Lucas entered the room with slow, barely audible steps.
The room was empty.
No sign of Irene.
A heavy silence clung to the walls.
He quickly changed his clothes,
then walked out onto the balcony.
Closed the door behind him and pulled a cigarette from his pocket.
He lit it slowly.
Inhaled the smoke as if trying to swallow something… anything to fill the void inside.
Each exhale was like the sigh of a man dragging his body through a world he didn't belong to.
He didn't feel anything. No sadness. No anger.
Not even longing.
That was the worst state of all… the state of "nothingness."
The signs of depression had begun weaving their threads around him.
A sense of emptiness… futility… as if everything in life had turned dull and meaningless.
He stood there in the cold, without a coat, without a sound, as if punishing himself on purpose.
The cold wind was harsh, but Lucas didn't flinch.
It was as if his mind had ordered his body to stop feeling.
…
Minutes passed. Or maybe hours.
When Irene returned, she was dragging her body with visible fatigue.
The maids helped her bathe, then left in silence.
She was getting ready for bed.
Silence still lingered in the room.
She opened her drawer quietly, took out a small box, and just before she could fully open it—
The balcony door swung open suddenly.
She froze.
Stood up quickly, her heart pounding violently.
She hid the box behind her back.
Lucas entered.
He didn't look at her directly, just closed the door and walked toward the bed.
She said, her voice uneasy:
"Oh my God… how long have you been out there? You scared me..."
He didn't reply.
He threw himself onto the bed slowly, as if his body refused to move, and placed his hand over his face.
The smell of smoke was strong… invading her lungs.
His mood? Worse than ever.
Trying to ease the tension, she said:
"About the trip… I spoke to the king. I tried to convince him to let you go alone, but he insisted that I accompany you, and even—"
He cut her off.
His voice was low, hoarse, but sharp as blades:
"I don't care… whether you come or not. I don't care about anything. Just… stop talking. My head hurts."
She looked at him in silence.
Then sat at the edge of the bed.
She whispered:
"So… when are we leaving?"
He sighed deeply, as if the breath itself was too heavy to carry.
Then said:
"In two weeks at most."
Irene lowered her head.
"Two weeks… that's enough time to arrange many things… to do many things… I'll figure it out."
She thought to herself, her mind beginning to turn silently.
Then she looked at him again.
"He must be angry with me… there's no point in talking now. I just need… to avoid him."
But first… sleep.
She glanced at him, and once she was sure he wasn't looking at her,
she returned the box slowly to the drawer.
Closed it like someone hiding a crime.
Exhaled, lay down, and shut her eyes.
But sleep didn't come.
Two hours passed. Maybe more.
Then she got up quietly, moved silently.
She looked at the other side of the bed… Lucas was lying on his side, back toward her, seemingly asleep.
She opened the drawer again.
Slowly.
Silently.
Took out the box, swallowed one pill.
Then returned to bed.
What she didn't know…
was that Lucas hadn't slept.
He had been awake the entire time.
His eyes hadn't shut for a moment. He heard everything.
In the morning…
Irene got up, as usual, and went out for a walk in the garden with Sally.
Inside, Lucas got out of bed, waited a moment to be sure the room was empty.
He walked toward the drawer.
Opened it.
Took out the box—small white pills with barely comprehensible ingredients.
But he read the name.
Etched it into his memory.
Then returned it exactly as it was…
and left. Quietly.
---
The sun had just begun to warm the edges of the garden when Irene and Sally sat on their usual bench.
Sally looked around with slight unease and said:
"I don't trust her… how can she ask to see the contract? We don't even know who she is. You barely spoke to her, and suddenly she's making such a big request?"
Irene looked away, staring into the distance, then said calmly:
"I know… but I didn't want to escalate things between us. I don't want to start another conflict, Sally."
Sally sighed in frustration and muttered:
"I just hope the message reaches Fantine… with all those storms at the border, nothing is predictable."
Irene said:
"It'll get there… even if it's late. I have a feeling."
A short silence fell between them.
Then Irene said:
"We should go back, I need to prepare for the council meeting."
…
She didn't remember how she ended up in front of the mirror.
Suddenly, she found Sally brushing her hair, and she was wearing a velvet blue dress.
"Wait… Sally, what happened?"
Her voice was soft but sharp.
Sally raised an eyebrow, confused:
"What do you mean?"
"We were… just in the garden! Now? How? When did we come back? When did I change?"
Sally stopped brushing and set the brush on the table.
"My lady… we returned a short while ago. You came into the room yourself, changed in front of me and… are you sure you're alright?"
Irene looked at her reflection in the mirror, not recognizing her face for a moment.
She whispered:
"Something's wrong… I'm not okay, Sally."
Sally replied gently, as if she had been expecting this:
"I told you before, you need real rest. Why didn't you listen to me… alright, I'll tell the servants to inform the king you're sick… a little fever, some fatigue… he'll believe it. You don't have to attend the council today."
But Irene shook her head:
"No, I have to go today. This meeting in particular… I can't miss it."
Sally looked at her with concern but didn't argue.
Irene headed to the carriage quietly, trying to calm her emotions.
...
Irene entered the council chamber accompanied by Richard.
Viola wasn't there.
For the first time, Irene felt a strange sense of relief at her absence.
She sat in her designated seat, trying to focus, though her mind was clouded by everything happening.
Just before the meeting began…
The door opened.
Lucas walked in—his steps quiet… yet carrying something hidden.
He sat across from them.
Irene looked at him, then at Richard, who stared at his son with a cold gaze, charged with old anger.
She gently placed her hand on the king's shoulder and whispered:
"Your Majesty… please, don't be harsh with him. Lucas is attending this meeting for you…"
He didn't look at her, only replied in a low voice:
"No, princess… he always just does what he wants. I know him well."
She fell silent.
Lowered her head, realizing this wasn't a time for fixing things.
There are moments we must simply observe…
not drag them where they don't want to go.
---