The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow upon Lucien's face as he stirred from his sleep. His mind, still heavy with the remnants of dreams, immediately gravitated toward the events of the previous night. Images of Blaise's persistent seduction danced through his thoughts, each moment etched vividly in his memory. He rose, and splashed his face with cold water.
He had to stop fantasizing about Blaise.
Descending the stairs, Lucien found Maisy and Troy gathered for breakfast. The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the fragrant scent of brewed coffee. The table was adorned with an array of delicacies—golden scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and a colorful fruit platter.
The atmosphere was charged with an unusual tension, though. As Lucien took his seat, he noticed Troy's furrowed brow and the creased lines of worry etched upon his face. Before he could even greet them, Troy's voice cut through the silence, his words bearing a weight that demanded attention.
"One of the horses has been attacked," Troy announced. "There are bite marks on its flank, and it has been drained of blood."
Maisy, the younger sister, spoke up, her voice trembling with unease. "No! Not our horse! Do you think Blaise might be around?" She hesitated, then glanced at Lucien.
Troy's eyes darted toward Maisy. He held up a hand to silence her, his voice low and guarded. "Maisy, not now. Let's not discuss this in front of Lucien," he urged.
Lucien observed the exchange, his mind whirling with a concoction of thoughts and suspicions. What could Blaise possibly have to do with the horse's injury? More troubling... how could Maisy have possible guessed that Blaise was there?
And if the horse was hurt by some animal, was Blaise all right? Was he injured, too? Lucien fought to keep his expression neutral.
Finishing his breakfast with haste, Lucien cleared his throat, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. "I think I'll take a walk around the property this morning," he declared, his eyes meeting those of his stepfamily. "It's a beautiful day, and I want to clear my head."
Maisy's eyes widened, her voice filled with genuine concern. "Please be careful, Lucien. We don't know what could be out there."
Lucien offered a reassuring smile, appreciating the genuine concern in Maisy's words. "I'll be cautious, I promise," he assured her. "I just need some fresh air to gather my thoughts. I'll look for any animal prints as well."
As he stepped outside, the morning sunlight embraced him, illuminating the lush greenery that surrounded the estate. The gentle breeze whispered through the trees, carrying the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the promise of a new day. Lucien's footsteps carried him along well-worn paths, but his mind was consumed by worry and anxiety.
He couldn't shake the image of Blaise's tempting advances, the magnetic pull that threatened to unravel his resolve. But now, a more pressing concern consumed his thoughts—the safety of his stepbrother.
Lucien's pace quickened. His mind conjured vivid scenarios, each more harrowing than the last—a fierce animal prowling the barn's shadows, its hunger veiled by darkness, potentially threatening Blaise's very existence.
As he neared the barn, Lucien's heart thudded against his chest, anticipation mingling with fear. The wooden doors creaked open under his touch, revealing the dimly lit interior. His eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of danger or harm. The scent of hay and the quiet rustling of animals filled the air, but there was no trace of Blaise.
"Blaise! Are you in here?" he called out, his voice echoing through the barn's cavernous space.
Nothing. Lucien's heart pounded in his ears. Either Blaise had left, or was hurt. He called out again. "Blaise! Blaise!"
Relief washed over Lucien as he finally received a response to his calls.
From a hidden nook within the barn, a groggy voice replied. "Lucien? Is that you?" Blaise's words were barely audible above the rustling of straw.
Lucien carefully made his way towards the sound. His heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of Blaise nestled in the nook, curled in a ball under the blankets Lucien had brought him. A wave of relief flooded through Lucien, washing away the lingering fear that had gripped his heart.
Kneeling down beside Blaise, Lucien reached out to brush a strand of hair away from his face, his touch gentle and tender. Blaise looked at him, revealing eyes that shimmered with a renewed vitality. He looked even more radiant than the night before, his nearly pallid skin tone replaced by a newfound liveliness and color that painted his cheeks.
"Lucien? What time is it?" He sounded sleepy.
