Poison Rose of Avalon

"Ora, listen to me carefully. You need to leave the terrace. Right now."

Liora could feel the desperation in Caspian's voice, every word hammering in her ears, urging her to move. She wanted to obey, to let his voice anchor her—but her mind was a storm of chaos, her body paralyzed by the weight of what had just happened. Tremors coursed through her frame, her hands trembling as if trying to shake off an invisible web around her.

Her lips quivered. The words felt heavy and fractured. "Silvia—she—" she managed to stammer.

"I'm standing right at the gate of Elite School, Ora. Do you plan on keeping me waiting?" Caspian's voice once more flowed through the phone, smooth and compelling, a blend of softness wrapped in an unmistakable command.

The words hit Liora like a splash of water. 'Caspian....here? O...outside the school?' Her mind stumbled over his words as though they didn't quite fit the moment's chaos.

"A..are...you....really...."

"Come to me, Ora!" Caspian seductively whispered. His words seemed to wrap around her thoughts.

The guilt, the panic and the crushing reality of Silvia's fall—all of it faded into the background, eclipsed by a singular need to see Caspian. She could barely hear her own thoughts over the pounding of her heart.

"I'm coming," she whispered, then louder, "I'm coming, Caspian!"

Knowing Caspian was just a few meters away sent a rush of adrenaline through Liora, making her forget everything else. It felt surreal; nothing mattered but the thought of seeing him in person.

She longed to experience the real Caspian, not just the images he had shared through social media or the carefully curated photos he had shared through messages, but the real him in person.

The phone pressed against her ear trembled in her hand as she bolted for the terrace door. Her legs moved instinctually, propelling her down the stairs and into the building. Each breath came ragged, her steps echoing in the empty hallways. The noise of students grew louder as she neared the courtyard.

"Stop!" Caspian's voice halted her mid-step, her body jolting as if caught in an invisible grip.

"Why....why are you asking me to stop?" she stammered, confusion lacing her voice.

"Are you really going to meet me looking like that?" His question was casual, almost amused, as if he could see her, making her even more confused.

She stood there, her lips slightly parted, her throat parched, drawing in breaths as she tried to process Caspian's words. How could he even say she looked like a mess? And why did it even matter?

"I'm not stopping..." Liora decided to ignore his words; her feet moved one step forward.

"My little runner," he interrupted, his tone dipping into something darker. "You're mine, and what's mine needs to stay perfect. I expect my Ora to look flawless..... Fix yourself first."

Her brows furrowed, frustration bubbling up through the mess of emotions. She shoved her phone into her skirt pocket while Caspian was on the other end of the call, hastily wiping at her tear-streaked face with trembling hands. Catching her reflection in a nearby window, she ran her fingers through her unruly hair, smoothing it down. Her heart clenched at the absurdity of Caspian's words, yet the thought of seeing him drove her on.

She picked up the phone again. "I'm ready," she said, breathless. "I'm...."

"Don't move."

The command froze her again in a place, "What now? I don't have any extra fancy clothes to change into if that's what you want."

Caspian chuckled softly, a playful glint in his voice. "Oh!" He caped his head, wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. "But where did you get the idea that I want to see you in clothing?"

Liora clasped her phone tightly against her ear. She glanced around the space, her eyes darting from one corner to the other, brows furrowing in confusion. "You... don't want to... see me in..." she began, and soon, her voice trailed off when Caspian's words sank in.

Her eyes widened, heat rushed to her face and ears and a deep blush spread across her cheeks, turning them a bright tomato red. The silence charged with playful anticipation as if the air was alive with unspoken possibilities.

I'm not 18 yet!" Her sudden outburst turned every head in the room toward her. Realizing the attention she'd drawn, she lowered her voice, her gaze darting nervously.

