Before she could say more, Lucius straightened and gestured toward the small dining area.
"It's getting warm in here. Go sit," he said gently, his tone taking on an air of authority. "I'll bring everything when it's ready."
Jean hesitated, reluctant to leave him, but the heat of the kitchen was indeed beginning to prickle at her skin.
She nodded slowly and turned toward the door, glancing over her shoulder before stepping out.
"Lucius," she said softly, pausing in the doorway.
He looked up from his task, the flicker of a question in his eyes.
"Thank you," she murmured.
A faint smile ghosted across his lips. "Anything for you," he repeated, his voice low and steady.
Jean's heart tightened as she left, her mind racing. He wasn't always a vampire. He wasn't always what he was now.
And somehow, knowing that made him feel both closer and infinitely farther away.
A sharp knock echoed through the quiet quarters, jolting Jean from her thoughts as she lay in bed, her limbs heavy with exhaustion.
For a moment, she froze, her mind scrambling to recall where she was—and with whom.
She was supposed to be alone who knew if it was Margaretha again.
Panic trickled in, reminding her she wasn't supposed to be at home with a man.
Before she could muster the strength to get up, Lucius was already on the move. "I'll handle it," he murmured, his deep voice calm but firm as he moved toward the door.
He opened it just a crack, positioning himself behind it, the faintest shadow of a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Jean?" a familiar, cautious voice called from outside. Salviana stepped in tentatively, her eyes sweeping the room with a mix of concern and curiosity.
She hesitated near the threshold, her gaze lingering on Lucius for just a moment before softening.
"I'm here," Jean called weakly from the other room, her voice muffled but audible. "I'm coming—"
"No, don't," Salviana interrupted gently, already moving toward her. "You need to rest. I'll come to you." She motioned for the maids to follow her inside.
The three maids entered, arms laden with trays and baskets of food. They bustled about, their faces serene—until Sarah and Thalia turned and caught sight of Lucius.
Standing tall and ominous behind the door, Lucius was a silent, brooding figure, his sharp features half-lit by the dim morning light as he hid.
His presence seemed to fill the space, and his dark gaze flickered to the maid with an almost lazy disinterest.
Thalia squealed, her eyes wide with shock, and the basket of fruits slipped from her hands, tumbling to the floor in a messy heap.
"Apologies," Lucius said dryly, though his tone betrayed no real regret.
He stepped forward, shutting the door with a soft but decisive click, the sound reverberating in the now-tense room.
He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair before turning back toward the room.
Salviana glanced between the flustered maid and Lucius, her brow furrowing slightly as if to piece together what exactly she had walked into.
She turned her attention to Jean's door and called out gently, "Jean, we brought you some food. There's no rush—stay where you are."
Lucius crossed his arms and leaned casually against the doorframe, watching the maids scurry to pick up the spilled fruits.
Sarah muttered an apology to him, avoiding eye contact entirely, while Emma cast a nervous glance at his imposing figure.
"Thank you," Jean's voice floated from her room, weary but grateful.
"She will only eat what I cook," Lucius said broodingly.
Salviana, ever composed, turned to Lucius. Her tone was light, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity. "What?"
"I will feed Jean with a healthy meal that I made," Lucius said moving towards the kitchen, the maids try not to look at him but they wonder what he was doing here and who he was.
Salviana frowned nounderstanding the way conversation was going, "Who is cooking? You made Jean cook?"
"No," he said simply
Salviana frowned, the talk was stressing he ralong with how hot this place was, "Why's this place so hot?"
"I'm cooking," Lucius shrugged.
Salviana's eyeswidened while the maids setting the table paused tomeet each others eyes, "You can cook?"
"I'm a lot older then Alaric," he said cocky.
Salviana's lips quirked upward, but she said nothing more, turning her attention back to the maids as they arranged the food neatly on the small table in the quarters.
Jean, still resting, listened to the faint hum of activity, her heart pounding as she wondered how much longer she would have to be in this precarious situation.
"Your Grace," Jean stepped out of her room, her pale figure leaning against the doorframe for support.
Salviana rushed to her side instantly, her expression both worried and warm.
"Oh, sweetheart, you are so pale," Salviana said as she enveloped Jean in a firm hug.
Jean, her voice muffled against Salviana's shoulder, muttered weakly, "I stink." She pulled away with an apologetic grimace.
Salviana chuckled softly, wiping the sheen of sweat from Jean's forehead with her fingers. "Of course you do, darling. You've been cooped up here for hours without a bath and with an old man for company."
From the kitchen, Lucius's amused voice rang out. "I can hear you, Princess Alaric."
Jean bit back a laugh, her cheeks turning pink as Salviana smirked.
Lucius, leaning casually in the doorway to the kitchen, glanced at them before disappearing back inside.
As soon as he was out of sight, Jean leaned closer to Salviana and whispered conspiratorially, "Lucius stole from the royal kitchen."
Salviana raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Oh?"
"Anything for Pumpkin," Lucius called out from the kitchen without missing a beat, his tone teasing.
Salviana burst into a smile, and Jean's blush deepened.
"That's so cute," Salviana said, her voice tinged with admiration.
Jean rolled her eyes, trying to hide the way her lips twitched into a smile. "He's a nuisance.