Elian stood in the middle of his room as Lucien walked away.
He didn't understand his purpose.
Why had he been kept here?
He understood the Duke's logic: keeping him close to manipulate his powers and hide him from the council. But did he have to put Elian in his chambers?
"Your Grace," Elian called as Lucien was about to open the door.
Lucien paused, not turning. But his stance already told Elian that he had stopped for him.
Elian cleared his throat, taking a step toward Lucien.
"Um... I wanted to ask..." Elian paused behind Lucien, biting his lip. "Why have you brought me here?" he questioned slowly, hoping he didn't get in trouble for asking too much.
Lucien stared at the wall, a frown creasing his forehead.
"This is where I want you to be. This is where you shall always stay—"
"No..." Elian blurted, chewing the inside of his lip as he took a step backward, his fingers curling into his palm.
There, he'd done it. Provoked the devil that was almost leaving.
Slowly, Lucien turned, surprising Elian by how calm his face looked. Elian was expecting his usual darkened look, but somehow, that calmness unsettled him more.
"You are where I want you to be. There is no changing that—"
"No! I prefer the stables!" Elian snapped, heaving.
The whole royalty room was messing with his head. He was scared. Scared of letting the environment change him into what he dreaded... one of the royals. He didn't want to get comfortable here. He didn't want to forget his purpose.
Lucien stretched his hand in front of him, watching Elian with steady eyes.
Swallowing hard, Elian lifted his hand. He knew what was expected of him, and he didn't want to make a scene this time. Slowly, he lifted his hand and placed it in Lucien's gloved hand, gasping very softly as Lucien closed his large hand around his.
Gently, Lucien pulled Elian closer until he stood in front of him... toe to toe.
"You stay here now, young Morel. With me... do you understand?" Lucien asked, his voice unsettlingly soft.
Elian gulped. "I... I don't want to be close to you. I hate you. Send me back to the dunge—ah..." he grunted as Lucien's hand suddenly gripped the life out of him.
Lucien roughly pulled Elian closer and leaned down to his ear.
"Listen carefully, young Morel. It seems you want your condition spelled out for you..." He slowly took Elian's hand—the one he was holding—to Elian's back, joining his other hand there to cage Elian's wrists behind him.
Elian grunted as his back arched, his arms straining.
"You're hurting me again..." Elian breathed.
But Lucien didn't let him up. His hold tightened and he breathed down Elian's neck.
"A gentle reminder, young Morel. Your disobedience shall be punished... but not on you. I need you in one piece. Edgar would be more than willing to visit your—"
"No, not my mother. I'm sorry for questioning. I'll be good, I promise," Elian murmured, lowering his face.
Lucien smirked. "Good is to be determined by me. Your manners are lacking; cutting a Duke off midspeech is the highest form of disrespect." He released Elian's wrists and hooked a finger under his jaw.
"Do it again and she will be punished. Understand?" Lucien smiled—cold, calculated.
Elian nodded. "I understand," he muttered quietly.
"Then..." Lucien's eyes trailed Elian's hair, noting how some curly strands tangled together, interfering with their usual sensual bounce.
He clenched his jaw and forced his eyes to focus on Elian's face. "No more words of you leaving... ever," he stated coldly.
Elian wanted to nod and get Lucien off him. He wanted to agree and just move to whatever phase waited for him. But he found himself asking, "Won't it be a scandal? Keeping a traitor close to you... people will talk," he whispered.
Lucien smirked, his thumb slowly grazing along Elian's jaw. "Then it shall be my scandal, young Morel..." he murmured, leaning in until their noses almost brushed. "Never question my actions," he whispered and moved away from Elian, leaving before they started another baseless conversation that would lead to that unwanted proximity.
Ms. Beck was standing in the hallway, bowing her head as soon as Lucien walked out of the door.
"Put his hair in order," he ordered, striding into his chamber without looking at the woman.
Inside his room, Lucien paused in front of the door and shut his eyes.
All he saw was Elian. Brown, soft curls; ocean-blue eyes; his defiant face... and that body that shouldn't belong to a man.
He snapped his eyes open and glared at their adjoining wall, a hard frown sitting on his face. Gritting his teeth, he walked over to his window—the particular one he'd watched Elian get dragged to the stables from on that stormy night.
He suddenly realized that nothing was going according to his plan. He was no longer in control of events. His plan was simple: take Elian out of the dungeon, punish him until he confesses why his father tried to kill him, and also list the accomplices.
But Elian was now in his chambers... and Elian was the Truth Seeker. The whole storyline had been rewritten in the blink of an eye.
Still, everything was working in his favour... except for just one tiny trouble he was beginning to have.
Elian.
"Damn it," Lucien cursed and turned away from the window, staring at the book he'd left open on his bed.
A thought came to his mind, but he punched it away immediately. But after some time, it resurfaced. He picked up the book, running his fingers over the thick spine. Slowly, almost as if he had no control over his body anymore, he started to walk toward the door.
Again, he met Ms. Beck coming out of Elian's room.
"His hair is done, Your Grace. Dinner will be ready soon," she bowed and left.
Lucien stood in front of Elian's door for a few seconds, questioning himself.