Lucius stiffened. Search?!
His eyes widened as the weight of the situation sank in. If they were planning to search the chambers, then everything would be exposed. His presence here, his connection to Jean—everything.
This cannot happen.
With vampiric speed, he darted into the shadows, positioning himself in a dark corner of the chamber.
His mind raced as he considered his options. He had no intention of being discovered, knowing the consequences it would bring upon Jean.
If they find me, they'll ruin her life.
His dark eyes glinted with resolve. I'd rather kill every last one of them than let them harm her.
The door creaked open, and Lucius melted deeper into the shadows, his senses sharp and his instincts on high alert. Whatever was about to happen, he was ready.
As Lucius stood frozen in the dark, tension coiled within him like a predator ready to strike. Instead of the swarm of guards he expected to flood the room, only Alaric appeared, stepping in with measured calm.
"Lucius," Alaric whispered, his tone sharp yet low enough to avoid drawing attention.
Lucius frowned, stepping out of the shadows, his movements fluid and deliberate. "What are you doing here?" he hissed, his tone brimming with suspicion. His eyes flicked toward the door, expecting to see the court officials and guards any second.
Alaric held up a hand to silence him and gestured toward the small kitchen at the back of the chamber. "Move," he ordered softly.
Lucius narrowed his eyes but obliged, slipping silently across the room and into the cramped kitchen.
The faint scent of herbs and dried lavender hung in the air, mixing with the tension between them.
Once they were inside, Alaric raised his voice, sharp and commanding, "You can come in now! Begin the search!"
Before Lucius could react, Alaric grabbed his arm in a firm grip. There was a brief but nauseating sensation, like falling through endless darkness, and suddenly the world shifted.
Lucius stumbled slightly as they reappeared in a new location. Dust motes swirled around them in the stale air.
The walls of the building were cracked and covered in creeping vines, and the wooden beams above groaned ominously.
The faint smell of mildew mixed with decay filled his nostrils.
He turned sharply to Alaric, his expression darkening as he recognized their surroundings. "Of all the cursed places, this is where you choose to bring me?"
Alaric smirked and dusted off his sleeves as though he hadn't just teleported them both across the realm. "You should be grateful. I could've landed us under the sun,"
Lucius grinned, "You're a loyal friend,"
"That quack Margaretha was seconds away from cornering you. She's dangerous." Alaric frowned. He couldn't believe such an audaciously evil person had been working with his wife.
Lucius crossed his arms, his voice icy. "Jean should've let me end her last night. It would've saved everyone a lot of trouble."
Alaric's expression hardened, and his tone dropped, sharp as a blade. "Shut up. Those are my people."
Lucius scoffed, his fangs glinting as he sneered. "Your people? Spare me. You're a vampire, Alaric. No amount of royal pretension changes that."
Alaric's jaw tightened, but he held his ground. "This is the world I know, Lucius. It's the world I've sworn to protect. So sit tight, take a look around. Maybe something here will jog your memory."
Lucius's gaze swept over the ruins with disdain, his voice low and venomous. "This is the tomb they found me in. Why the hell would I want to remember anything about this place?"
Alaric ignored the barb, his smirk returning as he turned to leave. "I have other matters to attend to. Enjoy your stroll down memory lane."
Lucius stepped forward, his irritation bubbling over. "We really need to talk about what kind of vampire you are. How in the seven hells can you teleport?"
Before he could say more, the air shifted. Alaric's presence disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving Lucius alone in the crumbling ruins.
He sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly before he straightened and took a step forward. "Great. Guess it's time to see what secrets this place holds," he muttered, his voice echoing faintly in the empty, decaying mansion.
His sharp eyes scanned the dusty, forgotten halls, a sense of unease settling in his chest. Though he hated to admit it, Alaric might be right. This place held answers—ones he wasn't sure he was ready to confront.
Meanwhile,
After Alaric gave them the command to come inside, the guards moved swiftly into the chamber, their steps cautious but determined. They searched each room methodically, from the parlor to the bedroom and then the bathroom.
With each empty room, Margaretha's expression twisted further into frustration, while Salviana and Jean exchanged nervous glances, their breaths held tight in their chests.
Only one door remained.
Jean's heart thumped wildly as her eyes darted toward the kitchen. Her fingers trembled slightly as she clutched Salviana's arm. Did Alaric hide Lucius in there? What if they find him?
Margaretha stepped forward, her finger jabbing toward the kitchen door. "There's the last room! Check it. I'm sure there's a man hiding in there." Her voice was sharp, slicing through the tense silence.
The guards nodded and moved toward the door, their hands resting on their weapons, ready to uncover whatever secrets lay behind it. Just as one guard reached for the handle, the door swung open sharply.
Alaric stepped out, his broad shoulders filling the doorway and his expression cold and unamused. His sharp black eyes swept across the room, silencing the whispers and murmurs that had begun to rise.
"There's nothing in here," he announced, his voice firm and clipped. His words carried the weight of finality.
The guards paused, nodding respectfully and stepping back. But Margaretha wasn't ready to back down. Her face reddened with indignation as she pointed an accusatory finger at Alaric.
"You didn't look hard enough! I know there's someone here. Go in and check thoroughly," she snapped, her voice shrill.
The audacity.