Morning sunlight spilled through the tall windows of the Ashthorn manor, cutting across the patterned marble like threads of gold. The house was already awake, the clang of training in the distance, the low hum of servants beginning their day, but in Lucian's study, silence still reigned.
That silence shattered the moment Elinor burst through the door.
"Luci!" she sang, curls bouncing like sunlight itself. "We have to go back to the market!"
Lucian looked up from a pile of ledgers, the corners of his eyes shadowed by sleeplessness. "The market?"
"For ribbons," she said solemnly. "My bird needs a crown. It's his coronation day."
He blinked once, then leaned back in his chair with theatrical gravity. "Naturally. And if the kingdom of stuffed toys goes uncrowned, civilization will fall."
Kaelric's voice drifted from the hall. "You might as well go, brother. She's been planning this since dawn."
Serenya followed, book in hand, her tone cool as morning glass. "It's sound diplomacy. Better to lose coins than endure her sulking."
Lucian sighed, defeated by democracy. "Fine. But the royal treasury is closed after this purchase."
Elinor cheered, already pulling him toward the door.
The streets of Veyra Square gleamed beneath the late-morning sun. Merchants sang, hawking silks, spices, and ribbons in every shade imaginable. Lucian walked with his coat open, collar loose, one hand resting lightly on Elinor's shoulder to keep her from vanishing into the crowd.
Whispers chased them through the square, about the duel, the "powerless Ashthorn," the spectacle he'd caused. Lucian's red eyes flicked toward the gossipers once, then away again, unreadable.
Elinor tugged him toward a stall hung with ribbons that fluttered like captured rainbows.
"These!" she declared. "He needs these!"
Lucian eyed the sign: Imported from Veyra.
"How imported?" he asked the merchant, tone mild.
"Fresh off the caravans, my lord," the man said. "Three silvers a yard."
Lucian gave him a slow, pitying look. "Three silvers? For half-dyed satin that frays under sunlight? You could swaddle a goat in it, but not a crown."
The merchant stammered. "Two, then?"
"One," Lucian said.
Elinor leaned forward, whispering, "Two and a sweet, Luci."
He exhaled like a condemned man. "Two and a sweet," he agreed.
The merchant nearly kissed his boots.
Lucian paid without complaint, even threw in an extra copper for the sweet Elinor had negotiated. "You'll bankrupt me," he murmured, handing her the ribbons.
"I'll make you famous," she replied, twirling them like victory flags.
The crowd shifted, murmurs rippling. A gleaming carriage pulled up beside the fountain, marked with a silver rose—House Veyra.
Lysette stepped down, emerald silk glinting like frost in sunlight. Her poise turned heads, her calm cut conversation short. Even the pigeons seemed to hush.
Lucian's smile arrived before his words. "Lady Veyra," he greeted, bowing with mock elegance. "Veyra Square seems determined to live up to its name."
Her eyes, sharp and pale as winter air, found him instantly. "You're certainly ensuring that, my lord. I hear you've turned our market into a theater."
"I go where my promises lead me," Lucian said lightly.
Elinor raised her hand. "That's me! I'm the promise!"
For a heartbeat, Lysette's lips almost curved. "So I see."
A young vendor girl, perhaps fourteen, darted from her stall nearby. "Lord Lucian!" she cried, beaming. "You helped Father with the guild dispute! We're so grateful!"
Lucian blinked, surprised, then smiled. "Ah, the dispute. I merely pointed out arithmetic, not heroics."
The girl giggled, handing Elinor a pale blue ribbon. "For the princess!"
"Thank you!" Elinor chirped.
Lysette's jaw tightened. "You have a talent for collecting admirers, Lord Ashthorn."
Lucian bowed slightly. "Occupational hazard."
Her voice cooled further. "Your occupations seem unusually diverse."
"Multitasking," he said. "I hear it's fashionable."
Elinor watched them with the innocent fascination of someone watching a storm. "You two talk funny," she announced.
Lysette's composure cracked for just a breath, then steadied. "Do we?"
"Uh-huh." Elinor pointed at Lucian. "You sound like you're in trouble. And you," she turned to Lysette, "sound like Mama when she's pretending not to be mad at Papa."
Lucian coughed into his glove. Lysette's throat tightened, then she bent down, smooth as ever, and tied a ribbon into Elinor's curls—a pristine white with silver thread.
"This suits you better than any crown," she said softly.
Elinor lit up, hugging her without hesitation. "See, Luci? She likes you after all!"
Lucian gave a small, indulgent smile. "Astonishing, isn't it?"
Lysette rose, composure back in place. "Perhaps your brother mistakes courtesy for affection," she said, almost to herself, and turned toward her carriage.
Elinor waved frantically. "Bye, Lady Lysette! I'll wear your ribbon forever!"
Lysette paused mid-step and looked back, just for a second. Her eyes softened, then shuttered again. "Take care, Lord Ashthorn," she said. "Try not to start another festival."
Her carriage rolled away, leaving behind the faint perfume of cold roses.
Elinor twirled the white ribbon, grinning up at him. "Wasn't she nice after all?"
Lucian's eyes followed the ribbon's shimmer as it caught the light. "Nice?" he murmured. "Maybe. But every ribbon has its price."
Elinor blinked. "You paid two silvers!"
He smiled faintly. "Not the one I meant."
The market resumed its roar. Lucian stood for a moment, watching the ripples vanish into noise. Elinor skipped beside him, ribbons flashing in the sun.
"All this for silk," he said, half to himself.
"It's pretty silk," Elinor replied, proud. "And it makes you smile."
He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "That might be the most expensive smile in Veyra."
By the time they returned home, Kaelric and Serenya were waiting.
"So," Kaelric said, leaning against the banister, "did the Cold Rose thaw?"
Lucian set his coat aside. "Barely. I suspect she's resistant to heat."
Serenya smirked faintly. "You say that like you've tested the temperature."
Elinor burst in between them, waving her new ribbon. "Look! Lady Lysette gave me this! She and Luci are friends now!"
Kaelric made a face. "How much did that treaty cost you?"
Lucian dropped into a chair with a weary grace. "Everything worth buying."
Serenya closed her book, voice soft but certain. "Some debts aren't measured in coin."
Lucian looked at her, then away, a small smile curving his lips as if the words amused him more than they should.
Later that night, when the manor quieted, Elinor's laughter still lingered faintly in the halls. Lucian paused outside her door, hearing her hum to herself, and let the sound settle something deep inside him.
Love, he thought distantly, was a language he hadn't learned, one more secret he didn't know he was keeping.