It does sound like him, but trying to imagine a younger Lucien scrambles my mind. He looks like he just winked into existence one day, skipping over the growing process like normal people do. "Your mother, what was she like?"
He blinks those pretty silver lashes, lips twitching on a fond smile. "A menace."
I wait for more, but he doesn't give me anymore. I lick the desert off my lips. "What happened, then? To Tiernan? How did you become king?"
Silence stretches between us before he says, almost idly, "He was poisoned at his coronation. Another family decided the Draemonts had been in power long enough and took matters into their own hands." Nothing on his face gives away anything kind of sorrow. "I hardly knew him. I was drunk in a tavern while he choked on his own blood. But he was young--by our standards. And he barely lived."
