"Happy Birthday, Little Lord! My, how fast time flies. It seems like only yesterday that you were but a child running around parties like this."
Lucian's brows twitched at the comment. His tolerance for such remarks was thinner than the rim of his champagne glass. "Baron Keysler, I appreciate you attending my party," he began, his smile sharp and saccharine, "but I'd also appreciate it if you refrained from addressing me as 'Little Lord' from now on. In case it has escaped your notice, I turned twenty-one today."
The Baron blinked, caught off guard. "Ah, of course, my lord, I—"
"I understand how easy it must be for someone of your… advanced years to lose track of time," Lucian continued, tilting his head with faux sympathy. "Though, I'd imagine if I were you, I'd focus less on reminiscing about other people's childhoods and more on trying to salvage what little reputation I have left before my hairline recedes further."
The smile never left Lucian's face as Baron Keysler flushed a deep red, his lips pressing into a tight, forced grin. "I see... Well, then, I shall take my leave. Do enjoy your evening, Lord Faelith."
"Thank you for the well wishes, Baron," Lucian replied sweetly, raising his glass in a mock toast as the man turned and walked away stiffly.
Lucian took a sip of champagne, savoring the small victory.
"First victim of the evening: Baron Keysler," came a familiar voice from beside him. Lucius, his older brother, leaned against the table with an amused smirk. "Although, I must say, it's unusual for you to target men. I thought your sharp tongue was reserved for women."
"Correction," Lucian said, swirling the champagne in his glass. "I only target women when they cross my line. And…" He huffed, crossing his arms. "He called me little."
Lucius chuckled. "When they cross your line, or a certain someone else's?"
Lucian opened his mouth to retort, but his gaze shifted to the entrance. A figure with familiar golden hair and piercing blue eyes stepped into the room, and everything else faded away.
"Adrian!" Lucian exclaimed, immediately setting his glass down and rushing to the man he had been waiting for all evening.
Lucius chuckled softly as his younger brother darted off. "Ah, the certain someone has finally arrived."
The blonde turned toward him, his expression cool and composed as always. He barely reacted when Lucian practically threw himself at him, linking their arms together as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Good evening, Lucian," Adrian said, his tone indifferent but not dismissive. "And happy birthday."
Lucian clung to Adrian the moment he reached him. As always, Adrian's expression remained calm and indifferent, his posture as composed as ever. He didn't push Lucian away, but neither did he return the embrace.
To Lucian, Adrian's lack of rejection was equivalent to acceptance.
It had been fourteen years since they first met. Fourteen years since Lucian fell in love.
Yes, even at the tender age of seven, Lucian had known his feelings were something more. The years that followed only deepened those emotions.
Ever since that fateful day at Adrian's parents' funeral, Lucian had been smitten. But time had changed Adrian.
Once a boy who laughed and cried freely, Adrian grew cold and distant after taking on the responsibilities of Duke Averin at just thirteen. Lucian understood the pressure and grief that had hardened Adrian, and he never held it against him.
What he did hold against, however, were the countless women who threw themselves at Adrian over the years—young and old, noble and commoner alike.
Adrian, ever polite, never encouraged them but never outright rejected them either. Lucian, however, took it upon himself to be Adrian's self-appointed shield and pushed away any potential rivals.
'Adrian either belongs to me or no one else's.'
As they walked through the hall together, arm in arm, Lucian caught the sound of a whisper behind them.
"Ugh. I can never get used to seeing two noblemen linking arms like that. One as handsome as Lord Adrian should have a beautiful woman like me by his side."
'Oh, that's quite adorable.'
Lucian's steps slowed, his sharp ears catching every word. A sweet, almost dangerous smile curved his lips as he glanced over his shoulder.
'...and quite pathetic.'
When he reached the woman in question, he leaned in just enough for her to hear. "Beauty standards among women must have dropped lately if you think you're suited to stand by Adrian's side."
"P-Pardon?!"
He didn't wait to see her reaction. He knew she'd gasp in shock, maybe even clutch her pearls. But what could she do? Lucian Faelith, heir to the richest house in the kingdom, was untouchable. No one would dare confront him directly.
"Was that necessary?" Adrian asked calmly, not even glancing back at the offended woman.
"Completely," Lucian replied without hesitation, flashing Adrian a cheeky grin.
Adrian didn't respond, but Lucian didn't expect him to. 'He didn't scold me. Well, he never does anyways.' He was content knowing Adrian didn't chastise him for it.
It made all the dirty looks being thrown at him by other nobles worth it. Not that he cared what measly nobles thought. Their whispers and glances only fueled his sense of superiority. The only thing that bothered Lucian—ever so slightly—was the lack of reciprocation for his feelings. But Adrian was a duke now.
He had responsibilities, priorities, and obligations far beyond what Lucian could imagine. And as the self-proclaimed future duchess—or duke—of House Averin, Lucian knew he had to respect his future husband's work.
Was he being delusional? Yes. Did he plan on stopping? Absolutely not.
'We belong together,' Lucian thought, stealing a glance at Adrian, who was now
in the middle of a polite exchange with Lord Evander, a portly noble with a penchant for rambling about the Magic Tower's affairs. Lucian only half-listened, his attention focused more on Adrian's profile than the conversation.
"...and that's why I firmly believe the council should intervene," Lord Evander was saying, his tone dripping with self-importance. "Allowing the mages free rein is a recipe for disaster. Their latest project—whatever it may be—is shrouded in far too much secrecy."
"That is an interesting perspective, Lord Evander," Adrian replied smoothly, his tone courteous yet distant. "Though I would caution against hasty interference. The Magic Tower has long maintained its autonomy for a reason. Undermining that could have… unintended consequences."
Evander blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Ah, yes, well, of course, there are reasons for their independence, but surely you agree that oversight is necessary. What if their experiments pose a threat to the kingdom?"
Lucian suppressed a smirk. Adrian had a way of disarming even the most pompous of nobles with his calm, measured responses. It was a skill Lucian both admired and envied.
"I understand your concerns," Adrian continued, his tone measured. "However, the tower's contributions—particularly in magical defense—have proven invaluable. Recent advancements in protective wards have already bolstered the capital's security. Do you propose we jeopardize that relationship?"
"Well, no, but…" Evander hesitated, clearly flustered.
As the conversation carried on, Lucian tightened his hold on Adrian's arm, subtly leaning closer. His head brushed against Adrian's shoulder, a bold move that drew a sharp intake of breath from Lord Evander.
"Is something the matter, Lord Evander?" Adrian asked, his expression as neutral as ever.
Evander cleared his throat, his face reddening. "N-no, nothing at all, Lord Averin. I was simply… surprised, that's all."
Lucian tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Surprised by what, my lord?"
"Ah… nothing, Lord Faelith. Please, pay me no mind." Evander quickly looked away, clearly uncomfortable.
Adrian's lips twitched slightly, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through his otherwise composed demeanor. "Indeed. Now, regarding the tower's recent funding request—"
Lucian's heart soared. Adrian hadn't shrugged him off or reprimanded him for the display of affection. In fact, he almost seemed to encourage it, or so Lucian convinced himself.
Yes. Everything was perfect.
That perfection shattered the moment the royal knight's booming voice echoed through the hall.
"Attention all! The crown princess of the Kingdom of Elarion has arrived. Bow your heads, and greet Her Royal Highness, Princess Elara Luminaris!"
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the grand entrance. Lucian's mood soured instantly, his hold on Adrian's arm dropping as if burned.
'No, not her...anyone but her. Fuck.'
Now, it was ruined.