Serathine didn't wait for a response.
She turned without a word and walked down the white steps of the temple, her heels tapping against polished concrete as the glass doors slid shut behind them.
Outside, the sky was sharp and cloudless. The city stretched upward in seamless layers of steel and stone. Banners hung from the light posts in imperial gold and navy, marking the Temple District. Across the street, a fountain bubbled in controlled symmetry, barely loud enough to drown out the hum of distant traffic.
A black car waited at the curb. Glossy, silent. Government plates. The kind that said power without saying anything at all. Misty would give anything for this kind of influence.
Serathine approached it like it belonged to her. Of course, it did.
She turned halfway, one perfectly arched brow lifted just enough.
"I assume you don't have anything planned today," she said.
Lucas stared at her.
She didn't ask anything but merely informed Lucas that even if he had a schedule, it would be pointless.
"No," he said. His voice came out flat.
Something told him that he didn't.
It was difficult to recall the exact details of his days in the Temple. A blur of prayers, silence, and the occasional visit from a priest too shy to ask questions. It was customary for a noble coming of age to visit the Temple prior to their ceremony and party, and this had not changed in generations. There was nothing special to it.
Nothing worth remembering.
Except that now, he remembered everything.
And none of this felt simple.
"Perfect," Serathine said, as if she had penciled him into her schedule weeks ago. "Then we won't be late."
"Late for what?" he asked before he could stop himself.
She smiled, something small and sharp. "You'll see."
The door to the car opened with a soft mechanical click.
She entered first, and Lucas followed, his movements stiff from a body too young for the memories it held.
The interior of the car was dim and quiet. Leather seats, a muted dash, and tinted windows that swallowed the city light.
Serathine tapped once on the privacy screen, and the world outside was shut out completely.
Lucas watched her, still trying to understand if this was reality or a very cruel dream.
Serathine didn't hurry to clear anything for Luas yet. She spent two minutes on her phone before closing it and placing it in her clutch before continuing to talk with him as if nothing had happened. "I like collecting lost things, Lucas. Especially the ones that know how to stay quiet."
He couldn't think of anything special that would make Lady Serathine take an interest in him. Nothing at all. She didn't bother to know him before.
'Why now? What changed?'
So, as he had a second chance, or maybe just the illusion of one, he decided to ask. To be bold.
"What makes you think that I'm quiet?"
The words weren't loud, but they cut the air between them like a thread.
Serathine blinked rapidly, her expression weirdly… entertained.
She angled her chin slightly, her amber eyes catching the sunlight passing through the tinted glass. "Because you have not asked me where we are going. You haven't asked why I helped you. You haven't asked what I want."
Her fan tapped once against her knee.
"And because you sat across from me like a shadow trying not to cast one."
Lucas lowered his gaze, clenching his hands.
She wasn't wrong.
He had survived for too long by staying quiet. By being still. By letting others fill the silence with their own assumptions
He looked up again.
Serathine smirked with the elegance of a woman who already had everything she wanted and only chased the things she hadn't tasted yet.
"Entertainment," she said simply. "That's the first."
She played with her fan thoughtfully, then added, "Second, I had my eyes on you long ago. But until now, either Misty or Ophelia was near you like glue."
Lucas froze.
Not visibly. Not enough to be obvious. But inside, something stilled.
Ophelia.
He remembered now.
Every time he had to attend a gala, or a state dinner, or a holiday ceremony, if he was invited at all, it was with her on his arm. His younger half-sister. Blonde, flawless, sweet-voiced, and always dressed to impress. Misty's favorite. The one the court called legitimate. Misty's daughter with her first official husband, who died after ten years of marriage but left nothing behind.
Misty forced Lucas to take Ophelia with him. Told him it was for his own good. That it was protection. That having Ophelia beside him would make people forget he was born out of convenience and not consequence.
It didn't.
They only remembered it more.
"Why would they be a problem?"
"Because they would keep tailing you," Serathine replied, tone light, as if it wasn't personal. "They're still somewhat relevant because of your lineage. Caelan asked me a favor: find a way to get you out of their clutches."
Lucas blinked once. "Caelan?"
"The Emperor." She replied with the patience of a saint.
"I know who he is." The bitterness slid out before he could filter it.
"Why would he care about me? Seventeen years too late."
To Lucas's surprise, the duchess started to laugh.
A soft, indulgent laugh from a woman who had seen too much and survived it admirably.
"You speak," Serathine said, "like someone who thinks emperors make room for their mistakes."
Lucas didn't answer. His mouth was too dry. He didn't expect anything from the man.
She folded her hands in her lap, her gaze flicking to him like a slow appraisal. "He cares now. That's what matters."
"No," Lucas said, sharper this time. "I believe that doesn't matter."
"Oh?" she murmured, one brow rising. "Now do you? How so?"
"Because I don't care what the Emperor wants from me," he said. "I'm sure the little money he sent Misty can be repaid, if it even mattered. I have no interest in owing him anything."
He leaned back, gaze fixed on the blurred city just beyond the tinted window.
"I have no desire to see him or be seen by him." Whatever he's planning, I want no part of it."
His voice didn't shake. Not this time. It was the kind of calm that came from something already broken.
"I won't be sold like a property."
That made Serathine still. Not startled. Just… still.
She studied him like she was adding something up for the first time.
"I didn't say anything about being sold," she said carefully.
"No," Lucas replied quietly. "You didn't have to."
The car slowed.
Her estate came into view, with wrought iron gates swinging inward and white stone and clean lines rising from manicured gardens. The kind of place where consequences didn't come without an invitation.
"I'm not interested in the Emperor's version of help," he added. "I'm not interested in being anyone's favorite."
Serathine gave a small, thoughtful smile.
"Well," she said, brushing her skirt smooth as the car came to a stop, "that makes two of us."