"It is me," I said after the knock, my voice cutting through the quiet. The door opened a moment later, just after the faintest pause, as though the person behind it had taken a breath to gather themselves. Lucian's figure came into view, his expression easing into a subtle but warm greeting as he faced me.
"Greetings, Your Highness," he said, his voice softer and more approachable than in the past. The rigid formality of his earlier greetings had given way to a friendlier tone. "How have you been?" he added, stepping aside to let me in.
"I've been fine, Lucian. What about you?" I asked, my steps carrying me into the room. The air was filled with a familiar aroma—a rich, dark chocolate scent that seemed to embrace the space, comforting and indulgent.
Elina stood by the bed, dressed in a pair of simple white trousers and a snug crop top that accentuated her lean and moderately built figure. Her soft, curving lines spoke of understated elegance—a body both practical and feminine. Her full hips tapered into her trim waist, and her handful-sized breasts were subtly emphasized by the fit of her crop top.
"Greetings, Your Highness," she said, her head dipping slightly in respect as my gaze swept over her.
"Not meeting you for three or four days, and you both fall back into this stiff routine," I teased, a flicker of amusement playing in my tone as I made my way to the sofa and sank into its plush depths. "It's fine outside, but at least call me by my name behind closed doors."
"We wouldn't dare," she replied, bowing her head slightly once again.
"So boring," I commented, the light catching in my silver eyes, making them gleam like molten metal. My gaze shifted to Lucian, who had moved to stand beside me. "We need to talk about something," I said, my voice taking on a note of seriousness. "But before that, I have a gift for you, Elina," I added, turning toward her.
"A gift?" she asked, her brows drawing together in confusion, her dark brown features painted with curiosity.
"Yes," I replied, rising to my feet with a calm, deliberate motion. "I made you a promise the last time I was here." My words carried a note of finality, a reassurance that this was no idle gesture. "And this time, I'm here to deliver on it." I gestured for them to follow me and stepped toward the door.
Opening it, I strode to the room just adjacent, the sound of my boots echoing faintly against the corridor's polished floors. "Come," I said, directing my attention to Elina. "Open the door."
Lucian, standing beside her, offered an encouraging nod. Elina hesitated for a moment, her slender fingers curling slightly as though steeling herself, before she moved forward. Her steps were measured but determined, and after taking a moment to collect herself, she reached out and turned the handle.
The door swung open, revealing a room awash in opulence. A luxurious space bathed in a refined palette of silver, dark gray, and white unfolded before her. Intricately crafted chandeliers cast a soft, shimmering glow that danced across the polished marble floors, their delicate silver inlays glinting like constellations. Towering arched windows, dressed in flowing sheer white curtains, framed the room with an ethereal light, offering glimpses of the serene palace grounds beyond.
Elina stepped inside, her movements careful, her footsteps light against the gleaming marble. Her gaze roamed over the space, taking in the ornate cabinets lining the walls, their carved doors concealing neatly arranged fabrics and tools. A grand table stood at the center, its silver-inlaid surface accompanied by upholstered chairs fit for royalty. But it was the antique sewing machine at the heart of the room that drew her focus. Its hand-crank was a masterpiece, adorned with intricate silver carvings of floral motifs—a perfect union of practicality and artistry.
Her initial hesitation melted away as she moved closer, her fingertips brushing the cool, smooth surface of the sewing machine. A quiet awe overtook her, her soft features lighting up with excitement and reverence. Her dark brown skin seemed to glow under the light, her lean figure animated as she explored. Each curve of her body—the gentle slope of her waist, the taut line of her thighs, the fullness of her hips—seemed to add to the picture of someone coming alive with purpose and joy.
"Thank you, Your Highness," Lucian said quietly beside me, his voice touched with sincerity as he watched her.
"There's no need to thank me," I replied, my gaze lingering on Elina's lithe form as she moved about the room with newfound energy. "I made a promise, and a promise should always be kept."
Lucian nodded, his voice dropping slightly. "This will mean so much to her," he said earnestly. "She's always felt out of place in the palace—like she didn't belong. This will help her feel more at home."
"For her to feel at home," I replied, my tone softer now as I glanced at Elina adjusting the sewing machine, her movements filled with purpose, "is what we want, isn't it?"
Turning back to Lucian, I let the moment pass and spoke again, my tone sharpening. "Now that this is settled, we need to talk." My eyes locked with his before i continued telling him about what was discussed in the meeting.
"Assistant," He repeated after i finished my recount, "that is doable, You have done soo much for us, I should at least do this much, after this i would feel like i am taking advantage of you if I didn't do some serious work" He said.
"No need to feel obliged, I do what I want to do. And I will take what I want at the right time too" I said my silver eyes flickering to the center of the room before meeting his thoughtful ones.
"This time though we are not only going to supervise but also make sure that this is the last time Gunnar ever works on anything" I continued as I looked at him.
Lucian's jaw tightened, his expression growing serious. "The end of his reign or the end of his life?" he asked after a moment.
"With his personality, the two are the same," I replied flatly.
We continued speaking, laying plans and reviewing strategies. Lucian's gratitude surfaced again before we parted ways. "She's always been wary, like she didn't belong. This sewing room will make a difference," he said, his words laden with appreciation.
"For her comfort," I replied, glancing back at Elina as she bent over the sewing machine, her dark eyes bright with focus, "is all we care about right now." With that, I signaled the close of our conversation. "Meet me later when you're free. We'll plan our next steps then."
Lucian gave a small bow before murmuring his farewells, and I left the corridor. Behind me, the door to the sewing room clicked shut.
