Elian felt it.
Strong.
Deep.
Penetrating.
He shifted his weight uncomfortably, wishing he could just disappear somewhere Lucien would never set eyes on him again.
"If you are sure he won't spread news outside the walls..." Rowena murmured.
"He won't... I have something of his which he values dearly," Lucien smiled calculatedly.
'Just wait, Mr. Duke. It'll be so worth it when I'm done exonerating my family.' Elian balled his fists.
Rowena softly cleared her throat. "Well, then..." She glanced at Elian one last time before continuing.
"My father has word from the Seer... a Truth Seeker is close by. It won't be long before our kingdom is blessed with one. Do you know what that means?" Rowena asked with enthusiasm, lacing her slender fingers together.
Silence.
Lucien went completely silent.
Not just him... Elian, too.
'Impossible,' Elian thought, his eyes watching Rowena carefully to see if she was jesting.
"How close?" Lucien questioned lowly.
Elian gulped, taking a tiny step backward.
Rowena blinked slowly.
"You know the Seer; she never gives precise news. She said the Truth Seeker is nearby. Our kingdom is about to become more powerful, my love," she smiled, lifting her hand to touch Lucien's jaw.
Very gently, Lucien caught Rowena's wrist and lowered her hand.
"My cousin will visit tonight. He shall be delighted by the news," he said, standing from his chair.
"Is everything okay, my love?" Rowena stood beside Lucien, holding his hand.
Lucien's lips formed a smile. "All is well, Princess. You may go to the gardens; the flowers are blooming quite beautifully this season," he suggested, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
Rowena flushed. "Very well, my love. I will excuse you now," she said and slid out of her chair.
Rowena gave the quiet Elian an unreadable once-over before she walked out of the dining hall.
Elian suddenly released the breath he didn't know he was holding.
But he never relaxed.
Not with Lucien around.
Not while he still walked the grounds of the Duke's stone-walled castle.
"Walk," Lucien said and headed for the door without waiting.
Elian wasted no seconds in following.
Not because he wanted to obey, but because he wanted to escape the charged atmosphere in the dining hall.
He followed Lucien out of the door and found Finn standing by the side.
For a moment, he thought he saw recognition flash across Finn's eyes, but it was gone as quickly.
Lucien didn't stop; he walked down the stairs and toward his hallway.
Elian sighed and followed, immediately sensing Finn behind him.
They walked into the hallway that held Lucien's private study, and Elian slowed as he realized Lucien was leading him into the same study where they'd met the first night out of the dungeon.
"Get in," Lucien ordered as he stood by the door.
'Why?' Elian almost asked.
Slowly, he glanced at Finn behind him, then made his way to Lucien.
"Enter," Lucien said as Elian stood in front of the door instead of entering.
Elian frowned.
Lucien was leaning by the side of the door; if he slid himself in, his front might likely graze against Lucien.
He couldn't have that.
He couldn't be rubbing bodies with an enemy.
The simple sight of Lucien off-put him, let alone touching him.
Lucien sensed Elian's hesitation and clenched his jaw.
He saw the way Elian stared at the space in the doorway, like he'd been asked to cross a volcano.
He tightened his jaw and stepped in.
"Now, enter," he commanded.
It was obvious the man wanted no contact with him... as if he had a choice.
Finally, Elian stepped into the office, his eyes immediately landing on the spot where he'd fallen that night. Lucien had slapped him, and he had thought that would be the end of his pain. He never knew the devil had more in store for him.
Finn quietly pulled the door shut from the outside, locking them inside.
Lucien stood by the window, his back to Elian as he stared out onto his property, watching servants work.
Elian could not deal with the silence; the atmosphere was thick with tension and awareness.
"Young Morel," Lucien called quietly, not turning.
"Your Grace," Elian answered quietly.
"Come to me," Lucien said.
Elian stared at Lucien for a second, dissecting his tone to know if he was about to hurt him.
"Your Grace... I can hear you just fine from here," Elian replied.
He chose not to get closer.
Nothing good came out of getting close to Lucien, and he would like to look fresh for at least a few hours after washing himself.
Lucien stilled.
A blatant disobedience.
Slowly, he turned, his dark eyes finding Elian's lowered head.
To anyone, Elian would look innocent, scared even.
But Lucien knew that beneath that bowed head were eyes filled with a strange fire of determination.
Again, he should punish the bastard, but then why was he walking toward him?
Why was he suddenly ready to talk instead of acting?
Elian sensed Lucien walking toward him and clenched his jaws, readying himself for a hit.
He saw Lucien's expensive leather boots halt in front of him, his pulse starting to race like he'd been caught stealing.
"Touch me," Lucien murmured.
Elian snapped his head up, his heart slowing just for a second before it hammered like a bird in a cage.
He stared at Lucien's handsome face, forcing his brain to think of other, normal meanings for Lucien's order.
He didn't mean touch him as in touch him, right?
"Your Grace!" Elian suddenly gasped and jumped back as Lucien moved to touch him.
With his back pressed against the wall, he watched Lucien closing the distance between them.
He quickly put his hands behind him, leaning his back on them to keep Lucien from forcing him.
Lucien ignored Elian's refusal and closed the distance.
"Touch me, Elian," Lucien whispered, pressing a hand on the door close to Elian's head.
"T-touch you? I—I dare not, I—" Elian suddenly stopped talking as Lucien's gloved hand gripped his chin, forcing his face up.
The smooth, cold gloves pressed gently against his skin, increasing his pulse from a single touch.
Slowly, Lucien leaned in, his breath brushing the shell of Elian's ear.
"You do exactly whatever I ask you to do, traitor..." Lucien rasped lowly. "You belong to me; you obey me. Do you understand that, young Morel?" he asked huskily.
Elian needed Lucien far away from him. He could not understand the effect the monster was having on him.
Lucien's words should annoy him, refreshing his hatred.
It didn't.
Instead...
It sent unwanted tingles traveling down his treacherous body, planting hideous thoughts in his head.
"Lu—Your Grace... step back, please," Elian stated, but his voice lacked its usual conviction.
Lucien did not listen.
He held Elian's gaze, breath ghosting Elian's chin. "One last time, young Morel... touch me," he commanded, his eyes falling very briefly to Elian's lips.