When Lyra heard his question, she turned to him slowly.
His eyes looked sad.
His fingers tapped lightly against the teacup, restless, unsure.
She frowned slightly.
Why is he asking me this?
They had never spoken like this before.
In the past, they simply lived around each other, not with each other.
She never expected love from him.
All she had wanted was basic respect.
A husband who did not embarrass her in public.
Someone who could at least acknowledge her family.
But even that had failed.
After their wedding, her mother had tried to include him in family gatherings.
She had introduced him proudly, tried to make him feel welcome.
But Lucien always stayed distant.
He stayed on his phone, uninterested in conversations.
He spoke rudely to guests.
He never made an effort.
Eventually, even her mother stopped trying.
It became clear he had no intention of fitting in.
He liked parties, late nights, careless friends, and chaotic living.
He came home in the morning more than once.
He doubted her constantly.
Picked fights over nothing.
Pushed every boundary she had.
She had tolerated it all.
Until she could not anymore.
When she asked for a divorce, he threatened to kill himself.
That was when everything crossed the line.
And now, sitting here, he was asking if she hated him enough to let him die.
Lyra stayed silent for a moment.
Then she spoke, her voice steady but quieter than usual.
"Lucien… I am not that kind of person."
"I would not ignore you if you died."
"You are my husband, even if things between us were never good. I never treated you badly, did I?"
She paused briefly.
"I married you because of my grandfather. That part was not about love. And maybe I was wrong for not being able to love you."
"That is why I kept my distance. I did not want to give you false hope."
"But you always did things I could not accept. Things that only made everything worse."
Her fingers tightened slightly on her cup.
"Our relationship broke down, but I never hated you."
"I did not visit you in the hospital because I knew I could not fix anything. That was the part I hated most about myself."
"I failed as your wife."
Her voice lowered.
"You almost died, Lucien… and I kept thinking it was because of me."
"That is why I wanted a divorce. Not because I hated you, but because I wanted you to be free from me."
Silence followed.
Lucien did not speak.
His face remained still at first, but something in his eyes shifted.
Then his expression tightened.
He closed his eyes.
Not to block her out.
But to hold himself together.
His chest rose unevenly.
All those memories, all that pain, it came back at once.
Not just his own life.
But the feeling of being unwanted.
Of being blamed.
Of losing the only person who ever stood by him.
Evelyn.
The palace.
Syran's smile.
Anna's eyes.
It all blended into one heavy weight.
His breath shook.
A tear slipped down his cheek.
Then another.
He did not wipe them.
He just sat there, silent, breaking in place.
Lyra watched him, her heart tightening.
She had not expected this reaction.
She thought he did not care.
She thought he had moved on from everything.
But she was wrong.
Completely wrong.
Her voice softened.
"Lucien…"
But he raised a hand slightly, stopping her.
And then he spoke.
"I am sorry."
His voice was low.
Rough.
Trembling.
"If I behaved badly before… I am sorry."
"I do not remember it clearly, but I believe you. I must have caused you pain."
"I will not repeat it."
A pause.
Then he continued, slower.
"For the next six months… I will not trouble you."
"If I leave, I will leave quietly."
"I just… need time."
"I do not have anywhere else to go."
His voice dropped further.
"And I do not want to create more problems for you."
From the corner, David stiffened, realizing he had been the one to explain too much earlier.
Lyra shot him a sharp look.
He immediately stepped back and disappeared.
When she looked back at Lucien, her expression had changed.
The anger was gone.
So was the sharpness.
All that remained was something quieter.
Something uncertain.
She stood up without thinking.
Walked toward him.
Lucien looked up slightly, startled.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Lyra reached out.
She placed her hand on his face.
Gentle.
Careful.
And before he could react, she kissed him.
It was not soft hesitation.
It was direct.
Real.
Lucien froze completely.
His eyes widened in shock.
For a second, his mind stopped working.
Then instinct kicked in and he tried to pull away, confused, overwhelmed, unsure.
But Lyra held him in place.
Not forcefully.
Just enough to keep him there.
The kiss deepened.
Not because of control.
But because neither of them backed away.
When they finally separated, both were breathing harder than before.
Lucien looked completely dazed.
Flushed.
Lost.
Like he did not know where he was supposed to be anymore.
Lyra watched him quietly.
Her eyes were softer now.
Almost unreadable.
Then Lucien suddenly stood.
Without a word.
And walked away upstairs.
Fast.
Almost escaping.
Lyra exhaled slowly.
Then she touched her lips lightly, a faint smile forming.
"So this is what you are now," she murmured.
Not the old Lucien.
Not the man she used to fight with.
Something else entirely.
Something she could not easily understand.
And for the first time, she was not sure if she wanted to.