Chapter 56 Lysandra
Lucien kept dancing with Rowena, but his eyes drifted to Elian from time to time.
His body was barely there, allowing Rowena to touch him however she wanted.
Soon, the guests were invited to dance with their partners. Gradually, the grand hall was filled with smiling couples dancing to the soft music.
Lucien suddenly froze, his hand loosening on Rowena’s waist as he saw Cassian gently lead Elian to the dance floor. They looked so close, with Elian’s arms on Cassian’s shoulders and Cassian’s hands on Elian’s waist. Lucien did not feel like staying there anymore.
"My love, what is the matter? People are watching," Rowena whispered.
Lucien blinked away from Elian, looking at Rowena. "Let me take you to rest."
Rowena shook her head. "My father is quite a bore. Why don’t we go greet some guests?" she asked softly.
Lucien thought for a while and slowly nodded. "Let us." He gently took her hand and led her toward the direction he’d been dying to go since the beginning of the dance.
"Princess," a lady bowed to Rowena, smiling politely. "Happy birthday, Your Highness."
Rowena returned a charming smile, resting against Lucien’s chest. "Thank you, Lady Cynthia. You look lovely."
Lady Cynthia glanced at Lucien. "You look dashing, Your Grace," she said, fluttering her lashes.
Lucien gently took her hand, kissing the back of it. "Lovely evening, Lady Cynthia."
Lady Cynthia chuckled softly. "Thank you, Your Grace."
"Enjoy the rest of your evening," Rowena said, steering Lucien away from her.
Lucien wanted to go to Elian, but Rowena was heading toward the twin princesses of Ravenwyck kingdom.
"Princess Rowena, Your Grace," the princesses bowed.
"Thank you, Cassandra, Sandra," Rowena said, hugging them.
"Your Grace," Cassandra bowed.
"Thank you for coming, Cassandra, Sandra." Lucien kissed the back of their hands, glancing around the hall for Elian.
A frown appeared on his face when he didn’t find Elian and Cassian anymore. He was about to abandon Rowena and her tiring friends when one of the princesses said a name he thought he’d never hear ever again.
"Oh my God, is that Lysandra?" Sandra gasped into her palms.
Lucien froze completely, his hand falling off Rowena’s waist.
It couldn’t be.
Wasn’t she dead?
Rowena turned, surprise showing in her eyes. "It is her. She has returned."
Lucien gulped, trying his best to stand upright as the voices and images flooded his mind, haunting him relentlessly.
Slowly, he turned, hoping the princesses were talking about someone else with an identical name, but he was wrong.
Right at the center of the hall stood the tall, beautiful woman, her red, flowing hair hiding one part of her face.
She was alive.
And she was here.
However, what further shocked Lucien was the way Cassian gently held Lysandra’s waist, leading her toward them while Elian trailed behind them.
How does Cassian know her?
What was their relationship?
He needed, no, he wanted to leave immediately.
But leaving would only cause suspicion, and that was the last thing he needed in the King’s castle.
As Cassian and Lysandra approached, Lucien pulled his cold mask on, planning to only entertain their greetings before he made an excuse and left.
Behind Cassian, Elian was walking slowly, trying his best not to brush his shoulders with anyone in the crowd. The whole facade was suffocating for him, and everyone looked so fake and forceful.
It was easy to see that the King and Rowena only had these people here because, well, they were the King and the princess. None of these guests looked genuinely happy to be here; everyone seemed to either hold a grudge or was here for gossip.
As they approached the Duke and his Princess, Elian thought of heading toward another direction, but the moment he looked into Lucien’s eyes, he instantly sensed that something was very wrong.
So he stayed.
Watching Lucien closely.
"Your Highness, Your Grace, let me introduce my sister, Lady Lysandra," Cassian said as they paused in front of Lucien and Rowena.
"Happy birthday, Your Highness," Lysandra spoke in the softest of voices.
Rowena smiled. "Oh, my God. I cannot believe my eyes. My love, it is her, she has returned." She turned to Lucien, unaware of the dark battle Lucien was fighting in his head.
Elian frowned, noting how for a moment, Lucien did not react or speak. The Duke almost looked afraid.
Why?
"It is nice to see you again, Your Grace." Lysandra bowed.
Only then did Lucien finally inhale quietly, and Elian did not miss the way his fingers trembled the slightest bit before he curled them into his palms.
"Good evening, Lady Lysandra. You look even lovelier than I remember." He praised, but he never took her hand to kiss like he did with other ladies.
Elian never missed a beat; this time, he noticed how it was Lysandra’s turn to stiffen, but she was quick to chuckle softly.
"You flatter me, Your Grace. I am way past my maiden age, but thank you. The monastery has its perks, I suppose," she said, straightening her shoulders.
Lucien cleared his throat. "That is where you have been?" he asked before he could even stop himself.
