"Where are you going?" Rowena asked from her bed.
"To my chamber," Lucien replied, not looking back at her.
"Lucien," Rowena called, desperate, "Stay with me... I’m scared," she whispered.
"I will send in a maid to keep you company," he stated, and left the room.
Drama was the last thing he needed after seeing his father. He needed to avoid everything and anything that could deter him.
"Rita," he called to the maid in the hallway.
"Your Grace," she bowed.
"Stay with the princess. Give her whatever she asks for," he instructed and left.
Out in the grand hall, he saw Soren standing with Rowan in front of the door. He wanted to go up to his chamber, but he also needed to do one last thing: make everyone realize that he was done with Elian.
He marched over to them, his face a cold mask.
"Cousin... you’ve returned. How is he?" Rowan asked, turning to face Lucien.
"If he’s strong enough to push the princess down, send him up to the chambers. I have a few tasks to do tonight," he ordered.
"Don’t," Rowan placed his hand on Soren’s chest, stopping him from saying what he wanted to say.
Soren clenched his teeth, looking away in anger. How can Lucien be so cruel?
"You need the wounded boy up in your chamber for work?" Rowan asked slowly, watching the darkness cloud Lucien’s eyes.
"Now," Lucien said, turned away, and walked toward his hallway.
"Elian is not moving," Soren bit out.
Rowan slowly turned, locking eyes with Soren. "The Duke can dismiss you in a snap of his fingers. If you still want to be here and at least get to see and treat Elian, I suggest you do as you’re told..." He sighed. "I don’t like this either, but I’m hoping Lucien doesn’t break the boy—"
"I’ll go," Elian spoke behind them.
"What are you doing out here? I asked you to lie down," Soren was beside Elian in the blink of an eye, holding his hand.
He had cleaned Elian’s wound and wrapped it with a new cloth, hoping the young man slept the pain away. But there Elian was, wearing Soren’s white shirt he had found in the infirmary.
"I heard him. I’ll go," Elian repeated.
Soren stared at Elian’s pale face and barked out a humorless laugh. "So, this is it? He shows up and you’re running to him? You think he’ll change? You think he’ll stop being ruthless just because you showed him you care? You’re losing blood, Elian, and if I’m being practical, I’d say your life is on the line—"
"Soren," Rowan cut him off, walking closer to Elian. "Let the man go," he said quietly.
Soren sighed, taking his hands away from Elian.
"How are you feeling?" Rowan asked gently.
Elian smiled. "He said it... I’m dying," he murmured.
Rowan smirked. "I don’t think so... I think your strong will get through this... and him," he said, touching the fingerprints on Elian’s face.
"You did good... hitting her back. Do it every time she dares to lay her hands on you... you’re no slave," Rowan praised.
"That’s not what Lucien would think," Elian replied.
"No one cares what he thinks," Soren scoffed, clearly still enraged.
Elian sighed. "Then, goodnight," he nodded and gently walked away from them.
"He’ll be fine," he heard Rowan murmur.
He really hoped he would be fine. From the look he saw in Lucien’s eyes, he doubted that greatly.
It felt like something had finally snapped in Lucien, something dark and all-consuming.
As he walked along the hallway, he could feel Finn’s worried eyes on him.
"What are you doing? Where are you going?" Finn asked quietly.
"He asked for me," Elian replied.
"He..." Finn sighed, clenching his fist beside him. "I’m sorry," he whispered.
Elian shook his head. "Don’t be. I’m fine," he gestured to the door behind Finn.
Reluctantly, Finn pulled the door open for Elian. "Be careful on the stairs," he smiled.
Elian only nodded and stepped through the door.
He could feel Finn watching him as he climbed the stairs, and the door only closed after Finn could no longer see him again.
He inhaled shakily, facing the long staircase. He shivered, but not from the cold in the staircase; he shivered from Lucien’s coldness.
What happened to him?
Was he simply angry about Rowena, or was there something else?
He sighed and kept walking the stone-wall stairs, the candles flickering as he walked past them.
He finally made it out of the stairs, leaning his back against the wall to catch his breath as his wound throbbed painfully in his chest. He hoped he wouldn’t bleed again; he was scared Soren might be right... he might actually be dying from the amount of blood he had lost.