Inside the sewing room, the sound of the closing door barely registered to Elina, who was fully immersed in her exploration. The luxurious space around her felt like a dream, one she hadn't dared to imagine. Her dark fingers brushed over the silver inlays of the sewing machine again, the craftsmanship mesmerizing her.
Lucian came to stand on the other side of the sewing, his eyes soft as he watched her. "So," he said, his voice breaking the silence. "What do you think?"
She turned toward him, her dark eyes shining with excitement. "What do I think?" she repeated, a grin spreading across her lips. "I love it, Lucian. This room—it's perfect." Her voice was light, almost breathless, the joy in her words unmistakable. Her lean, moderately built figure moved with energy as she spun around, taking in every corner of the luxurious space. The soft curves of her waist and hips shifted as she moved, her bubble-shaped butt accentuated by the snug fit of her white trousers.
Lucian's smile widened slightly. "I thought you might," he said, his tone light. "Does the castle feel any more welcoming now?"
Elina paused, her fingers trailing along the sewing table as her expression grew thoughtful. "It's not like home," she said finally as she leaned over the table slightly, glancing back at him, "but this definitely helps." Her lips curved into a warm smile as she added, "I feel like... I have something of my own now."
"It will feel like home in time," Lucian replied, his voice warm and reassuring. He reached out, taking her hand gently in his. "Now that you have something to do—something that's truly yours," he added, his gaze steady.
"What about His Highness?" Lucian asked, his voice steady but curious as he caressed her small soft hands. "What do you think of him now?" His dark eyes studied Elina carefully. "Do you still find him frightening?"
Elina hesitated, her hands rested between his as she gathered her thoughts. "I mean..." she began, her voice faltering slightly before she let out a nervous giggle. "His stark silver eyes don't help," she admitted, her tone carrying a mix of humor and unease. "They almost make him look creepy and dangerous."
She paused, her gaze lowering as her voice softened, the memory of her first encounter with His Highness flashing vividly in her mind. "When he looks at you," she continued, "it's like he can see everything. Every thought, every fear... like I'm naked under his gaze, with no secrets." Her dark brown features flushed faintly, the admission making her shift uneasily.
Lucian nodded, his expression thoughtful. "That's the trademark of the royal family," he said with a faint smile. "But yes, his eyes... they stand out even among them."
"And he is dangerous," Lucian added, his voice growing firmer. "Every royal is dangerous. It's who they are, what they're raised to be." He glanced at her, his tone softening. "But he's said he considers us his friends. I've chosen to trust him."
Elina's lips parted slightly, her apprehension lingering. "Trust him?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as though the words themselves might summon His Highness.
Lucian nodded again, his gaze steady. "Yes," he said simply. "It's the right choice. He's given us no reason to doubt him, and he's done much for us."
After a moment of silence, Lucian spoke again, his voice lighter now. "We should present him with a gift," he said, leaning forward slightly. "After everything he's done for us, it's only right."
Elina raised an eyebrow at him, her apprehension giving way to curiosity. "What kind of gift?" she asked, her tone cautious.
Lucian gestured to the room around them. "He gave you this—a sewing room of your own," he said. "Why not sew something for him? Make it personal, something that only you could create."
Elina's expression turned doubtful, her brow furrowing slightly as she crossed her arms. "But what if it's not good enough?" she asked, her voice filled with uncertainty. "What if it's not... worthy of him?"
Lucian rose from his chair, walking around the table to stand beside her. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his touch warm and steady. "Start working on the design," he said gently. "Don't worry about the rest."
She looked up at him, her apprehension still lingering. "How can I make something without knowing his measurements?" she asked, her tone almost exasperated. "I can't create anything without knowing every detail about his body."
Lucian smiled, his confidence unwavering. "I'll handle that," he said. "I'll get the measurements for you."
Elina studied him for a moment, her dark eyes searching his face for reassurance. Slowly, her lips curved into a small, reluctant smile. "Fine," she said, letting out a soft sigh. "I'll do it. But don't take too long—I want it to be perfect."
"It will be," Lucian replied, his voice low and certain. He leaned in, pressing a light kiss to her cheek, his lips brushing her warm, soft skin.
"Lucian," she breathed, her voice dropping as her hand moved to rest against his thigh. Her fingers grazed the fabric of his trousers, the touch lingering as she leaned closer. Her tone was soft, almost pleading. "It's been a long time now," she murmured, her eyes locking onto his with a fervent intensity. "Too long."
Lucian's smile faltered, his body stiffening under her touch. His expression shifted, the warmth in his gaze replaced by something heavier—an unspoken conflict. Slowly, he straightened, stepping back as he gently took her hand and removed it from his leg.
"Elina," he said quietly, his tone steady but strained. He looked down at her, regret flickering in his dark eyes. "His Highness is waiting for me," he continued, his voice soft but firm. "You should get back to thinking about his gift."
Elina's breath hitched, her hand falling to her side as her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of brown. The disappointment in her eyes was clear, though she masked it with a faint, bittersweet smile. "I see," she said softly, her voice steady but subdued.
Lucian hesitated, then leaned forward again, brushing another light kiss against her cheek. "See you later," he murmured gently before turning and walking away. His steps were hurried as he exited the room, his demeanor downcast, as though he were carrying the weight of his decision.
Elina stood in silence, her gaze fixed on the table as the sound of the closing door echoed faintly in her ears. A rosy tint remained on her dark cheeks, though her eyes flickered with a mix of resolve and disappointment. After a moment, she let out a quiet breath and turned back to the sewing machine. Her fingers moved to the hand-crank, turning it slowly as her expression grew focused.
"Let's see what I can create," she murmured to herself, determination replacing the lingering tension as she began envisioning the gift.