His past

"Lucien, where are you? Open the door."

Ivy banged the door to Lucien's room, crying out loud.

She was very afraid, very afraid of death.

Why was she so afraid? She was afraid of losing herself, abandoning herself. It was her logic.

They had abandoned her, gone and left her in this world.

So she didn't want to die, abandoning herself.

She couldn't lose herself. She was so afraid of losing herself to death.

"Lucien, open the door! Dear Duke, please open the door!" she yelled once more, hitting the door, but Lucien wasn't opening it.

"You bastard, open this door!" she yelled out of frustration—words that were going to make her regret someday.

---

Meanwhile, Lucien was in his room meditating on his magic, trying to control his mana that was getting out of control.

He had heard Ivy yell, calling his name.

He hissed to himself. "What does this woman want? Why is she calling my name in the middle of the night? I won't open the door," he said to himself, creasing his brows and continuing his meditation.

His mood was unstable. The banging on the door continued, and he finally lost it.

He had heard Ivy calling him a bastard. Did she just call him a bastard?

He got up, stopping his meditation and going outside to teach Ivy a lesson. She had the guts to call him that word—the word he hated the most.

Ivy continued hitting the door, not knowing the danger that might be coming for her from inside the room.

As her hand was about to give the door the last hit, the door snapped open, a hand holding her wrist and dragging her inside in a hurry.

The second masked man who had been following Ivy was just in time at the door to catch Ivy when the door was banged on his face, causing him to faint.

"What is this ruckus you're creating? Why are you hitting my door?"

Lucien asked through gritted teeth, looking at her. He had not gotten the time to look at Ivy's face and the tears in her eyes.

Ivy's muffled cries reached his ears, and his cold expression melted a bit as he looked into her eyes.

"Ivy, come." He cupped her face. "What is it?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

Ivy's eyes were red and swollen, and tears filled her eyes.

"They…" she began, not able to continue.

"Yes, I'm all ears." Lucien rubbed her hair, soothing her. "Come on, tell me."

He was not used to doing this for anyone. He couldn't understand why he wanted to calm her down.

"They… want to kill me… masked men," Ivy stammered, completing the rest of her words.

"What… who dares?" Lucien's eyes turned serious, and they dilated.

"An assassin? How dare an assassin—"

Ivy held Lucien's hand, covering his mouth. "Hey, be quiet! Let them not know that we are inside here."

Lucien rolled his eyes, removing her hands, which were warm on his mouth.

"Be mindful of your actions," he warned slightly, proceeding to pinch her ears.

Ivy winced, not believing he had done this. Her eyes widened like she was going to eat him.

Her gaze shifted to his forehead. If only his horns were out, she would have done the same to him.

Lucien smirked slightly, reading her intention in her eyes. Oh, she was after his horns.

"Don't even think about it," Lucien said with a deep frown, poking her nose.

Ivy crumpled her face like a feather had been whisked on her nose. She almost let out a sneeze because of it.

"I said we should be careful and not make noise," she said to Lucien, "and now you are here doing things that would make us make noise."

While she was talking, Lucien just stared at her like an idiot, thinking she was so stupid.

"Look at what you are saying. I'm the Fire Duke of the whole kingdom, and you want me to be scared of little dirty assassins?"

He snorted, his voice carrying authority. "I can easily deal with them if I want."

With his words said, Lucien proceeded to open the door, but Ivy hugged his chest and whispered, "No, hey, stop that. You don't know what else those assassins are carrying. As it is said, know your enemies first."

Lucien hissed at what Ivy said, using his finger to point at her forehead, pushing her away. The force alone on his single finger was enough to push Ivy's small head away — a head that only knew how to be pretty.

"Hey!" Ivy huffed, wanting to take her revenge by pounding on him. She was in the posture as if a lazy person wanted to fall off their bed after a lazy day.

But Lucien easily caught her by the waist, his powerful, veiny hand stopping her when she had wanted to execute him unexpectedly.

Lucien looked at Ivy in his hold, wriggling like a spider wanting to get off.

He simply rolled his eyes for the second time and mocked her, "Don't you have your powers? Couldn't you defeat them?"

Ivy looked at him and muttered, "You wouldn't understand."

"And what wouldn't I understand?" Lucien asked, gazing at her.

Ivy, wanting to take away the seriousness, considered letting out a joke but stopped herself and told the truth instead.

"It's because I'm scared... I'm scared of death," her voice was low as a hush, her eyes dropping down, eyelashes cascading like shadows on her face.

Lucien looked at her in the moment, thinking of what to say. His words of comfort came out as a sneer instead.

"Ha! You are too weak. When I was six, I had already mastered the fire element when it wasn't even my real source of power."

Ivy looked up at the villain. Yes, the villain had grown up alone. The fire element wasn't his own because the crystal that held his family's power, giving them all the magic, was stolen, and it was all done by the king... Lucien was made an orphan by the king.

A weak, small boy was left in the wilderness, surviving many mystical creatures until he found the crystal of the fire element when he was about to die, almost killed by a powerful beast. Lucien was just a little dragon at that time—how could he have fought those mighty beasts?

It was the fire crystal that saved his life, though he had to die when consuming it to gain its power because fire wasn't his natural element but the frozen magic. And the frozen magic had been stolen by the king through his shady means.

"Sorry," Ivy muttered, looking at Lucien with sad eyes.

Lucien looked at her with disgust. What was that kind of look she was giving him?

It appeared as sympathy—yes, he could see sympathy in her eyes.

The disgust in his heart grew further. "Stop looking at me with such eyes," he dismissed, covering her eyes roughly with his palm.

He hated anyone ever looking at him with pity.

"Be ready to fight because I'm opening the door at this moment," Lucien said with little annoyance, causing Ivy's eyes to widen.

She was just a weak woman! She didn't know how to fight! The villain didn't know how to treat a woman at all!