Damned by Him

The silence that followed Lucien’s words seemed to settle gradually over the dining table, stretching itself between the people gathered there until even the faint sounds of servants moving around the distant corners of the hall appeared louder than they had been before, and Rosaline remained seated with her fingers resting lightly against the edge of her plate, staring across at Lucien as though she expected his expression to change and reveal that what he had just said had been nothing more than a poorly timed attempt at humour.

"You’ve seen me before?" she finally asked, and although her voice was quiet, there was something unmistakably unsettled beneath it as her brows slowly drew together.

Lucien continued looking at her for several moments before he nodded, though the confidence he had carried earlier that evening appeared to have weakened slightly now that everyone at the table was waiting for him to explain himself. "Yes," he answered, his voice becoming more careful. "Or at least... I believe I have."

The moment those words left his mouth, Lord Alistair Valecrest shifted in his chair, and the movement was subtle enough that Rosaline might not have noticed it if she had not already been watching him closely. The Warden’s fingers tightened around the stem of his glass before he slowly placed it down.

"Lucien," he said, and although he did not raise his voice, there was a warning in it that immediately caught everyone’s attention.

Rosaline turned her gaze toward him. "Why are you stopping him?"

Alistair’s expression changed almost immediately, the brief tension disappearing behind the polite composure he had worn since the Duke and his companions arrived in the Western District. "I’m not stopping anyone, Your Grace," he replied, offering her a restrained smile. "I simply believe my son should be careful about making claims he cannot properly explain."

Lucien’s eyes moved toward his father, and something unreadable passed across his face before he looked back at Rosaline. "I’m not making it up."

Xandros, who had remained silent since Lucien first spoke, slowly lifted his gaze.

Rosaline felt the change before she properly saw it.

The Duke had been seated beside her with one hand resting near his untouched glass, and although his posture had not changed, there was something colder in his expression now, something that made the warmth of the dining hall suddenly feel insufficient.

"You should be certain of something like that before you say it," Xandros said quietly.

Lucien turned toward him.

For a moment, neither man spoke.

Rosaline had already noticed that Xandros disliked Lucien’s familiarity with her, and she had found it almost amusing when the Duke interrupted his offer to show her the markets earlier that day, but this was different. There was no jealousy in the expression he wore now. Whatever Lucien had said had caught his attention in a way that amusement never could.

Lucien leaned back slightly in his chair. "I am certain that she is familiar to me."

"Familiar," Xandros repeated, his voice carrying a quiet edge. "And yet you cannot tell us where you met her."

"I am trying to remember."

Rosaline looked between them, her confusion growing with every passing moment. "Then what exactly do you remember?"

Lucien’s attention returned to her, and she saw him hesitate again, not as though he were trying to invent an answer but as though he had reached into his own memory and found something waiting there that he could not properly bring into the light.

"I remember travelling when I was younger," he said eventually, his fingers moving absently against the tablecloth as he searched for the words. "My father often had responsibilities outside the Western District, and there were occasions when I accompanied him on journeys between territories, especially when I was old enough to understand that the world extended beyond the walls of our home."

Alistair’s jaw tightened and Rosaline noticed it immediately.

Lucien either did not notice or chose to continue regardless.

"There was one journey," he went on, his gaze lowering briefly as though the memory itself was somewhere beneath the surface of his thoughts, "and I cannot remember where we were going or why we stopped, but I remember that there was a girl there."

Rosaline’s fingers slowly curled around one another beneath the table.

"A girl?"

Lucien nodded.

"She was young. Around my age, perhaps younger."

"And you think that girl was me?"

He looked directly at her.

"I don’t know why, but when I saw you today, I felt as though I had seen you before. Not in the way people recognize someone from a portrait or from stories they have heard about them, but personally. As though at some point in my life, we stood in the same place and spoke to one another."

Rosaline stared at him.

Her mind immediately began searching for something, anything that might correspond with what he was saying, but the effort brought nothing except the same emptiness she had grown increasingly accustomed to whenever her past was mentioned. There were already too many parts of her life that felt like rooms with locked doors, and now Lucien had appeared with another key she wasn’t even certain belonged to her.

"But I’ve never been here," she said quietly.

Lucien’s expression softened.

"I know."

Rosaline frowned. "How do you know?"

"Because if you had been here recently, I would remember."

That answer did not comfort her.

If anything, it made her feel more unsettled.

Xandros leaned slightly forward in his chair, his eyes never leaving Lucien. "Then perhaps you are mistaken."

The words were calm, but Rosaline could hear the meaning beneath them.

Lucien heard it too.

"Perhaps," he admitted, although there was something reluctant in his voice. "But I don’t believe I am."

Alistair finally placed both hands against the table and rose from his chair, and the movement immediately drew everyone’s attention toward him. "I believe that is enough discussion about the matter for one evening," he said, forcing a polite smile as he looked toward Rosaline. "My son has clearly confused himself with an old memory, and I would rather not allow that confusion to disturb our guests."

Rosaline looked at him carefully.

There was something wrong with the way he said it.

He was not simply dismissing Lucien.

He was trying to end the conversation.

Christophine, who had spent most of the exchange unusually quiet, tilted her head slightly as she studied the Warden, while Seth looked from Alistair to Lucien with an expression that suggested he had noticed the same thing.

Lucien, however, did not appear willing to let the matter disappear so easily.

"Father—"

"Enough."

The word came more sharply this time.

For several seconds, no one spoke.

Rosaline watched Alistair’s face, and although the man quickly regained his composure, the damage had already been done. His reaction had been too immediate, too forceful, and whatever uncertainty Lucien’s story had created within her was now accompanied by another thought.

Lord Alistair knew something, perhaps not everything but something.