Caspian's laugh was low, almost predatory. "Hmm? So what you're really saying is… the moment you do turn 18, I'll finally get to—"

"Stop right there!" She clamped down on her lower lip more firmly while shutting her eyes as a surge of shyness enveloped her like a warm blanket. How could Caspian speak so bluntly about something so intimate? Butterflies danced in her stomach, and she murmured, "Don't tease me, Caspian."

"I will wait until you turn 18," Caspian said in a low voice filled with patience and intensity. He pursed his lips, and though Liora couldn't see him over the call, she could almost feel his gaze narrowing with determination.

Students started moving in the opposite direction, where Siliva had fallen. The hushed murmurs grew louder, pulling Liora back to the grim reality she had momentarily forgotten. Her chest tightened as the colour drained from her face, all traces of their playful banter erased.

Caspian could hear it too—the fragmented voices, Silvia's name falling from too many lips. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a rare flicker of frustration crossing over his face. His way of keeping Liora out of Silvia's focus went to drainage.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke. " You did nothing wrong. I have faith in you."

Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill, but she bit them back, forcing herself to stay composed. Her voice was small, trembling with restrained emotion. "I'll be there soon," she whispered.

Caspian exhaled sharply, almost as if to purge the guilt creeping in. "I… lied," he admitted.

He had played his game flawlessly until now, expertly weaving a web of deception that allowed him to keep his distance that allowed him to keep his distance while still remaining close. But beneath the surface, fear lanced through him: the fear of how Liora would react.

It wasn't that he feared her discovering that he had been the puppet master in the shadows, orchestrating Silvia's actions to entwine their lives.

No, that was a secret Liora would never learn. But the pretence of being near the gate, waiting for her, gnawed at him.

Liora stayed still, holding her breath, confusion flashing across her face. "What?"

"I'm not at the gate," Caspian confessed, his words carefully measured. "I needed to get you off that terrace, Ora. I'd do it again if I had to."

Liora's tears fell silently, hot streaks of pain that burned against her cold skin. She swallowed hard, choking back the sob that threatened to escape. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the deepness of her anguish pressed into that syllable. It wasn't agreement—it was surrender.

Caspian's didn't regret it—not really. But there was a pang, a quiet ache at seeing Liora not lash out at him. "Hate me if you must," he added, his voice softer, "but right now, I need you safe."

Her hands trembled as she forced a smile, a pitiful, brittle thing that only deepened the cracks in her composure. Caspian was her everything. If he told her the sun had vanished, replaced by the moon's sudden brilliance, she would believe it. She'd look up and convince herself the world had shifted because Caspian always knew best. He always had her best interests at heart, didn't he?

A shaky laugh left her lips unsteady and hollow. "I understand," she said, her words thin and forced, as if speaking them out loud might make them true.

But the truth was a jagged knife twisting inside her chest. And even as she tried to stand tall, a quiet, relentless voice in the back of her mind whispered: 'You're breaking, and he doesn't even notice.'

"Caspian, I must go and tell the dean what had happened." Liora's demeanour changed.

"No one will believe you, Ora. They will think you did it out of anger to take revenge." Caspian paused before continuing again, "Do you want to spend your life in Prison?" Caspina's question was to wake Liora up to the reality.

"You trust me, don't you, baby doll?" Caspian murmured, his voice dropping into a soothing cadence meant to reassure Liora. Despite the distance between them, he aimed to wrap her in a comforting embrace.

"B..but I.."

"Shhh," Hear me out and answer only yes and no. Liora heard Caspina speaking.

"Is she the one who was bullying a year ago?" Caspian asked, his tone smooth but with a hidden smirk.

"Yes," her free hand clenched and unclenched by her side.

"Did she bully you again?" Caspian inquired, inwardly pleased with how things were unfolding.

"Yes"

"Did she call you on the terrace today?"

"Yes."

"To force you to meet the same fate as hers?"

"Yes." Liora felt heartbroken; though she tried to stay out of trouble, somehow, it followed her like a magnet. Why Siliva wanted her dead, she might never find the answer anymore.

