The decor here was grander, more traditional, all dark wood and rich paints, a reflection of the weight of office her brother carried. She walked the familiar corridors, and knocked on the heavy door of his study.
"Come in."
She pushed the door open. Lucian was standing by the large window, looking out over the city, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned as she entered, and a genuine, weary smile touched his lips. He looked tired, the pressures of work etched in the new lines around his eyes.
The moment she saw that smile, some of the tension in her chest eased. This was her brother. Her Lucian.
"Lucian," she exclaimed, her happiness was really visible. She crossed the room in a few quick strides and, in a gesture that was pure instinct, she threw her arms around his neck, jumping up slightly to hug him properly.
He chuckled, a deep, warm sound was full of tenderness . He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight for a moment. "Hello, my little star."
She pulled back, beaming, and immediately linked her arm with his, leaning her head against his shoulder as she was used to. "Did you clear your schedule for today?"
He squeezed her arm affectionately. "Something like that. I realized it's been too long since I just… talked to my sister. No agendas, no third person. Just us."
Her heart swelled with love for him. This was what she needed. A reminder of who she was, where she belonged.
"I'd love that," she said, her voice soft. She led him over to the two large armchairs by the fireplace, pulling him down to sit beside her, still not letting go of his arm. "So, talk to me. How are you, really? You look tired."
He sighed, the sound heavy. "I am tired. Work load increased more and I can't spend more time with Allison again. And the reports keep piling up." He looked at her, his gaze sharpening slightly, his eyes assessing. "But enough about my troubles. How are you? Allison mentioned you had a date last night."
And just like that, her warm mind replaced by a cold trickle of anxiety. She kept her smile firmly in place though.
"I did. Daniel Blinks. He was… very nice."
Lucian raised an eyebrow. " Nice? That's the same tone you used when you were little and described the broccoli mother made you eat."
She managed a light laugh. "It's just… it was a perfectly pleasant evening. He's successful, handsome, polite. There's nothing wrong with him."
"But?" Lucian prompted, his perception, as always, unnervingly accurate.
"But… nothing," she said, looking down at their linked arms. "I suppose I just didn't feel that… spark."
"The spark can be overrated," Lucian said gently. "Sometimes, stability and respect are more valuable. But if you don't feel anything for him then don't force yourself." He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter, more serious. "I worry about you, Alexa."
"I'm fine, Lucian. Really."
"Is it?" he asked, his gaze intent. "You've been different since then. More withdrawn. And last night, according to the logs, you went to the dungeon and the guards said they passed out."
The air left her lungs. She felt the color drain from her face. She had been so careful. She had knocked out the guard, she thought… but of course, there were logs. The guard might have quickly typed her name in the visitor's list before she knocked him out.
"I…" she stammered, her mind racing for a plausible excuse. "I… I couldn't sleep. I had some questions. About Elarian next plan. I thought if I went late, he might be more… open."
Lucian's expression was unreadable for a long moment. He simply looked at her, and she felt like a specimen under a microscope. She could feel the wild beat of her heart and was terrified he could hear it.
"Alexa," he said finally, his voice low and grave. "Lysander is not a man you have 'conversations' with. He is a manipulator of the highest order. He preys on emotion. He will use any crack in your armor, any moment of weakness, to his advantage. Going to see him alone, at night, was incredibly reckless."
The reprimand, though delivered gently, stung. But it was the truth in his words that cut deeper. 'He preys on emotion. He uses any moment of weakness. Is that what the kiss was? A manipulation? A calculated move to shatter her control then help him out of the dungeon?' The thought was a fresh wave of humiliation.
"I know," she whispered, her gaze dropping to her lap. "It was stupid. It won't happen again."
He reached out with his free hand and covered hers where it rested on his arm. "I'm not angry. I'm concerned. That man… he's dangerous. He gets inside people's heads. I don't want him inside yours."
'Too late,' a traitorous voice whispered in her mind. 'He's already there. He's taken up residence.'
"He's not," she forced herself to say, meeting his eyes again. She poured every ounce of her acting skill into the lie, making her gaze steady and sincere. "I was just trying to help. To understand. But you're right. It was a mistake. I see that now."
Lucian searched her face for another long moment, and then, seemingly satisfied, he nodded. "Good." He leaned back in his chair, the tension easing from his shoulders, he knew Lysander wouldn't just stay in that cell without a plan. He just hope his plans has nothing to do with his sister or any of his loved ones because that would be the end of Lysander's life. "Now, let's change the subject to something more pleasant. Tell me about this new film project Chloe was buzzing about. The historical epic."
Grateful for the relief, Alexa started talking about the description of the script, the costumes, the director. She talked and talked, filling the space with safe words. She laughed at the right moments, she made witty observations, she was the perfect, charming sister.
As she sat there, linked arm-in-arm with her brother, the one person in the world she trusted most, she had never felt more alone. The kiss with Lysander was a barrier between them, a secret so profound it felt like a physical wall.
When their talk ended and she returned to her room, the silence was no longer just empty. It was filled with the echo of her own deception. She had lied to Allison. She had lied, directly and convincingly, to Lucian. The kiss had not just shaken her, it had begun to change her, to rewire her very morality.
That night, sleep was once again a futile pursuit. She lay in the dark, her body aching with a restless energy that felt both familiar and new.
She pressed her fingers to her own lips, trying to recreate the sensation, but it was a pale imitation. And as she stared into the darkness, a terrifying, thrilling realization dawned on her.
Lysander hadn't just kissed her to prove a point or to manipulate her.
He had kissed her because he wanted to.
And the most terrifying part of all was that, for that one, blinding moment before her mind had caught up, before the shock and the humiliation had set in… she had wanted it, too.