Blinking away his dark thoughts, he turned his head to stare at Lucien’s chamber door, wondering what he was going to meet in there.
If this was really how Lucien had turned, then... should he kill him?
His mother’s words echoed in his head, his mind feeling conflicted and angry. Truly, he was the only person who could get this close to Lucien, but that was the problem; if anything happened to Lucien, they’d easily find him and punish him.
Running.
He was thinking of escaping; it was better than killing Lucien. He couldn’t kill him, even if he tried.
"Oh," he was startled as the door was suddenly pulled open.
He glanced up to meet those dark green eyes staring at him with a cold, distanced look.
’So, this was it?’ He leaned away from the wall, bowing slightly.
"You asked for me, Your Grace," as he spoke, his chest tightened impossibly, pain shooting all over his body.
’You did not care when I was dying, and now that I seem to be surviving, you still look at me like dirt...’ He bit his lip, stopping himself from questioning a Duke who looked like he had made up his mind to be cold and ruthless.
"In here. Now," Lucien ordered, walking into his chamber.
Elian gulped, gritting his teeth. Slowly, he dragged his feet into Lucien’s chamber; the room felt even more unfamiliar, just like the man standing inside it.
Lucien stood by the side of his desk, staring at the empty parchments. He heard Elian limp inside behind him and had turned away so he wouldn’t keep seeing those blue eyes quietly asking what had gone wrong.
Nothing had gone wrong; things were exactly how they were supposed to be, and he wasn’t changing it.
"I’m here, Your Grace," Elian’s weak voice spoke behind him.
Lucien shut his eyes, suppressing that stupid voice in his head that was whispering to him to treat Elian gently, to turn around and pull him into his arms, and to hug him through the night until dawn.
There was no way he was trusting anyone that much; trust was exactly what got his father in that position... it was what had ruined Lysandra... it was what traumatized Lucien forever.
So, no. There were no sentiments in reality, no matter how hard what he was doing felt, he would see it through. He needed to make Elian understand that Elian had no power over him, because if Elian thought that after sleeping with him a few times he could access him anytime... he was wrong.
Elian was about to understand that Lucien did not need his body... just his abilities.
"Sit," Lucien commanded, moving away from the desk.
Elian quietly went over to the desk, each second of suffocating silence pressing down on him like a dead weight. He needed an explanation, a consolation... he needed Lucien, even though that was the worst thing he should need... he still wanted him.
But, without saying a word, he pulled the heavy wooden chair out, grunting as he did so due to his wound, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
He braced his hand on the desk and lowered himself on the chair, his breathing ragged from the overexertion. Since Rowena’s visit until now, he hadn’t rested, and his body was starting to give up on him.
Lucien watched Elian’s paling face and frowned. He did not want this, no, he did not. But he could not not do this either. It was the only way to get his results.
He hardened his gaze and cleared his throat, pushing the image of Elian lying on that forest ground away from his mind.
"There are over eighty villages in this kingdom. Each has a town square." He walked over to the desk, placing parchment in front of Elian.
"Copy that into those," he gestured to the empty parchments by the side of the table, "There are a hundred copies. Do that and leave," he instructed and immediately walked away, heading inside his washroom.
Elian was about to reach out for the parchments when a sharp, piercing headache shot through his head. His hands immediately flew to his head as he groaned.
"Ugh..." he breathed deeply, eyes shut tightly.
He stayed like that, waiting for the headache to subside. When it finally did, Elian slowly lowered his hand, breathing heavily. As he reached for the parchments again, he realized his fingers were trembling.
He ignored it and continued, for he knew that it wasn’t sickness or his wound that had him trembling; it was his heart breaking over and over again over Lucien’s attitude.
He thought he couldn’t get anymore hurt for the night, but the moment he read the title of what Lucien had asked him to duplicate, the quill he picked up slipped off his fingers, and his eyes blurred with unwanted tears.
On the parchment was written: [Invitation To The Engagement Ball Of Duke Lucien Valemont and Princess Rowena.]
"No..." His lip trembled, fingers shaking visibly.
Lucien can’t do this to him.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter