Lucian found himself pulled into the middle of a commotion he would normally avoid, held there only by Serena's insistence. Many times he had watched crowds dance in the plaza, yet he had never cared to join. His mother had always dismissed such revelry as a useless indulgence.
The air carried the restless chill of a season on the brink of winter. Lantern smoke mingled with the scent of mulled wine and damp stone beneath their feet. Laughter rose in warm bursts, only to fade quickly into the sharpening night. The crowd pressed close, breath faintly visible in the golden glow of the lanterns.
Through the fading haze of wine, he watched Serena clap and sing along. He wasn't sure if the noise truly washed away his sorrow, but he couldn't deny the distraction.
A burst of laughter rose from somewhere within the crowd as a pair of drunken men stumbled past the fountain.
One of them lurched sideways, his shoulder knocking roughly against Serena as he pushed through.
Caught off guard, Serena lost her footing on the damp stone. The world seemed to tilt briefly before Lucian pulled her back with effortless strength, pinning her against his chest.
Serena froze, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm that he must have felt through his clothes.
When she'd first seen him, she had dismissed him as a boy with nothing more than a pretty face. Looking at him now, there was nothing boyish about the strength in his grip.
Lucian's brows drew together slightly as he looked down at her.
"Careful," he said.
Serena blinked, suddenly aware of how close they stood. Her hand had instinctively caught the front of his cloak to steady herself.
For a brief moment neither of them moved.
The lanternlight flickered across his face, and Serena found herself studying him more closely than before.
Up close, he no longer seemed quite so young.
Lucian released her once he was certain she had regained her balance.
Without another word, he unfastened his cloak, spread the thick fabric over the damp stone ledge of the fountain and gently guided her to sit.
Then he settled beside her. The night breeze brushed cool against his face, and the haze of wine that had clouded his thoughts slowly began to thin. With it, the tightness in his chest eased in a way he had not expected. He found himself breathing more steadily.
As the musicians transitioned into a new ballad, a slow haunting melody seemed to pull the warmth right out of the air.
The laughter in Serena's eyes slowly faded. Her fingers stilled in her lap.
Only then did Lucian turn his head toward the performers.
He wanted to know what kind of song could break the spirit of the girl who had just spent the last hour trying to mend his.
At the center of the gathered performers stood a lone singer, a worn lute resting against his chest. His fingers moved gently across the strings as the plaza began to quiet.
Those who recognized the melody fell silent first.
An old ballad.
One that travelers had carried from town to town for years.
A murmur passed through the listeners.
"Ah… that sorrowful one again."
"They say it was a merchant's daughter," someone whispered.
"Betrayed by a nobleman," another voice replied grimly.
An old man near the fountain shook his head.
"I remember when this song first began to travel," he murmured.
The lanterns hanging around the square flickered in the cold wind, casting long shadows across the gathered crowd as the song began.
You swore beneath the moonlit sky,
"I'll love thee till I die."
Yet when I cried in darkest hour,
You were not by my side!
Oh... You were not by my side.
How foolish I was to believe your lies...
The lively rhythm faded, replaced by a slow, haunting melody. Even the wind seemed to quiet as the first mournful notes drifted across the plaza.
What did your absence cost?
Two lives... both lost!
My child and honor bled that night,
While you rode home with your noble bride.
I waited long in vain
You were not once in sight!
Not once!
Now I shall claim my weary breath,
For there is nothing left to survive.
I pray that heaven grants me mercy
If souls should wander past this life,
May mine forget you on the other side!
The last note of the lute lingered before fading into silence.
For a moment, the entire plaza remained still, as though no one wished to be the first to disturb the sorrow the song had left behind.
Then the murmurs returned.
"A cruel fate."
"Or a cruel man."
"Either way," someone muttered, "the girl paid the price."
A few listeners stepped forward to drop copper coins into the singer's worn cap.
Beside Lucian, Serena let out a quiet sigh.
Lucian noticed it immediately. His gaze shifted from the singer back to her.
He glanced at her.
"Does the song trouble you?"
Serena gave a small nod, her gaze still resting on the singer.
"A little."
"I simply do not understand," she murmured after a moment. "Why make a promise one cannot keep?"
