Lucian woke up with a headache so violent it felt personal.
For a few seconds, he stayed still, staring at the ceiling with half-open eyes while the morning light pushed through the curtains. His throat felt dry. His body felt heavy. And somewhere in the distance, palace servants were already moving around like annoying little ghosts starting another miserable day.
He slowly sat up. Hmm... bad idea.
Pain slammed into his skull immediately.
"Damn," he muttered, pressing a hand against his forehead.
The memory returned almost instantly, The corridor. The whistle. The arrow.
Lucian's expression slowly darkened.
So it wasn't a joke after all.
Someone genuinely wanted him dead.
He swung his legs over the bed and stood carefully. The room was quiet except for the faint crackling of the fireplace. His robe hung loosely over his shoulders as he walked toward the tall window nearby.
Outside, the palace looked peaceful.