Lucien offered a gentle smile, his eyes filled with affectionate concern. "It's morning, Blaise. I came to check on you," he replied softly, his fingers lingering against Blaise's cheek. "I was worried when I couldn't find you."
Blaise stretched his limbs, his body gradually awakening from the lingering grasp of slumber. As he sat up, Lucien couldn't help but be captivated by his ethereal beauty once more. Blaise's tousled hair cascaded around his face, framing features that seemed sculpted by an artist's hand. Yet, beneath the beauty, there was a flicker of discontent in his eyes.
"I'm surprised you were worried, considering you abandoned me last night," Blaise remarked, pouting.
Lucien's expression softened. "I didn't abandon you, Blaise. I left because you were acting out of line. We're stepbrothers now. You can't behave like that."
Blaise's red lips twisted into a small frown. "If you don't like me, just say so."
"I do like you, Blaise! I want what's best for you. I want to help you," he offered earnestly. He leaned in closer and said, "There's something else you should know. The horse had a bite mark, as if it was attacked by some wild animal."
A fleeting shadow crossed Blaise's face. "A wild animal?" he repeated, his voice betraying a tinge of unease. "That's... unexpected."
Lucien's gaze narrowed ever so slightly, a flicker of concern tugging at his thoughts. "Blaise, you didn't see or hear anything?" he inquired gently. "Do you have any idea what might have happened?"
Blaise's features tightened, his eyes darting away momentarily before returning to meet Lucien's gaze. "No, Lucien, I don't," he replied.
Lucien shrugged. Maybe Blaise slept through whatever happened. "Well, you can't stay here, not after that incident. Come, follow me. We'll go talk to Troy."
Blaise hesitated. "I'm not sure this plan will work, Lucien. My family despises me," he confessed.
Gently, Lucien reached out to grasp Blaise's hand, to reassure him. "Blaise, trust me. It's not as hopeless as it seems," he said. "Things can change, and I'm here to help mend the rift between you and your family."
Blaise's gaze wavered, torn between lingering skepticism and a glimmer of hope. "You really think so?" he finally asked.
Lucien nodded, glad Blaise was not being as difficult about this all as he had been the night before. "Yes, I do. Families can be complicated, things happen, but it doesn't mean that problems can't be mended," he explained. "I've only ever seen kindness in your mother until last night, and Troy... well, he may be stern, but I believe he cares."
Blaise's lips parted, uncertainty etched upon his face. "And if they reject me? If they refuse to let me stay?"
Lucien's grip on Blaise's hand tightened. "We won't know until we try, Blaise. You deserve a chance for reconciliation, for understanding," he declared. "But staying in the barn won't change anything. Let's go back to the house, talk to Troy, and just ask him if you can stay for a bit."
Blaise hesitated for a moment. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh. "Alright, Lucien. Let's give it a try."
Lucien and Blaise made their way back to the house, a grand Victorian structure that was built before Marie was born. The house stood tall and proud, its ornate architecture adorned with intricate details and delicate trimmings. Flowering vines crept along the trellises, adding a touch of vibrant color to the facade. The large windows, framed with elegant curtains, allowed streams of sunlight to filter into the rooms, illuminating the interior with a soft radiance.
Entering through the front door, the interior of the house revealed its classic charm. Carved wooden banisters lined the staircase, leading to the upper floors. The walls were adorned with oil paintings and framed photographs, capturing moments frozen in time. Richly patterned carpets covered the polished hardwood floors. The air carried a hint of nostalgia, an echo of bygone eras.
Inside, Maisy stood in the foyer, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of her brother.
"Blaise! You're back!"
"Is that all you can say anymore, Maisy?" Blaise teased, ruffling her hair.
Troy, alerted by the commotion, appeared at the entrance of the living room. His stern expression revealed his displeasure, his gaze fixated on Blaise. "Why have you shown up now, Blaise? Is it to cause trouble for our mother?" he demanded.
Lucien stepped forward, in front of Blaise. "Troy, Blaise is family. He needs a place to stay," he interjected, his voice unwavering. "We can work things out, but we need to give him a chance."
Troy's brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing at Blaise. "No. He cannot stay."