Long chapter..
> Trigger Warning: This chapter contains themes of obsession, emotional disorientation, seductive manipulation, and implied power struggles.
Music Suggestion:
đľ "Elegy" â Lisa Gerrard & Patrick Cassidy
đľ "Darkness Visible" â Max Richter
---
The rain had returnedâslow, persistent, like breath against glass. Lucian stood at the tall arched window, his reflection fractured by streaks of water, eyes hollow beneath a crown that had begun to weigh like a noose.
The echo of mara's heels had barely faded when Lucian felt itâthe shift in the room, a tremor not of sound but of scent. Faint at first. Cold metal, leather, and something darkerâblood, old and familiar.
He didn't need to turn.
Renak had arrived.
"You're slipping," came the voiceâcalm, deep, tinged with condescension. It slithered in like smoke.
Lucian's jaw clenched. "You're late."
The other man stepped from the shadows near the arched balcony door, as though he'd always been there, just out of sight, just out of reach. His cloak was heavy with rain, his boots quiet on the polished floor. There was no announcement, no entourage. Renak never needed one. He was a blade in the nightâsent by the Council, or perhaps by himself.
"I came when I needed to. The Court whispers. And so do the remnants of war. They say our Prince has grown sentimental."
"Mara's presence lingers more than it should,"said Lord Renak, crossing the room without bowing. "She's grown⌠possessive of your absence."
"Let her linger. The scent of desperation masks treason well."
Renak faltered. Just for a second. Then grinned.
"Still sharp, my lord. Some had wondered if you'd grownâ"
"Weak?" Lucian cuts in, voice low,eyes narrowed, red flickering beneath the grey. "They forget whom they whisper about."
Renak tilted his head, watching him too closely. "Do they?"
The room thickened with tension. Lucian moved slowly, deliberately, to the table beside him. He poured a crimson elixir into a crystal glass and drankânot because he needed toâbut because it quieted the beast clawing beneath his skin.
The silence that followed was more dangerous than an open insult.
"You didn't come to warn me," he finally said. "You came to taste my weakness."
Renak smiledâ gave a half-bow and retreated, but not before Lucian caught the flicker of amusement in his eyes.
They were all watching now. Waiting. Hoping he'd fall.
Outside, the storm roared louder.
Inside, Lucian's silence spoke volumes.
---
Lucian wandered the empty wing of his castle that night, fingers trailing the stones worn smooth by time. A soldier once. A king now. A prisoner always.
In a cracked mirror, his reflection stared back at him: raven-black hair falling messily over sharp cheekbones, crimson eyes shadowed, feral. Beautiful in the way blades were. Dangerous in the way they didn't always look.
He turned away, but not fast enough.
He saw Kyrell again.
Not in the mirror. Not in the flesh.
But in a flashâa glimmer behind his thoughts.
That soft, innocent face. The memory of fingers brushing his own before the world fell apart.
Why couldn't he let go?
Why couldn't Kyrell?
---
Outside the castle walls, rebellion brewed like a storm in the distance. There were whispers of the Ash Court rising again, old allies turning restless, hungry for the crown. They believed Lucian distracted, disarmed by something they couldn't name.
They didn't know it was a boy.
A boy with stars in his eyes.
A boy Lucian might kill for, if it came to that.