Xandros seemed to arrive at the same conclusion.

Rosaline could feel it in the way his attention slowly shifted from Lucien to the Warden, and for the first time since they had arrived in the Western District, the Duke appeared genuinely interested in the man who ruled it.

The remainder of the feast continued, though Rosaline doubted that anyone at the table was truly paying attention to the food anymore. Servants continued bringing dishes and refilling glasses while Alistair attempted to steer the conversation toward safer subjects, asking Seth about the roads they had travelled and questioning Christophine about whether she had ever visited the West before.

Christophine, naturally, appeared to enjoy making the Warden regret asking.

"I’ve visited many places," she replied as she sampled another piece of roasted meat. "Some willingly. Some because people were foolish enough to invite me."

Seth slowly turned toward her.

Christophine smiled.

"What?"

"You could have just said yes."

"I did say yes."

"You added something disturbing after it."

"That’s called personality."

Rosaline lowered her head, trying to hide the small smile that appeared on her lips, and when she glanced toward Xandros, she found him looking at her rather than listening to the conversation.

She immediately straightened.

"What?"

Xandros’ brows lifted slightly. "What?"

"You were staring."

"I was looking."

"That is the same thing."

"It isn’t."

Rosaline narrowed her eyes, but before she could continue, Christophine leaned toward Seth and whispered loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear, "They’re doing it again."

Xandros turned his head slowly.

Christophine immediately lowered her gaze to her plate.

"I’m eating."

Seth covered his mouth, though it was obvious that he was trying not to laugh.

For the first time since Lucien had mentioned seeing Rosaline before, some of the heaviness in the atmosphere loosened, and Rosaline found herself relaxing slightly, though she knew that the questions had not disappeared.

They had merely been pushed aside.

Lucien eventually rose from his chair, and when Rosaline looked toward him, she saw something apologetic in his expression.

"I should leave you to the rest of your evening," he said.

Rosaline hesitated before nodding.

Lucien looked directly at her. "I’m sorry if what I said disturbed you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

Rosaline studied him for a moment.

She still didn’t know whether she trusted him.

But she believed that he had been sincere about one thing.

He truly seemed confused.

"Thank you for telling me," she replied.

Xandros’ eyes immediately shifted toward her.

Rosaline could practically feel his disagreement.

Lucien noticed it as well, and although he said nothing, a faint smile touched his lips before he turned toward the Duke.

"Your Grace."

Xandros gave him a brief nod.

Nothing more.

Lucien left the hall shortly afterward, and Alistair followed several minutes later after assuring them that servants would remain available throughout the night and that everything would be prepared for their comfort.

The moment the Warden disappeared, Christophine leaned back in her chair and folded her arms.

"He’s hiding something."

Rosaline looked toward her.

Seth sighed.

"Of course you were going to say that."

Christophine turned toward him. "You don’t think so?"

"I think everyone in this room thinks so."

"Then I’m glad we’re all intelligent."

Xandros looked toward Christophine. "Do you know what it is?"

For once, her expression became serious.

"No."

Rosaline watched her carefully.

Christophine had become powerful enough that Rosaline sometimes forgot how much she might know about things the others couldn’t understand, but the uncertainty in her eyes appeared genuine.

"I know something about this place feels wrong," she continued. "And I know that man’s reaction was not the reaction of someone whose son simply remembered a stranger incorrectly."

Xandros remained quiet.

Rosaline lowered her gaze.

The words returned to her mind once again.

I’ve seen you before.

She hated how often people seemed to know things about her that she did not.

Christophine knew things.

Xandros knew things.

And now Lucien had appeared from nowhere with another piece of a past she couldn’t remember.

By the time they finally left the dining hall, Rosaline had become quieter than before.

The corridors of the residence were dimly illuminated by lamps placed along the stone walls, and their footsteps echoed softly as they walked toward the rooms prepared for them. Seth and Christophine eventually disappeared down another corridor, leaving Rosaline and Xandros walking beside one another in silence.

For several moments, neither of them spoke.

Then Rosaline finally looked toward him.

"Do you think he’s lying?"

Xandros continued walking.

"I don’t know."

She frowned. "You don’t know?"

"I don’t trust him."

"That isn’t what I asked."

"I know."

Rosaline stopped walking.

Xandros took another step before realizing that she was no longer beside him, and when he turned, he found her standing in the middle of the corridor with her arms folded across her chest.

"You’ve become very annoying lately."

His brows rose.

"Lately?"

Rosaline stared at him.

Xandros returned to where she stood, and for several moments, he simply looked at her.

"I don’t know whether Lucien is lying," he said eventually. "But I know his father reacted as though he was afraid of what Lucien might remember."

Rosaline’s expression changed.

"You noticed that too?"

"I notice everything around you."

The answer came so naturally that Rosaline remained silent for a moment.

Then she looked away.

Xandros’ expression softened slightly.

"He is hiding something," he continued. "Whether that something concerns you, I cannot say yet."

Rosaline slowly nodded.

They began walking again.

After a few moments, she spoke without looking at him.

"You were jealous."

Xandros stopped but Rosaline continued walking.

"Rosaline." Xandros called out .

She smiled faintly and said, "You were."

"I was not."

She turned around and began walking backward so she could look at him.

"You practically threatened him when he offered to show me the market."

"I told him no."

"Very aggressively."

"I wasn’t aggressive."

Rosaline laughed.

Xandros stared at her.

She continued walking backward.

"You don’t like him."

"I don’t trust him."

"That isn’t the same thing."

"It can be."

Rosaline smiled wider.

"You’re jealous."

Xandros stepped forward.

Rosaline, still walking backward, almost collided with the wall before his hand immediately caught her arm and stopped her.

Her laughter disappeared.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

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