A pause. The castle was silent at this hour, the only sounds the distant crackle of the dungeons' torches and the faint rustle of robes from the boys shuffling outside your dormitory door.

There was a beat of silence. Mattheo shoved his hand toward the doorframe, the bouquet of deep red roses crumpling slightly under his grip. A second set of knuckles brushed against it. White lilies, wrapped in the same brown paper.