What are you doing?

She had to find another way to show Lucien that someone was out to hurt him. First, she had to find the maid from the previous night, but that would be very difficult because Levina did not see her face due to the darkness. Nevertheless, she was determined to find the maid and make her talk.

In the meantime, she had to protect Lucien. The thought made her feel warm inside, but she still couldn't understand why she had this overwhelming urge to protect him. She shook the thought away from her head; she had a job to do and couldn't afford to allow flimsy emotions to get in the way.

Standing to her feet after replacing the cloaking spell, the grass was back to looking new and fresh, just like her resolve.

...

Cleopatra smiled brightly at Draven and waved a gloved hand as she alighted from her carriage. Draven put away the sword he was hammering and went to her. "Princess Cleo," he bowed his head.

Cleopatra pouted, feigning annoyance. "Stay away from me," she brushed past him.

On entering his shop, she took a seat away from the hanger, holding up swords, axes, and spears. "What did I do this time?" Draven asked, amused by her never-ending childlike behavior. He brought an empty stool and sat in front of her.

"If you can call my brother Lucien, why can't you call me Cleo? Is the Princess necessary?" she folded her hands over her breasts.

Draven's head fell backward as he broke into laughter. "I am glad I amuse you," she looked down at her palms shyly.

"Sorry about that, Cleo, it's just old habits. That's all." He rose to his feet and returned to the sword he was hammering.

Cleo couldn't help but stare at his defined, bulging biceps, which were exposed by his sleeveless workcloth. She looked away as sweat trickled down the muscular bicep, forcing herself not to entertain vulgar thoughts. She could remember when they were kids, Draven was tall and lanky. She never thought he would be this huge and muscular. She had always expected Soren to be the huge one when they grew up.

"So what brings you here, Cleo?" he asked, with his eyes trained on the metallic object in his hand.

Cleopatra rubbed her arm nervously as her cheeks turned a bright shade of red. "I needed to see you," she wanted to say but thought better of it. "I went to meet a friend and thought I should drop by to see you on my way home. It's been a while," she said instead.

"I haven't really had the time to drop by. I usually just meet up with Lucien at the training ground," he glanced at her briefly before returning his gaze to his work. "What have you been up to?"

Cleopatra shrugged. "Nothing really, other than dealing with my two warring brothers. With the way they are at each other's throats, you wouldn't believe they were birthed by the same woman." She shook her head in disapproval.

"But you do know that Zarek is to blame most of the time."

"Yes, I know. But it's becoming old now. When we were younger, I thought they would outgrow their differences with time. But it is only getting worse," she frowned, staring blankly into her palm.

"All thanks to Queen Lucretia," he replied briskly.

When Cleopatra fell silent, Draven put down his hammer and walked over to her. "I didn't mean it that way," he said, settling onto a stool.

"Yes, I know," she replied. Draven retrieved a towel from the pocket of his ripped apron and wiped his face. "So how is Lucien?"

"Not so good," Cleopatra replied, avoiding his gaze. Looking into his eyes made her weak in the knees. "Father gave the chief commander position to Zarek today."

"What?" Draven exclaimed in anger. "Why?"

"Zarek brought back the head of Ansell, and Father promised to give him whatever he wanted as a reward. And Zarek, being who he is, asked to be made the chief commander."

Draven's forehead creased in fury. "I can't believe this!"

"I wonder how Lucien is handling this," he said after a while.

Cleopatra didn't respond. Instead, she raised her face to look at Draven one last time. His blonde hair was longer than the last time she saw him, and his brown eyes were cold and withdrawn. She wanted to touch his cheek and ask if he was all right, to hold out her arms for him to seek shelter from his demons. But she knew Draven; he was tough and had a protective wall around himself, never letting anyone get close to him.

She noticed his pale lips moving again, but she couldn't make out the words he was saying. The loud thumping of her heart filled her ears, and his musky scent mixed with sweat clouded her senses. She knew she shouldn't do it, shouldn't even think about it, but against her better judgment, she cupped his face and pulled him in.

Before she could kiss him, however, he broke free from her and jumped to his feet. "What are you doing?" he barked.