Lucien sat in the dimly lit chamber, the journal open in his trembling hands. Shadows from the flickering hearth danced across the stone walls, and the steady beat of his heart thundered against his ribs. Crimson eyes scanned the faded ink, words scrawled in delicate, hurried script by a woman long dead. The words blurred for a moment before refocusing, each sentence cutting deeper than the last. His pulse was a drumbeat in his ears, a reminder of everything at stake, of how far he had already fallen. The mission had been simple. Retrieve the relic. Leave no trace. Do not get attached. Yet here he was, choking on the weight of revelations inked by a ghost.
He'd come searching for answers about the crystal flower—the relic that could save his mother, his people, his kingdom. What he found instead was her. Aurelia. Not just the illegitimate daughter of a human king. Not merely the forgotten child of a dead mistress. No. She was the key. The last thread in a bloodline he thought lost, tied by ancient magic to the necklace his people so desperately needed. And worse, she was the girl he'd been ordered to deceive. The girl whose laughter stayed with him long after the sound had faded. The one whose eyes haunted his dreams.
Lucien's hands tightened around the journal, the leather creaking beneath his grip. A sickening twist knotted his stomach. He'd spent years training to be ruthless, to put duty above sentiment, and yet now, all he could think about was the devastation this would bring her. The look in her eyes when she learned the truth. The way she'd stop smiling at him. The way she'd pull away.
The door creaked open behind him, and instinct had him on edge before the voice stopped him cold.
"What are you doing?"
Aurelia's voice was sharp, laced with confusion and something dangerously close to hurt. She stood in the doorway, arms folded tightly across her chest, bare feet silent against the stone floor. Her nightdress clung to her frame, her hair tumbling in dark waves over her shoulders, but it was her eyes that caught him. Stormy, narrowed in anger, rimmed red from unshed tears.
He closed the journal carefully, setting it aside as though it burned. His throat felt raw as he forced air into his lungs, standing slowly.
"Aurelia, I—"
"Answer me," she snapped. "Why are you reading that? What do you want from me?"
Lucien crossed the room, each step slow, measured, careful not to spook her. She didn't back away. Her chin lifted in defiance, a stubborn tilt he'd come to recognize. She was beautiful like this, fierce even in anger, cheeks flushed, eyes glinting like storm clouds about to break.
"It's time I told you the truth," he said quietly, his voice rougher than usual.
Her frown deepened, suspicion flickering across her face. She hesitated before moving to sit on the edge of her bed, her posture rigid, eyes never leaving his. "The truth about what?"
He dragged a hand through his dark hair, the weight of what he was about to say heavier than the sword at his side. He couldn't tell her everything. Not yet. Not what he was. Not his true name. That truth would destroy what little fragile trust still existed between them. But she deserved more than lies.
"I wasn't sent here just to guard you," he began, his words careful, deliberate. "There's something your family possesses. A relic. A necklace in the shape of a crystal flower."
Aurelia's brows knitted together. "You mean my mother's necklace? It's been in my family for generations."
He nodded, pain flickering across his face. "It was never meant to be here. That necklace holds ancient magic, Aurelia. Magic that belongs to my people. It's the source of prosperity for my kingdom. Without it, our lands wither, our rivers run dry. My mother… she's dying. And if I don't return it soon, everything we've fought for will collapse."
She stared at him, disbelief flickering behind her eyes. "I… I don't understand. Why would you care about some old necklace? Who are you, Lucien?"
He let out a weary sigh, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I'm someone who was sent here to take back what was stolen," he admitted, voice thick. "But I didn't expect to find you."
Aurelia's throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her hands gripped the edge of her bed so tightly her knuckles blanched. "I found that box and the journal tonight," she whispered, almost to herself. "I didn't even know any of this. My father… he never told me."
"Because it's dangerous for you to know," Lucien murmured. He knelt before her, unwilling to tower over her now. "And now you're in the middle of something far bigger than either of us."
She gave a short, humorless laugh. "Bigger than an arranged marriage to a stranger? Hard to imagine."
Lucien's chest ached at the bitterness in her voice. Without thinking, he reached for her hand. To his surprise, she didn't pull away, though her fingers were cold against his.
"I'll get you out," he said, the words leaving him before he could stop them. "The night of your wedding. We'll leave together."
Aurelia's eyes snapped up to his. "You'd… help me run away?"
"I have to," he admitted. "For the necklace. For my people. But also because I can't leave you here, not like this."
She searched his face as though trying to see through the layers of armor and lies. What she saw made her eyes soften, even as her lips trembled.
"You're insane," she whispered.
"Probably," he said with a faint, wry smile. "But it's the only way."
Aurelia exhaled a long, shaking breath. The fire's glow caught the sheen of tears in her eyes, though none fell. "I don't even know where we'd go."
"I do," Lucien said. "I'll keep you safe."
She looked down at their joined hands, her fingers tightening around his. "I don't trust you," she admitted quietly. "Not completely."
"I don't deserve your trust," he replied, his voice raw. "But I'll earn it. Or die trying."
For a long moment, the room was silent but for the crackle of the hearth and the muffled howl of wind against the glass panes. Outside, the storm was gathering strength, a fierce wind rattling the shutters as though echoing the tempest brewing inside them both.
"I guess we better figure out how to escape a royal wedding," Aurelia murmured at last.
Lucien's faint smile vanished, replaced by grim determination. "We will. I promise you, Aurelia. No matter what happens, I won't let them cage you."
She didn't reply, but she didn't let go either.
The wind screamed outside, carrying with it the promise of chaos to come. Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled midnight. A reminder that time was running out.
Lucien rose to his feet, reluctant to leave but knowing lingering now would only raise suspicions. "I have to go before someone notices," he said, his thumb brushing across the back of her hand.
Aurelia nodded, her gaze lingering on the journal he'd left on her bed. "Will you come back tomorrow?"
"I'll come back tonight if you need me," he promised, his voice soft but unyielding.
She managed a weak smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes but held a flicker of trust he hadn't expected to see. "Then go, Lucien. And be careful."
He gave a short nod, his heart a mess of emotions he couldn't untangle. As he slipped from her chambers and melted into the shadows, the only thing he was certain of was this—he could no longer separate his duty from his heart. Not when it came to her.
And soon, the entire kingdom would burn for it.