Chapter168 – I’ll wait for you
Atticus reached out, gently pulling her into his arms. “You’re mine.”
Clarissa rolled her eyes. “You’re talking nonsense again.” But her voice softened, and she mumbled, “There’s still half a year left…”
Atticus smiled. “Okay, not now. We’ll talk again in six months.”
The way he said it made her heart skip a beat. Clarissa glared and pushed at his chest, but he was too strong. He only tightened his embrace and whispered against her hair, “Clarissa, I’m so happy…”
She froze.
“I don’t want anyone else,” he said. “I only want you. And I want you to only want me. Let’s build something real—a life, a home. No more running. Just us, forever. Trust me.”
Her heart clenched. “Atticus…”
His words made her eyes sting. She blinked back tears, sniffled, and muttered, “Idiot…”
“But do you believe me?” he asked, gazing down at her.
Clarissa looked up, meeting his eyes—and in them, she saw fire. A steady, burning desire, and something deeper.
Her breath caught. She could see herself reflected in his pupils.
It was overwhelming.
She tried to look away, but he cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to hold his gaze.
“Clarissa, look at me. Just answer me.”
Her heart was pounding, thudding so loud it drowned everything else out. Her chest tightened.
“I…” Clarissa’s voice trembled. “Atticus, can you give me some time?”
He stared at her for a long second, then let out a soft sigh and pulled her into a firm hug.
“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered. “No matter how long it takes.”
......
Three days later, Atticus had had enough of staying inside.
He sat at the table, staring at his untouched food.
Clarissa noticed immediately. “You’re not eating… is something wrong? Is the pain acting up again?”
She worried it might be his wound again, but Atticus just looked at her and said plainly, “I’ve been cooped up too long. I’m bored. Sis, I want to go outside.”
Clarissa considered it. His condition had stabilized, and a bit of fresh air might do him good. She nodded. “Alright. I’ll take you out after we eat. Now eat up.”
Obediently, Atticus lowered his head and began to eat.
Later, Clarissa pushed him out into the courtyard in a wheelchair. The sun was warm and golden, bathing everything in a soft glow. A group of people were practicing fencing, rapiers flashing in the sunlight. Gabriel stood among them, striking in his crisp white uniform. The sun caught in his golden hair and fair skin, making him almost ethereal.
He spotted them and smiled brightly. “Mr. Atticus, I heard from the doctor that your recovery’s going well.”
Atticus returned the smile with polite calm. “Not bad. Thanks for checking in.”
Gabriel’s smile deepened, and his amethyst eyes gleamed like polished gems.
Dressed in white with the grace of nobility, he looked like someone from a painting.
Clarissa found herself watching him longer than she expected.
Atticus noticed her gaze and let out a low chuckle. “What are you looking at me like that for?”
“Nothing!” she said quickly, turning away in embarrassment.
Atticus' voice lowered, his tone quiet but meaningful. “Clarissa… don’t take people at face value. Sometimes, what you see is only a mask.”
He looked up at the distant silhouette of the castle, the corners of his lips lifting in a cold smirk. “Don’t waste your sympathy on Gabriel. He doesn’t need it.”
Clarissa sensed there was more behind his words but didn’t press. This was something Atticus would handle in his own way.
“I trust you,” she said softly. “As long as it’s not illegal or harmful to innocent people… do what you have to do. I’ll support you.”
That made him smile again—but this time, it was different. There was a lightness in his expression she hadn’t seen in days.
“Clarissa.”
Footsteps approached from behind. Clarissa turned and saw Lawrence walking toward her.
He had visited Atticus the day before, but Atticus had barely been civil, leaving Clarissa feeling awkward and a bit embarrassed.
Now, Lawrence was dressed in a crisp fencing uniform. His usual frameless glasses had been replaced with neat black-rimmed ones, lending him a sharper, more polished appearance.
“You fence?” she asked, raising a brow.
“I studied a bit.” Lawrence answered modestly, as always.
Clarissa wasn’t entirely convinced.
When Atticus saw him, the smile instantly dropped from his face. He heard Lawrence’s words and muttered with a roll of his eyes, “What a show-off.”
The air instantly stiffened with tension. Clarissa shot Lawrence an apologetic glance. “He’s just… like that. Please don’t mind him.”
But Lawrence only smiled calmly. “It’s fine. He’s young. I understand.”
His response smoothed over the awkward moment, and Clarissa breathed a sigh of relief.
Sensing that he wasn’t welcome, Lawrence took the initiative to excuse himself so Clarissa wouldn’t be caught in the middle.
Once he was gone, Clarissa turned to Atticus, frowning. “You were so rude just now.”
Atticus snorted. “Depends on who I’m talking to. I’m not going to be polite to a man who clearly has improper thoughts about you.”
Clarissa laughed. “Lawrence doesn’t see me that way, and you know it.”
“You’re too naive,” Atticus said sharply. “Men like him… they’re never as innocent as they seem.”
Clarissa blinked. “Why do you dislike him so much? He hasn’t done anything wrong. What about William? Are you saying he’s fake too?”
Atticus’s smile turned bitter, his gaze darkening. “Are you still hung up on him?”
“Just answer the question,” Clarissa challenged, arms crossed.
He stared at her a beat too long—then, seeing the teasing spark in her eyes, the corners of his mouth lifted.
“William? He’s an idiot. The kind of idiot who walks into a trap and calls it fate.”
“Atticus!” Clarissa scolded with a laugh. “Don’t insult people like that.”
“That wasn’t an insult. It’s a fact,” he replied flatly.
Clarissa sighed. “What gives you the right to say that about him?”
Atticus placed a hand over his heart, as if declaring something sacred. “A man’s intuition.”
That made Clarissa burst out laughing. “Seriously? That’s your argument—‘man’s intuition’?”
He grinned. “Exactly.”
Shaking her head in disbelief, she said, “Okay, oh wise and intuitive one. Where are we off to next?”
Atticus glanced across the courtyard—and spotted Dorian, glaring at him from a distance like he wanted to lunge across the lawn and murder him.
A wicked grin curled on Atticus’s lips.
“Let’s head back,” he said. “I’ll take you into the castle.”
“Sure,” Clarissa agreed, pushing his wheelchair.
Inside, the castle revealed its secrets. She didn’t mention the portraits at first. It wasn’t until she pressed one of the pearls on a necklace in a portrait, following Atticus’s suggestion, that something shifted.
With a mechanical click, a hidden door swung open in the wall.
Clarissa turned to him, eyes wide. “How did you even know there was something here?”
Atticus smirked. “I guessed.”
She gave him a skeptical look.
“I’m serious,” he added, still smiling. “Old noble families—especially paranoid ones—always have secret passages. Usually it’s a hidden exit, or a supply room, or sometimes even both. They’re terrified of being trapped.”
Clarissa listened intently, fascinated. “That makes sense. Are there more places like this?”
Atticus looked at her sparkling eyes and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Even if there are, we can’t just go poking around. We’d get caught.”
“Caught?” Clarissa blinked. “By who?”
He pointed toward an intricately carved animal head mounted on the wall. “See that? The eye functions like a surveillance lens. The owner can see nearly every corner of this castle. Except here. This passage is in the blind spot.”
Clarissa turned to study the eye, suddenly more cautious.
No wonder she’d felt something off about this place. The bloody-red eyes in the portraits had always felt eerie.
Clarissa and Atticus wandered through the castle, and with his sharp eyes and intuition, every place he pointed to revealed something—hidden doors, ancient mechanisms, or odd little rooms that made Clarissa feel like she’d stepped into a gothic puzzle box.