"I-I still... I can't do this," Lucian gasped, his voice breaking as he threw the dagger onto the ground. The sound of the blade clattering against the marble floor echoed through the room. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, his chest heaving as he leaned against the wall for support.
A few days had passed since he first resolved to use the forbidden spell to bind his soul to Adrian. He had discovered the incantation, prepared the ritual, and steeled himself for the ultimate sacrifice.
But no matter how determined he felt in the heat of his emotions, he couldn't bring himself to plunge the blade into his stomach.
It wasn't supposed to be this hard.
'Why can't I do it?' Lucian thought, his trembling fingers brushing against his abdomen where the dagger had hovered moments before. He had tried to convince himself that it was the only way.
He had even resorted to writing letter after letter to Adrian, begging him to meet and talk, knowing full well that he wasn't allowed to leave the manor.
Adrian never responded.
Each rejection fueled Lucian's frustration. Every unanswered plea brought him back to the spell and the knife, only for his courage to fail him at the last second. Again and again.
Lucian knew he was wasting time.
'I love him. I'd do anything for him,' he thought bitterly, his gaze dropping to the discarded dagger. 'So why am I so afraid to die so we could be together?'
His eyes flickered to the portrait of his mother hanging above the fireplace. Stefania's kind yet resolute expression stared back at him, her dark eyes seeming to pierce through his soul. She had been a woman of unyielding strength, a mage who embraced the darkness that others feared.
Lucian stepped closer to the portrait, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Mother... why can't I do it? You told me to embrace who I am. You said this magic was our legacy, that I had to use it to claim what's mine. I know I love Adrian. I'd give up everything for him. So why..." His voice cracked.
"Why am I so scared?"
The silence in the room was deafening. The only response was the faint crackling of the fireplace, the warmth of the flames doing little to thaw the icy fear gripping his heart.
A sudden knock at the door startled him.
"Lord Lucian," a soft yet composed voice called from the other side. "May I come in?"
Lucian's heart leaped into his throat. Panic surged through him as he hurriedly snatched the dagger from the floor and the forbidden book from the desk. He shoved them both under the cushions of the armchair, smoothing his hair and adjusting his expression before calling out, "Come in."
The door opened, and Selene, his new maid, entered with graceful precision. She had replaced Agatha and Loid, who had been relieved of their duties after allowing Cassian into the manor a few days prior.
Selene's posture was perfect, her face serious as she stepped inside, holding a sealed envelope in her hands.
"You've received a letter, my lord," Selene announced, her tone even and professional.
"Just leave it on the table," Lucian said dismissively, already assuming it was another letter from his brother, who had left for a neighboring kingdom to handle trading issues. He wasn't in the mood to deal with it now, not when his anger toward his brother still simmered.
Selene hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "It is a...response from the Duke of Averin, my lord."
Lucian froze.
His heart skipped a beat, then began to pound furiously in his chest. Hope surged through him, nearly overwhelming in its intensity. "Adrian?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Selene nodded, stepping forward to place the letter in his outstretched hand.
Lucian snatched the envelope, his fingers trembling as he stared at the seal—Adrian's family crest, the blue rose of House Averin. His breath quickened, his mind racing.
'He responded,' Lucian thought, his chest tightening with a mixture of relief and anxiety. After days of silence, of rejection, Adrian had finally written back.
Without another word, Lucian broke the seal and unfolded the letter, his eyes scanning the elegant handwriting as his heart dared to hope.
"Please, please, please..." Lucian whispered, his voice trembling as though his desperation might summon the response he so desperately wanted. His hands clutched the letter, knuckles white, as he silently prayed to any god who might still care.
'Let this be it. Let him agree to meet me. Let him say he'll stop the engagement to the princess.'
Taking a shaky breath, Lucian unfolded the letter with care, though his hands trembled so violently he nearly tore the parchment. He swallowed hard, his chest tight with anticipation, and began to read.
Lucian,
I will not make this letter long, as I am tired of repeating myself. You are my friend, and perhaps I owe you an apology for my role in the events that humiliated you during your 21st birthday celebration. But understand this: I do not regret it.
I have long wanted to tell you that your actions over the years have become bothersome and detestable. My love and my heart belong solely to Crown Princess Elara. She is my future, my loyalty, and my life. No amount of years spent as friends can compare to the love I hold for her.
If you wish to remain friends, I will accept it—on the condition that you respect my relationship and my impending marriage. Elara and I are to be wed soon, for we can no longer bear to wait.
Lucian, I know this may hurt you, but I cannot and will not ever return your feelings. I beg you to stop writing these letters. I hope you can understand and that we may return to the way things were before—as childhood friends.
Best regards,
Adrian
Lucian stared at the letter, his eyes fixed on the neatly written words that blurred before him. His breathing hitched, but his expression remained unnervingly calm. His hands, however, betrayed him, trembling so violently that the paper shook in his grasp.
A faint, hollow laugh escaped his lips. "Ha..."
Selene, who stood nearby, watched him cautiously, unsure if she should intervene. She wanted to ask if he was all right, but something about Lucian's stillness—the eerie calm that masked a storm—froze her in place.
Something inside him broke.
Lucian didn't know what it was, but he felt it. A fracture, deep and irrevocable, that sent a cold wave through his chest.
'This is why,' he realized, 'this is why I couldn't go through with it.'
Hope. That fragile, foolish thing had kept him from plunging the dagger into his chest. The hope that Adrian would come to him, that he wouldn't have to go to such extremes. That Adrian might choose him over the princess.
Now, that hope was gone.
Lucian's hands tightened around the letter, crumpling the delicate parchment. His eyes burned with unshed tears, but his expression remained frozen, his lips pressed into a thin line. He tossed the crumpled letter aside with a sharp, jerking motion, the sound of paper hitting the floor startling Selene into a small gasp.
"Adrian... Adrian..." Lucian whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of sorrow and determination. His lips curled into a bitter smile as tears pricked his eyes.
'You're just confused,' he thought. 'You don't understand. But I'll make you see.'
They were meant to be together forever.
He looked up, his gaze locking on Selene with unnerving intensity. "You."
Selene flinched, her professional demeanor slipping into one of fear. "Y-Yes, Your Grace?"
"Get me a quill and paper. Now."
"R-Right away, Your Grace." Selene stammered, bowing before scurrying to his desk. She gathered the items quickly, though her eyes lingered for a moment on the strange scribbles etched into the parchment on his desk—symbols she couldn't understand but that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Selene," Lucian's voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and commanding. "Now."
She rushed to his side, handing him the quill and parchment with trembling hands.
Lucian wasted no time. He pressed the paper to the table and began writing furiously, his usually elegant handwriting devolving into messy scrawls. He didn't care. He only needed a few words.
Come now, or else I will kill myself.
Lucian folded the note with deliberate care and looked at Selene. "Deliver this to the Duke of Averin immediately. No delays. I don't care how you do it—just make sure it reaches him."
Selene hesitated, her brows knitting together. "Your Grace, but—"
"And I order you to inform all the guards and servants that no one—no one, not even my father or brother—is to enter this room. Only Adrian Averin is allowed. Do you understand?"
Selene's lips parted as though to protest, but the weight of Lucian's gaze silenced her. His presence, slight and delicate as it was, carried a dark gravity that seemed to press down on the air itself.
"Y-Yes, Your Grace," she said finally, bowing her head. "I will deliver the letter and ensure your orders are carried out."
"Good." Lucian's eyes flickered to the hidden book of spells and the dagger he had set aside.
It's time.