Alexander knew the moment Lucien walked into his study that something had shifted.
Not in the kingdom.
In Lucien.
His posture was controlled, his expression composed, but Alexander saw it anyway the tension in his shoulders, the heat in his eyes. Lucien was furious.
Not the sharp anger that flared and vanished.
The deeper kind.
The kind that came from feeling diminished.
Alexander dismissed his men quickly. Not because he didn't need them, but because he didn't want Lucien having this argument in front of strangers. Lucien deserved privacy, at least, even if the palace was stealing everything else from them.
When the door shut and Lucien spoke, Alexander listened.
He let Lucien say it. Let him pour it out.
Because Lucien's anger mattered. It meant he still wanted to fight.
And Alexander… Alexander wanted him alive long enough to win.
The problem was that Lucien's instincts were sharpening faster than the palace's patience.
Lucien was starting to see too clearly.