Cassian suddenly stepped forward. "You have such a beautiful ball, Your Highness," he praised.
Rowena was flattered. "It’s all thanks to every servant and you, our royal captain. I would not have done it without you all."
Cassian nodded. "I will accept this praise, Your Highness." He bowed.
"I did not know she was your sister," Lucien commented lowly.
Once again, Elian felt the stiff air between Lucien and the siblings.
Lysandra chuckled. "Of course, Your Grace. He was a shy boy and never came out. He is just your age, and boys that age weren’t allowed out yet, especially to the hunting grounds." She spoke slower now, her eyes only watching Lucien as she did.
Lucien took a step back. "You’re right, Lady Lysandra. Hopefully, in the future, we would let our ten-year-old boys join the hunt... there is a lot they could protect," he spoke calmly.
Lysandra’s expression softened. "You’re right, Your Grace. Truly, I am happy to see you again," she murmured.
This time, Lucien did kiss the back of her hand before stepping back. "If I will be excused. I need to speak to some men." He briefly kissed Rowena’s cheek and strode away, not bothering to glance at Elian, for he feared Elian might figure something out without even having to touch his hand.
"Oh, Elian," Rowena shot out her hand and grabbed Elian’s arm as he tried walking toward Lucien.
Elian’s jaw tightened as he looked at her. "Princess Rowena?" He arched his brow at her.
Rowena smiled gently and leaned in beside his face. "I want you gone. Do not follow him around like an annoying fly. The balcony, go, now," she straightened.
"Would you do that as my birthday wish, dear Elian?" Rowena asked loudly, knowing that Elian could not refuse her that way.
Elian gritted his teeth. "Yes, Your Highness." He nodded and turned, heading the opposite direction as Lucien.
Elian paused in front of the balcony door, glancing around the hall for Lucien, but he could not find him anywhere. Sighing, he pulled the door and stepped into the cold night.
The sky was dark, and the wind was slowly rustling through like it was warning of a storm. Rows of white roses rested along the wide balcony ledge, filling the air with a sweet fragrance.
Elian inhaled the beautiful scent as he headed over to sit at the small, wooden round table.
He pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, staring into the night.
Lies.
Everything was a lie.
And from what he’d seen tonight, Lucien held more secrets than he thought. The man was filled with darkness that had Elian worrying for his own safety.
Perhaps getting involved with Lucien was a terrible idea; he did not want to be added to Lucien’s dark history. He just wanted to make it out alive... with his mother.
He would steer clear of Lysandra and whatever connection she has with Lucien. His world was dark enough as it is; he did not need to invite other people’s darkness into his.
He suddenly startled as the balcony door opened, and the soft, light footsteps told him who it was before he even saw her.
He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes and wondering what exactly she wanted from him.
"You and your mother should have been burned..." Rowena appeared in front of Elian’s table, her eyes gleaming with hatred. "Together with your useless father." She placed her hands and leaned toward Elian.
Elian was triggered, deeply, but he smiled, choosing the reaction that would send spikes of anger into Rowena’s chest.
"Alas, I am alive and well. My mother, too," he replied calmly, holding her gaze with his own intense one.
Rowena’s face darkened. "I do not know what witchcraft you have used on my fiancé. You think you can compel him to set you and your whore mother free?" she sneered.
"It takes one to know one," Elian whispered.
It happened so fast, and before Elian could register, Rowena’s hand flew to her hair and then to Elian’s wrist.
"Ugh!" Elian gasped loudly, pulling his bleeding wrist away from the table, his eyes widening in shock.
He quickly pressed his hand over the slashed area, his heart pounding in fear as he stared at Rowena in apprehension.
Still, his warm blood dripped across his pale skin, dropping onto the dark marble floor, and even staining the pristine sleeves of his shirt and pants.
"You will pay for this, Rowena," Elian gritted out, angry veins appearing on the sides of his head as he glared at Rowena.
There was literally nothing he could do. Whatever he did would only worsen his situation.
"Go ahead, cry for help. I will simply tell them you wanted to defile me. You creepy traitor," she smiled evilly.
Elian was panting now, trying to stay calm so he didn’t lose more blood through his wrist.
"You’re a bitch, Rowena. No wonder the Duke doesn’t love you—uhh!" His face was slapped to the side, his cheek stinging.
"Keep speaking, Morel. You think I cannot order your death here and now? Be careful, Elian. I do not have much patience left," she whispered.
Elian shut his eyes, controlling himself from strangling the princess. He blamed Lucien for everything; if the Duke only believed his father was innocent, he would have been freed and back to his normal life in the village.
Now, he was tied to the royals’ twisted drama, and at the very lowest chain.
"Do well to bleed out out here before the end of my gala. Do not worry, I will make sure I keep the ball going until sunrise. By then, it will be your corpse left to discard," she smirked at him and spun around, waltzing away like she hasn’t just left a man to bleed to death.