Yully slept deep and late despite the events of the night. Her father had tried to call twice, and she tossed the phone on the bed. She'd hoped sleep would remove some of her confusion from her night.
She still felt him. Yully shook away her lingering fear. She couldn't dislodge the image of Jule from her mind. His panther-like physique and tattoos gave him all the appearance of a threat, and yet, he'd fended off her blows with gentleness he didn't have to show. Her father never would've shown such restraint. Jule could've broken her in two and hadn't.
She couldn't stop thinking about him.
"Yully," the owner of the bed and breakfast, Moira, called through the door. "I brought you breakfast!"
"Thanks, Moira," she said and opened the door.
"You father called, dear," the woman said, holding out a tray of sausage, eggs, blood pudding, and coffee. "He's worried since you didn't answer the phone."
"I just woke up, Moira. I'll give him a call."
The plump woman nodded and hurried away, like everyone save her father did around her. Yully ate quickly without touching her phone. She didn't know what to say to her father after last night. The way he and Jule had talked to each other, like long-lost enemies, reminded her she didn't know much about her father. She'd always been grateful to him for accepting her and her gift, but he'd always refused to tell her what exactly he was and how he seemed to be able to read her mind sometimes. Right now, she didn't want him reading her mind. Instead of calling him, she texted him.
Leaving now, Papa. She gathered up her things and left out the back door to avoid the small group of people gathered in the dining room for brunch. The drive home was too short, and she reached the large manor at noon. It still rained, but it wasn't cold that made her hands tremble as she left the car.
She still felt the man named Jule, and he was here. The sense had grown stronger as she drove nearer. It now felt like it had when she was in the alley: as if he were standing beside her. She gazed up at the solemn façade of the manor before jogging up the walkway to the front door.
The butler opened it when she approached, and a maid stood waiting to take her coat. She shed it and her boots quickly, wanting to escape to her room before her father cornered her. She'd made it halfway up the stairwell when his voice rang out.