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Chapter 19 - Names, and the Things They Unsettle

Chapter 18: Names, and the Things They Unsettle

Lucian remained where he was long after Lyria had gone.

The hollow felt strangely altered without her.

The light still lay gently upon the lake. The reeds still whispered at its edge. The breeze still lifted the leaves in slow, idle spirals—but Lucian scarcely noticed any of it.

His gaze followed the narrow path that curved away from the water and disappeared toward the palace grounds.

She did not look back.

Not once.

Her small, slight figure moved with quiet urgency, skirts gathered just enough to keep from stumbling, the white ribbon of her mask tied firmly behind her head. In a matter of moments, she had passed beyond the trees and the low rise of the hill, swallowed by the distance between the abandoned structures and the trimmed edges of the royal estate.

Lucian frowned.

It was an expression he wore rarely.

And even more rarely for a woman.

She had smiled.

He had seen it.

Not the guarded, polite curve of the lips required of courtly exchanges. Not the restrained softness of a servant who knew when to appear agreeable.

It had been genuine.

A small, breathless thing—quick and unpractised.

And it had not been meant for him. That was what irked him more.

She had smiled at Valenridge. The same Duke who did not care for propriety. To Lucian, the Duke even looked ridiculous, especially with the stray leaves in his hair, but Lyria had smiled at the Duke like he was charming.

Lucian's jaw tightened.

There was a faint sound beside him.

Dry grass shifting beneath a careless step.

Lucian turned at last.

The Duke of Blackmere, having concluded that there was nothing more to be discussed, began walking back to the spot where he had been sleeping previously, his posture entirely unconcerned with the tension he had left behind.

Lucian watched him for a long moment.

Then—

"What, precisely," he said coolly, "do you believe you were doing?"

Valenridge glanced at him.

Amusement flickered across his face at once.

"Good morning to you as well, Aurelgrave."

Lucian's brow twitched.

"Answer the question."

The other duke hummed faintly to himself, as though considering whether the matter deserved thought at all. Then he turned properly to face Lucian.

"Since you appear to enjoy being addressed by your given name so very much," he said lightly, "how about we dispense with these tiresome formalities altogether?"

Lucian stared at him.

Valenridge continued without pause.

"After all, Valenridge is my father's name. Imagine being forced to answer to that for the rest of one's life." He shuddered theatrically. "An old name. A heavy one. Entirely unsuited to a man of my youth and delicate temperament."

Lucian scoffed.

"Your temperament is neither."

Valenridge waved the comment aside.

"I shall begin."

He smiled faintly.

"Lucian."

The name sounded oddly casual in the open air.

Lucian felt it land.

Valenridge tilted his head.

"…That truly is not so dreadful, is it?" he mused. "I begin to understand why you were harassing that fair maiden so relentlessly."

Lucian rolled his eyes.

"Valenridge—"

"Ah."

Valenridge lifted one finger.

"No."

Lucian stopped mid-sentence.

"If you insist on continuing this conversation," Valenridge said mildly, "you will call me Evander."

Lucian's mouth flattened.

"Do not be ridiculous."

Evander merely smiled.

"I have a headache, Aurelgrave… sorry, Lucian. And I would very much like to return to my nap."

Lucian glared at him. There was a beat of silence between them while Evander watched Lucian patiently, a smile on his face, as though he were enjoying what was happening.

Lucian exhaled through his nose finally.

"…Evander," he said through gritted teeth.

Evander's smile widened instantly.

"Splendid. You may proceed."

Lucian did not thank him.

He drew himself straighter, his irritation sharpening into something more focused.

"Do you know who that woman was?"

Evander considered the question with exaggerated thoughtfulness.

"No, and to be quite honest with you, I do not particularly care who she was—or who she is, rather."

Lucian's jaw tightened.

"What I care about," Evander continued calmly, "is that you were pestering her after she made it quite clear she did not wish to comply with your request."

Lucian's eyes hardened.

"You know nothing of the situation."

Evander smiled.

"Entirely possible."

Then he lifted his shoulders in an easy shrug.

"I merely interfered."

Lucian let out a short, humourless breath.

"You poked your nose where it did not belong."

Evander nodded at once.

"I did."

There was no shame in it whatsoever.

"But," he added pleasantly, "you were disturbing my rest with your incessant discussion of names and your relentless attempt to extract one from a lady who was clearly unimpressed."

Lucian turned away a fraction.

"You should mind your own affairs next time."

Evander studied him in silence.

Then, to Lucian's faint surprise, he laughed. It was a soft sound.

"I shall endeavour to do so," he said.

He took a step closer, lowering his voice just slightly.

"But allow me one small piece of advice."

Lucian did not respond.

Evander's tone remained almost kind, though Lucian knew Evander was just mocking him.

"You should truly consider taking lessons in seduction."

Lucian frowned at that.

Evander continued, unbothered.

"Because, from what I have just witnessed, you will have very little success either in charming that young woman… or in persuading her to want you."

Lucian stilled.

The breeze lifted the edges of his coat.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Evander regarded him with quiet interest and mild amusement.

Lucian's expression shut down. His mouth flattened into a hard line.

He stared at Evander.

Evander, in return, merely shook his head.

A small, knowing motion.

Lucian swallowed.

"How," he asked quietly, "would you know?"

Evander's smile returned.

"Because," he said simply, "it is painfully obvious."

He stepped back, walking towards the spot he had labelled as his own, although he was not sure he would be able to fall asleep again after what had happened.

"You have quite a great deal of work to do, Lucian—if you truly intend to convince that woman to like you, or even give you a chance," he said.

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