"If she hadn't died, it could have been you. Don't you think it's better it was her and not you? Or would you have preferred it was you?" Caspian continued, his words wrapping around her like a vice.

"No. but..."

"My point! Did you push her?"

"No, I did not."

"Then everything is her fault, not yours," he said, his voice firm.

"If you go and tell everything, why would you want people to make it worse for you? Ora, Silvia's family is wealthy; they'll buy the court and sway the police. What about your mom? What will happen to her?"

A heavy silence dragged on between them, stretching into an uncomfortable eternity over the call.

"The guilt is not yours to carry," he continued, his tone softening slightly. "Remember, it's she who brought this upon herself. And Ora, I am proud of you for standing up to her today. You made me happy. You did not disappoint me."

Liora had no idea what she should do, but she trusted Caspian. After her mother and Dane, he was the only one she trusted unquestioningly. He was her hero, after all! And her hero is proud of her!

Liora began to think, her face contorting with the effort to hold back sobs. Caspian was right. If she hadn't reacted, she could have died.

"You're right, Caspian," she finally said, her voice barely a whisper, her face pale and drawn.

"I'm with you. Remember, what you did was justice. Justice for you and others who were victims of Silvia." Caspian assured her.

"Yes." Liora nodded. She tried to steady her breathing and force a semblance of normalcy back into her expression.

'If Caspina is proud of me, then maybe I had done the justice. It was Silvia who had done her wrong. Caspian trusts me. He knows I did nothing wrong.'

"Caspian, I trust you," Liora finally said, her voice gaining strength, her mind clinging to his words for stability.

She repeated Caspian's words as a mantra: 'I did the right thing. Caspian is proud of me. And I trust him.'

As she moved through the crowd of students, her movements became more natural, and her expression became more composed. She trusted Caspian, and she would follow his lead.

When the police arrived, they cordoned off the school grounds. They moved precisely, starting their investigation from the top floors, their footsteps echoing ominously in the empty halls. Upon reaching the terrace, the scene immediately caught their attention.

A burst water pipe had flooded the floor, leaving a slick surface. Near the edge of the terrace, they spotted a cigarette, damp from the water but unmistakably Silvia's preferred brand, and a lighter with Silvia's fingerprints.

The lead investigator crouched and examined the area with a sharp eye. After a thorough search, they found no clear signs of a struggle—no scuff marks, no misplaced objects, nothing to indicate foul play.

The slippery surface, combined with the cigarette's and lighter's positioning, painted a plausible picture: Silvia had come to smoke, lost her footing on the wet tiles, and fallen.

The falsified autopsy report later solidified their conclusion. Silvia's injuries were consistent with a high fall, and there were no signs of a physical altercation.

The case was ruled an accident, and the file was closed as Caspian wished with the help of his Grandpa, Geroge Glacier.

And the truth remained buried beneath layers of calculated deceit.

Caspian orchestrated every aspect of this outcome, ensuring the story unfolded precisely as he wanted. He played his part to perfection, leaving no loose ends. All the messages and calls exchanged with Silvia were wiped clean from her phone, a device he had gifted her.

The day he heard Liora calling someone else "baby," his world had tilted on its axis. It wasn't just jealousy, but a primal rage seared through him. ′She belonged to him.′

Silvia, keeping such a piece of vital information from him, deserved to die in his eyes. Silvia alone never stood a chance against Liora, who was learning self-defence techniques.

Daran got less of what Caspian had planned to do with him.

Liora, too, needed to be punished for calling someone else's baby without thinking twice.

To Caspian, it was unforgivable. He'd trusted Liora, and she had dared to make him feel powerless—something he couldn't tolerate.

Betrayal wasn't just an offence to Caspian but a declaration of war. And in war, there were casualties.

Now, Caspian had a complete hold on Liora. She couldn't escape him, even if she wanted to. And that assurance brought a peace he had lost after hearing Liora calling someone else 'baby'. But now everything had fallen back into place and under his control.