while she took hold of your hips softly. The warmth of the coral energy flowing through your veins, muscles, and blood streams. Gradually turning your 5’3 self into a size smaller then a mouse. Cupped gently in Lilia’s palms. While you blink and rub your eyes. Getting used to your new size, and how everything looked and sounded differently.
Once you adjusted, you’re met with Lilia’s kind smile. Her thumb gently caressing the top of your hair, petting you like you’re made of the most delicate glass. She had a tendency to get very sippy whenever you got tiny. As if she was looking at the cutest creature she had ever laid her eyes on. Which was exactly the case to her.
“You ready sweetheart?”
You nod, reaching your arms out when she brings you to her chest. Transferring you to only one hand, so she can use the other to pull her robe and bra from her skin. Guiding you to the crevice between her soft breasts. Her bra just big enough where it dipped down in the middle. Creating sort of a hammock, where you could tuck yourself away comfortably. Nuzzled in between her breasts. The warmth of them consuming you entirely. While she pulls her shirt back over you, and the darkness falls over you.
It was the most peaceful you’ve ever felt in your life when you were here. Nuzzled close to her heart, listening to her breathing and heartbeat. While her perfect boobies where not only keeping you warm, but also were the perfect walls, enveloping you in pure comfort. No one would ever know that you were in her bra. Unless they saw you of course. It was the perfect way that she could keep you close, keep you safe. While also combatting your thanatophobia, by letting you physically feel her heartbeat with your entire body.
Another perk was that you to quite literally go anywhere with her. When she goes to the market for fresh produce, you’re asleep in her bra. When she’s at the bank having meetings about payments plans for her debt, you’re nestled in that little hammock area. Talking notes, or kneading at her flesh gently when she gets tense. She has to work overtime? Fine, you squished yourself far into her breasts.
If it was a day where she didn’t feel like wearing a bra fine. She’s tuck you into the pocket of her pants or coat. Sneaking up crumbs of her lunch or dinner if she went out. Did you have to do it that. No, absolutely not. However, what’s the fun in being normal? Exactly. Not only did it add a layer of complexity, but it was also fun. It’s a nice way for the both of you to be together all the time. Not that you didn’t have your alone times. You did, but you preferred to be in each others presence. Being that grounding force for the both of you.
It was also good for when she had visions. Her heart rate would increase a few moments before. If you were tucked against her chest, you could warn her of a vision and get her to sit down. It was rare, but there were times where a particularly bad vision would make her loose her balance. You wanted her safe, to keep her safe the best you could. Just like she does for you.
“Would you like some tea?”
She asks you once more, humming while she goes back to making breakfast. The pop of the kettle opening, and the steam flowing into the air around you. The hot air warming her face and chest. Which only made you more content.
“Sounds nice.”
Your voice also sounds like a purr, so deeply content and a little sleepy.
“Coming right up.”
You hum out in content, while Lilia moves around. Keeping your eyes closed, used to the rocking about of her movement. The air smelt like cinnamon and basil. Lilia liked to grow her own herbs, partly to save me, but also because she was deeply connected with Mother Nature. Taking comfort, and dependence with the realms of nature. She also used cinnamon sticks for different recipes, and other bits and bobs she does. You didn’t complain, because it smelt to good. She also always added it to your tea or your hot chocolate without having to be asked.
Before you know it, you’re leaning outside the hammock of her bra. Hands holding a thimble full of herbal tea, while watching a cheesy soap opera with Lilia It was all painfully domestic, and in all honesty. Neither of you wouldn’t want it to be any other way.
…
It was around a week later, a nice Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining, almost blindingly through the open windows of the tiny one room apartment. Lilia’s pretty, lacy white bra was strung up on a nail in one of the cabinets. Where you were nestled peacefully, reading a book. Meanwhile, Lilia is standing at the kitchen counter. Using a mortar and pestle to crush and grind different herbs into healing compounds. While simultaneously reading the recipe from an old guide to natural remedies book she recently bought. She was very focused, some of her grey curled have escaped from her hair clip. Hanging loosely to frame her face, while her brows are scrunched together, lips pursed.
She looked very focused, which only made you smile even more. One of your favorite sights was seeing her in her element, so enamored with the work she is doing, using what Mother Nature had proved for her. Turning it into something useful, and potentially live saving. That’s just the kind of person she is. Also her specialty is divination, she was prompted early on to also be a healer. Although she wouldn’t claim the title herself, and firmly deny it. There was no doubt, she knew what to do when illness or minor injury would occur.
It only made you love her more.
——————————————————————————
Robe References: Lilia’s ~ Reader’s
Sicilian Word Translations (not perfect, I had to google) :
Amuri Miu - My love
Duci - Sweetie
Comu durmìsti? Vuliti lu tè? - How'd you sleep? Do you want tea? [rough translation]
While your English professor is helping you with your essay, your pen falls under her desk. The department head chooses that moment for an impromptu meeting and you're stuck under the desk until the meeting is over. Luckily, there's a way to pass the time.
