A sharp, humorless laugh escaped him. He shut his eyes, breathed in, and steadied himself. When he opened them again, his mask was back in place.
Perhaps it was time to stop thinking of the princes and the general as adversaries. Perhaps they were shields, tools, allies—whether they liked it or not.
Lucian straightened, his smile returning, softer now, edged with something dangerous.
"At least," he whispered, "they'll prove useful very soon."
With that, he blew out the candle. Darkness swallowed the study whole. Yet even with the flame gone, the letter still seemed to burn on the desk, its red ink etched into his thoughts long after he turned away.
Lucian lingered outside the prince's office longer than he should have. His fingers drummed lightly against the folded parchment tucked within his sleeve, the red-stained words still fresh in his mind. He had read them too many times already, each repetition leaving his chest a little tighter, his smile a little thinner.
