Back at Lucian chambers, the memory of the encounters he had with Alaric and Alistair lingered like the aftertaste of an unfamiliar wine bitter, sharp, and laced with something that burned in the throat.
That day, their exchange had been anything but annoying. Meeting Alaric in the southern wings and pretending to be into him, Alistair on the other hand, sending a spy on him as if he owned him a debt and he was planning to run away with it
Lucian had simply try to manoeuvre his way into their inner safe, weighed the tension like one might measure the distance between two blades, and chosen silence. Sometimes the most dangerous move was no move at all.
That moment came and went.
Days passed and in their passing, a different absence began to make itself known.
Sebathine.
Lucian realized slowly at first, then all at once that he hadn't seen the Grand General since the night of the induction. Not at the morning council, not at the archery fields, not even in the quiet corners where military men often sought refuge from courtly noise. He had expected at least a fleeting encounter, a passing glance in the corridors. But nothing.
It was strange, and strange in the palace was never harmless.
He sat by the tall window of his chambers that evening, the sky outside deepening into bruised indigo. His mind flicked back to what he knew of Sebathine, the man was not the sort to disappear without purpose. If he had been called away to the warfront, there would have been murmurs in the palace corridors, the kind of news that trickled into even the servants' gossip. Yet there was nothing. Silence, and that made it worse.
Lucian tapped his finger against the arm of his chair.
If there was one thing he had learned since waking in this world, it was that keeping close to the key players was a matter of survival. And Sebathine was one of them. His protection was not just an advantage, it was a necessity. If the Grand General had left, Lucian needed to know. If he was still here, hiding in the shadows of the palace… that raised even more questions.
Then suddenly a knock sounded at the door.
Lucian was angered by the knock that disrupted his thought. Wrong timing. "Come in."
Erin entered, carrying a folded tunic over his arm. The boy's steps were quick but careful, his head bowed just enough to be polite without seeming afraid.
"Your bath is ready, my lord?" he asked, setting the tunic on the low table.
"Okay" Lucian's gaze held him for a moment and his angered expression turned into a mischievous grin. "I need something… and I trust you to find it for me." He gestured to the chair. "Sit."
Erin hesitated. "Is it urgent?"
Lucian smiled faintly. "It's not a task you can fetch from the laundry or the kitchens. I've been wondering have you seen General Sebathine of late? I can't recall crossing paths with him for… some time now."
The question caught Erin off guard; his brows lifted slightly. "General Sebathine? He's been in the palace."
Lucian tilted his head, masking the sharp flicker of interest in his chest. "In the palace? And yet, I've seen neither hide nor hair of him. Curious."
"He doesn't attend the gatherings much," Erin said. "But… at night, he stays near the eastern wing."
Lucian's eyes narrowed, though his tone stayed light. "The eastern wing?"
"Yes, my lord. The old barracks section converted to private quarters years ago. It's quiet there."
Erin's voice softened, as if suddenly aware that perhaps he was saying more than he should. "Why do you ask?"
Lucian gave a lazy shrug, as if the answer were too inconsequential to hide. "Call it concern for an absent friend. You've been most helpful, Erin. Thank you."
Erin stood, bowing quickly. "Shall I have a servant escort you there?"
"That won't be necessary." Lucian waved him off with a smile. "I know the way."
After the boy left, Lucian rose from his chair, smoothing his sleeves.
The eastern wing.
Of course. He had been there once before during the period he was looking around and trying to know the palace walls. It was dim corridors and the faint scent of oil from the training yard. It was far from the main body of the palace, almost secluded. The perfect place for a man who didn't want to be found.
He made his way there under the guise of a leisurely walk, eyes flicking over every turn, every empty hall. The further east he went, the quieter it became. No courtly chatter. No clinking of goblets or murmurs of servants. Just the faint hum of the wind through narrow windows.
He reached the corridor he remembered, its walls lined with aging tapestries of old battles. He slowed his pace deliberately, scanning the shadows.
And then
"Why are you harboring around the palace?"
The voice came from behind him low, steady, with the kind of weight that made the air seem thicker. Lucian turned, and there he was. Sebathine. Standing only a few paces away, broad-shouldered, his dark hair shadowing eyes that looked far too sharp for the dim light.
Lucian let his smile bloom slowly, like a cat pretending it hadn't been caught. "General. Didn't expect you to be in this kind of place."
Sebathine's gaze didn't waver. "You haven't answered my question, why are you here and what are you planning.?"
Lucian's brow lifted. "Plan? Must I always be plotting something?"
"You're not here by accident," Sebathine said. His steps closed the distance between them not rushed, but certain. "You move with intention, Lucian Throne. Always."
Lucian leaned against the wall, feigning ease though his heart quickened at the intensity in the man's eyes. "And if I told you I simply came here to relax, would you believe me or what if I came here simply because I missed you, my dear general.?"
Sebathine's expression didn't change, but his hand moved quick, decisive and the next moment, Lucian found himself pinned against the wall. One arm braced beside his head, the other holding his shoulder with just enough force to make the position inescapable. Not painful. But firm.
"You think I don't see what you're doing?" Sebathine's voice was quiet, but each word landed like a hammer. "You're now weaving yourself between the crown prince, his brother, and me. That's no accident."
Lucian's smile didn't falter, but inside, he noted the way Sebathine's grip betrayed something control, yes, but also restraint. "You sound as though you mind."
"I mind not knowing why."
Lucian's eyes traced the line of Sebathine's jaw, lingering for a heartbeat too long. "Perhaps I simply enjoy… being near the ones who matter."
Sebathine didn't release him. "Or perhaps you're plotting something huge around us."
Lucian's lips curved higher. "If I were, would you let me?"
Sebathine's eyes searched his for a long moment, silent, heavy with unspoken thought."Stay out of places you don't belong, tutor," he said.