"Is the tale true, then?"
"Yes," Serena replied softly. "More true than most would like to admit. There are many women in this world who have lost their honor… even their lives… because of men who spoke beautiful words they never intended to keep."
Lucian was silent for a moment.
Then he said calmly,
"Perhaps the fault does not lie with promises alone."
Serena glanced at him.
"What do you mean?"
He rested his arm along the stone edge of the fountain, his gaze steady.
"Trust, when given blindly, can be as dangerous as deceit."
Serena stared at him for a moment as dancers spun past the fountain.
Then she laughed softly.
"You sound exactly like a friend of mine."
Lucian raised an eyebrow.
"A man?"
"No," Serena said with a smile. "A woman. Though she trusts her mind far more than her heart."
Lucian tilted his head slightly. "And is that not the wiser way?"
"That depends," Serena said thoughtfully.
"The heart may lead us astray at times… but ignoring it completely is no better. A person should learn to make use of both... heart and mind."
Lucian watched her for a moment before asking quietly.
"And you? If a man swore such promises to you… would you believe him simply because you loved him?"
Serena fell silent, considering the question.
Then she smiled faintly.
"I believe I would."
Lucian looked surprised. "Why?"
Serena's gaze drifted toward the lanterns swaying in the evening breeze.
"Because I trust my own judgment," she said.
Lucian watched her more closely now, though his expression remained calm.
"If I were ever to love someone," Serena continued, "it would only be after I had judged his character well."
Her smile softened.
"And if I chose him… then he would surely be a man worthy of trust."
Lucian studied her quietly.
Such faith, he thought. The world rarely rewarded it.
"Then I hope such a man proves worthy of your faith."
While the music played and the plaza pulsed with life, Serena and Lucian were momentarily lost in the crowd.
Lucian's breath hitched as he spotted his knight approaching. He immediately stood and moved toward Kaelen, putting several paces between himself and the fountain to lead the knight away from Serena. He positioned his body carefully, attempting to shield her from view with his back.
"Your Highness!" Kaelen called, relief and sternness mingling in his voice. "Where have you been? Her Majesty is beside herself. We have searched the city for hours."
Lucian forced his voice to remain calm. "I was merely walking, Kaelen. The air on the bridge was… stifling."
He glanced back briefly before fixing his gaze on the knight. "Wait for me at the edge of the plaza. I left my cloak over by the fountain; I'll go retrieve it and join you shortly."
He dismissed the knight with a sharp nod. Once Kaelen had turned and begun walking away, Lucian rushed back toward the fountain, his heart racing for a reason he couldn't quite name.
But as he approached the stone ledge, he stopped short.
Serena was already several paces away, moving into the thick of the crowd. She wasn't alone.
A tall man had his arm draped protectively around her shoulders, guiding her through the press of people with practiced ease. Lucian couldn't see the man's face, but he saw the way she leaned on him. They moved with the easy familiarity of people long accustomed to one another.
His gaze dropped to the fountain ledge where she had been sitting. His cloak was still there, but resting atop the dark fabric was a small silk ribbon, pale lavender in the lantern light. She must have dropped it in her haste to leave.
Lucian picked it up slowly, the silk soft against his palm. He looked back toward the crowd, but the pair had already vanished into the shifting sea of faces.
"I did not even ask your name," he whispered to the empty space.
He folded the ribbon carefully and tucked it into his tunic, then gathered his cloak. With one last glance toward the street where she had disappeared, he turned and began the long walk back toward his knight.
On the other side of the square, Serena struggled to keep pace as they wove through the dwindling dancers.
"Hurry, my lady," Sir Eric urged, his hand firm on her shoulder as he steered her toward the merchant district. "Lady Lethia will scold you and likely skin me if we are any later than this."
Serena nodded absently. "I know, Eric. I'm coming."
She followed his lead, but as they reached the mouth of the narrow cobblestone street, she couldn't resist. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder one last time.
The plaza was a blur of shifting gold and deep shadows. She searched for the man who had caught her fall. But the crowd was too thick, and the lanterns were flickering out.
With one last lingering glance, Serena let the plaza slip from view as Eric guided her around the corner.
The music faded behind them, swallowed by the narrow streets.