"Again, young Morel. Say it again, I dare you," he whispered against Elian's ear.
Elian's breath hitched—just for a second.
Then he steadied.
His chest rose against Lucien's: slow, deliberate.
"I said..." Elian's voice came out lower this time, rougher, but no less defiant, "I will never succumb to you."
A pause.
His lips parted slightly as he tilted his head—just enough.
"...unless in death."
Silence.
Thick.
Heavy.
Lucien did not move.
But his grip tightened—just slightly.
Not enough to hurt.
Enough to remind.
His gaze dropped—briefly—to Elian's lips.
Then back to his eyes.
Sharp.
Searching.
"You speak of death too easily," Lucien murmured, his voice quieter now—dangerously so.
His fingers shifted.
Not restraining anymore—
Feeling.
Testing.
As though confirming something that refused to make sense.
"Is that courage..." he leaned closer, his breath brushing against Elian's skin,
"...or ignorance?"
Elian swallowed.
But he did not look away.
"Does it matter?" he shot back, his voice steady despite the way his pulse betrayed him.
"To a man who hides behind power?"
A flicker.
There—
Gone.
Lucien's eyes darkened.
Something sharp.
Something… alive.
His hand moved—
Fast.
And then stopped.
Just short of Elian's throat.
The air between them tightened.
"...Careful, young Morel," Lucien said softly.
"You mistake restraint..."
His fingers slowly curled into his palm instead.
"...for mercy."
Elian scoffed, holding Lucien's gaze with his intense one.
"I don't fear you, Your Grace," Elian whispered.
Lucien's eyes narrowed.
He should have Elian punished immensely for such blatant disrespect.
He should make him cower to show power.
Yet...
He stood there...
Gazing down at the common man who had proved to be more stubborn than a bull.
He couldn't tell what put him off more: Elian's defiance... or that flawless face staring right back at him with hate.
"You're either brave..." Lucien's hand cupped Elian's delicate chin, his thumb unconsciously feeling the smooth skin underneath, "or stupid." He leaned in, his eyes moving all over Elian's face.
"Unhand me, Your Grace," Elian whispered, his voice losing its volume as Lucien's warm breath fanned his nose, almost his lips.
"Or what, young Morel? You'll hypnotize me?" Lucien murmured, gently tilting Elian's face higher. "Tell me what you are, young Morel—"
"Your nemesis," Elian jerked his face away from Lucien, gritting his teeth.
His heart was hammering, his bones suddenly feeling like they could no longer carry his weight.
What was happening?
Was Lucien using some magic on him?
"My nemesis..." Lucien repeated huskily.
Elian gulped, shutting his eyes tightly to keep himself from losing control and repeating what he'd done to Simon.
Lucien lifted his hand, almost touching Elian's waist.
"My love," Rowena's soft voice rang through the tense atmosphere.
Like he'd been burned, Lucien stepped away, glaring at Elian as if he was the cause of his momentary loss of stability.
'What was that?' he thought.
He glanced at Elian one last time, noting how tense his body was.
Rowena's gentle footsteps echoed across the dining hall.
Without waiting for her to approach them, Lucien turned away from Elian.
"Good morning, Princess," Lucien met her halfway and kissed the back of her hand.
"I had breakfast alone, my love," Rowena murmured.
Behind them, Elian finally lifted his head, curious to see what those two were up to.
The first thing his eyes caught was Lucien's hand on Rowena's waist.
Something twisted in his chest.
His eyes sharpened as he lifted his gaze to their faces.
Rowena was sulking, her beautiful brows pinching slightly.
While Lucien looked calm, his emotions controlled, as always.
"I am an early riser, Princess. I'd hate for you to miss your beauty sleep just to have a meal with me," Lucien reasoned.
Rowena smiled. "You're too considerate, Lucien. Come, I have news," she said and headed to one of the chairs around the table.
Lucien was about to follow her when he saw Elian's figure slowly moving further into the darker corner.
"Morel," he called coldly, throwing a sharp gaze at Elian.
Elian muttered under his breath and paused mid-step.
'Not young Morel?' Elian thought as he straightened.
"Your Grace," Elian's voice was barely over a whisper, his eyes avoiding Lucien.
"Come here," Lucien ordered.
Elian huffed quietly and started to move toward Lucien.
"It is him, the boy from yesterday... the bleeding boy," Rowena identified, staring at Elian.
"It is," Lucien said, eyes never leaving Elian.
"I'm here," Elian spoke softly, finally looking up at Lucien.
Once more, that soul-gripping tension from earlier returned, and this time, Elian glanced away due to the way his heart suddenly shuddered.
It was intense, scary, forbidden, yet... warm?
No.
It was absolutely nothing!
"You're not dismissed," Lucien's voice came out rougher than he expected.
He walked away and sat back in his chair.
"You said you brought news, Princess?" Lucien questioned, his lips lifting into a gentle smile.
'Off,' Elian noted.
Rowena looked away from Elian, smiling beautifully.
"It's Father. He wrote to me..." She paused, reaching for something at her side in quiet excitement.
"Here," she pushed a neatly folded yellow paper across to Lucien.
"What's in here, Princess? I dare not open it; your father clearly sent it to you," he said, glancing once at the paper before his gaze moved to Elian beside the table.
Rowena nodded once and reached for the folded paper.
"I shall tell you, then..." She smiled secretly.
"They..." She paused, glancing at Elian. "You may leave, servant," she said dismissively.
Elian harshly bit into his lower lip.
Talking back at the Princess would be instant treason; if not... he would have schooled her on the difference between a hostage and a servant.
Without a word, he moved.
"You're not dismissed, young Morel," Lucien's tone sounded way too relaxed for the rigid atmosphere between the three of them.
Elian paused, digging his nails into his palms.
A noble's plaything....
That's what he'd become.
"Why, Lucien? He's not to be here and listen," she told him, her voice firm.
Lucien nodded. "He's my... hostage. He goes where I say. Right now, that is here," he stated gently.
Rowena chuckled. "You called him Morel? Is he the son of the man—"
"Yes... he is," Lucien subtly intercepted.
"Now you know why I need him close. He needs to be watched," he looked at Elian, his eyes hardening when he saw the vengeful look written all over Elian's face.
He always knew there was something interesting about Elian.
He just didn't know it would be that interesting.