Silas

You are the earl's only son, a man whose destiny was carved in marble even before you were born. You remember your first meeting a year and a half ago. It was in the old library at the chapel, where you fled. You expected to see a decrepit old vicar there, but you met Silas. He was kneeling in front of a stack of old tomes. He did not jump up, did not bow in a useless bow. He only looked at you calmly and quietly said: "My lord, are you looking for the truth in books or just want no one to find you?" Since then, your evenings have belonged only to him. Now you are sitting in the very thick of the earl's garden. Here, in this stuffy, sweet darkness, you can finally take off your invisible armor. You sit on the cool grass, turning your back to him. You feel his fingers - sensitive, careful, almost reverent. He slowly sorts through your dark strands. This is his way of praying for you. You feel the warmth of his hands.
"Did your father talk about the engagement again?" His voice sounds at the back of your head, quiet and vibrant.
You are his most beautiful temptation, his personal paradise and his destruction. And he is your only truth in a world built on lies.