— Zephyr. Finally.
He gestured for me to come closer and, with a brief wave of his hand, dismissed the guard standing by his side. The man bowed his head respectfully before leaving without a word.
I closed the door behind me and slid into the chair across from his desk, crossing my legs with deliberate nonchalance.
— How was your meeting with the prince? — he asked, adjusting his glasses and turning his calculating gaze toward me.
— Not as tedious as I expected, but not particularly useful either. — I leaned back against the chair, a small smirk forming on my lips. — Actually, I didn't see the prince. But Lady Bianca was there.
Lucien let out a low, thoughtful sound, his fingers sliding across the polished mahogany surface of the desk.
— Hm. That woman… she's as dangerous as she is captivating. — His eyes sharpened slightly. — And she has a fondness for you.
The laugh escaped before I could contain it.
— Really? Didn't seem like it, Father. Though… that wouldn't exactly be surprising.
Lucien chuckled, but there was no warmth in his expression. His laughter always carried an underlying weight, a somber note of a man who had seen and done too much to genuinely enjoy anything.
— That's good. But remember, Zephyr… even the most devoted allies can become your downfall if you're not careful.
My eyebrows lifted slightly at the insinuation.
— That's why I'm here. — I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. — I want to know more about the ball. Who will be attending?
He raised an eyebrow, as if he had expected the question but was still studying me with sharp scrutiny.
— All the important names. — He leaned back in his chair, fingers interlaced over the desk. — Nobles, generals, councilors… the imperial family. The crown prince and his entourage will be there, of course. It will be an opportunity for alliances… and rivalries. — His eyes glimmered. — But you should already know that. Since you've always been lazy, I'm not surprised you've forgotten.
I smiled, ignoring the jab.
— Perfect. — My fingers trailed along the arm of the chair as I began mentally arranging the pieces of the game. — I hope you're ready for a few surprises.
Lucien remained motionless for a moment, studying me like a hawk observing its prey.
— As long as they aren't surprises that put us at a disadvantage, Zephyr. — His voice was firm, laced with warning.
The smile on my lips grew.
— Trust me, Father. I know what I'm doing.
He held my gaze for a few seconds before finally nodding.
— I hope so.
I stood up, adjusting my coat with an easy motion.
— If you'll excuse me, I have some preparations to make.
Turning on my heels, I left the study with steady but unhurried steps, the smile still lingering on my face. The ball would be the perfect stage to start turning the tide.
And this time, I wouldn't just be the villain of the story.
I would be its master.
I ascended the stairs at a measured pace, feeling the pleasant weight of the night settle over the mansion's corridors. The silver glow of the moon seeped through the arched windows, casting long shadows across the polished floors.
The conversation with my father echoed in my mind, but one detail in particular clung to my thoughts.
Bianca, in love with me?
Now that was new.
A lopsided smirk played on my lips as I ran my fingers absentmindedly along the cold railing of the staircase. It was hard to imagine Princess Bianca succumbing to any kind of vulnerable emotion—especially for me—but the information was useful.
If the princess had an interest, it could be exploited.
I just had to decide how.
The corridor was bathed in serene silence, broken only by the whisper of the breeze slipping through the open windows. The golden light of dusk spilled across the marble floor, reflecting off the walls adorned with ancient tapestries. I walked with slow steps, still absorbed in the possibilities surrounding the ball, when something made me stop.
Lyra.
She was seated on a bench near the window, her silhouette framed by the last rays of sunlight. Her brown hair, always so disciplined, fell in soft waves around her face, illuminated by an amber hue that made it appear almost golden.
But despite the almost poetic scene, her posture said something else.
Her shoulders were stiff, her hands clenched the fabric of her dress tightly, her knuckles nearly white.
She was somewhere far from here.
I approached without hurry, observing the way her green eyes stared into the horizon, lost in thought. Then, I decided to break the silence.
— I thought you'd be in your room.
My voice echoed through the quiet hallway. Lyra startled slightly, turning her head quickly to face me. Her eyes flickered with surprise for an instant, but the expression vanished just as quickly, replaced by a mask of coldness.
— Zephyr. — Her voice was controlled but heavy with exhaustion. She turned back to the window. — I'm not in the mood to talk to you right now.
My smile appeared automatically.
— What a shame. I'm in the mood to talk to you.
I walked up to her and leaned casually against the wall beside her, crossing my arms.
— Come on, Lyra, don't be like that.
She took a deep breath before turning to me, her eyes flashing with challenge.
— Like what?
My smile widened.
— Like you're upset. — I tilted my head slightly, watching her closely. — I don't think this is just about what I said in the carriage… but about your conversation with Lady Bianca. You know she was only trying to provoke you, right?
Lyra's jaw tightened.
— And you let her.
The accusation was spoken in a low voice, but sharp enough to pull a sigh from my lips.
— Ah, so that's what this is about. — I ran a hand through my hair, massaging the back of my neck as if it were a minor inconvenience. — Lyra, Lady Bianca is… complicated. If I had defended you, it would have made things worse. She would've turned it into a spectacle, and no one needs that.
Her eyes didn't waver, fixed on mine like sharpened blades.
— Or maybe you just didn't want to defend me.
She stood up, now facing me directly, without breaking eye contact. The deep green of her irises gleamed with indignation.
— You never cared what people thought of me, did you?
I opened my mouth to respond, but she raised a hand, silencing me before I could even form an answer.
— It doesn't matter. — Her voice wavered for an instant, but she quickly suppressed it. — I know my place here. I'm just the orphan your family took in.
Something inside me twisted at her words.
My expression hardened.
— Don't say that.
My voice came out firmer than I expected, carrying something I couldn't quite name.