Sudden Shock

"Captain! Sir, Your Grace!" Reynolds's voice echoed through the pristine halls of the royal knights' headquarters, the urgency in his tone drawing curious glances.

Lucian hovered nearby, his translucent form shifting slightly as he observed the bustling scene before him. The royal knights' headquarters was nothing like he had imagined. Instead of the grimy, dirt-laden training grounds he'd expected, the place was a vision of polished marble floors, high-vaulted ceilings, and immaculate organization. Crimson banners of the Red House hung proudly, their intricate embroidery catching the light.

He scoffed softly. 'Trust the Red House to make even a barracks look like a palace.'

Cassian strode forward, his presence commanding immediate attention. The knights parted like waves, their movements precise and deferential. "Reynolds," Cassian said, his tone sharp and clipped. "Report."

Reynolds straightened, his hand tightening over the hilt of his sword. "We've searched the Faelith manor thoroughly, sir. It's… massive. Easily the largest estate I've ever seen. The number of rooms alone made it a challenge, but we've been thorough."

Lucian, only half-listening, floated toward the nearest wall, running a ghostly hand along the intricate carvings on a column. The fear in the knights' postures didn't escape him. They bowed or saluted Cassian, but their movements were stiff, almost panicked. Some outright avoided him, ducking into other corridors or hastening their pace.

'Afraid of him?' Lucian mused. Cassian had always been sharp-tongued and insufferable, but fear? It felt… excessive.

Reynolds continued, lowering his voice slightly. "Half the knights are scouring the Purple House's territory. We're operating under the assumption that the perpetrators might still be nearby."

"Smart," Cassian said curtly.

Reynolds hesitated before leaning in. "The Faelith family has also enlisted a guild to assist in the search. Spies, mercenaries, and other operatives. They've offered a reward—ten thousand gold crowns—for any information leading to the recovery of Lord Lucian's body."

Cassian raised an eyebrow. "Ten thousand crowns?"

Lucian floated closer, his tone dry. "I've spent more than that on a whim. But I suppose it's enough to tempt someone, assuming my body's only being held for ransom."

Cassian's jaw twitched, his struggle not to react to Lucian's comment evident. Reynolds, oblivious, continued. "Duke Adrian Averin also stopped by during the search."

Lucian stiffened. His translucent form flickered slightly, betraying his unease.

"He mentioned…" Reynolds hesitated. "He believes Lord Lucian might not have taken his own life. He suspects foul play."

Lucian froze mid-air, his form becoming almost transparent. Adrian's plan echoed in his mind, along with the justification he'd clung to—Adrian had no choice. Yet the thought of Adrian openly doubting his supposed "suicide" sent a ripple of something—guilt? anger?—through him.

Cassian frowned, his feigning surprise. "Murder? That's a serious accusation."

Reynolds nodded. "The Duke suggested you lead the investigation, sir. He believes you're the most capable."

Before Reynolds could elaborate, a knight passing by accidentally bumped into Cassian's shoulder.

The second knight with him gasped, immediately bowing. "Apologies, Commander!"

The offending knight looked up, his face draining of color. He dropped to his knees, trembling. "Forgive me, Your Grace! I didn't see you—I'm so sorry!"

'He's trembling.'

Lucian expected Cassian to wave it off. For all his arrogance, Cassian wasn't the type to bully the weak—or so Lucian had thought.

Cassian's expression darkened. Without a word, he kicked the kneeling knight in the stomach. The man crumpled with a choked gasp.

"Cassian, what the fuck?!" Lucian shouted, his voice sharp with disbelief.

"S-Sir!"

Cassian ignored him, his voice cold and precise. "Carelessness like yours has no place here. If you can't manage basic awareness, you're a liability."

The other knight, wide-eyed, stepped forward. "Commander, please—he didn't mean to—"

"Silence," Cassian snapped, his glare freezing the man in place. "Both of you, to the training grounds. Twenty laps, followed by drills until sunset. Dismissed."

The knights scrambled to their feet, bowing repeatedly before retreating. Their hurried steps carried them away, but not before Lucian caught snippets of whispered comments from the other knights nearby.

"Sucks to be them… running into the Commander again."

"Serves them right. Wastelings don't belong here anyway."

Lucian's gaze snapped to the retreating pair. 'Wastelings?' His mind worked quickly, connecting the dots. The looks exchanged between the two knights, the shared concern, the whispers… they were a couple.

Reynolds shifted uncomfortably beside Cassian. "Commander, was that really necessary?" he asked softly, glancing toward the retreating knights.

"They need to learn discipline," Cassian replied curtly, his tone brooking no argument.

Reynolds's gaze lingered on the retreating knights, a flicker of pity crossing his face.

"Huh. Who would've thought?" Lucian muttered, floating in front of Cassian. The ghostly figure of the former noble watched the commander closely, his translucent arms crossed in disdain. Cassian, ever the stoic, acted as if Lucian wasn't there, maintaining a pretense of indifference that only served to stoke Lucian's irritation.

"You know," Lucian began, his tone sharp with derision, "for all your insults and bullshit, I thought you were doing it out of some twisted sense of heroism. Defending the crown princess, saving all those women I supposedly terrorized."

Cassian kept his focus on Reynolds, who continued reporting on the search for Lucian's missing body, but his jaw tightened—a subtle sign that Lucian's words were getting under his skin.

"But all this time," Lucian pressed, leaning closer, "it wasn't heroism, was it? You did all that because you hate Wastelings."

The realization hit Lucian harder than he expected. The casual cruelty, the quick violence—it wasn't an anomaly. It was a pattern. The earlier incident, where Cassian had kicked the knight for a minor mistake, now made horrifying sense. The whispers of the other knights, the looks of resignation on the couple's faces as they retreated—it wasn't a one-off.

'This happens often,' Lucian thought grimly.

"And here I thought there wasn't anything I could hate you more for," Lucian said coldly, his translucent form hovering inches from Cassian's face.

Cassian, still feigning ignorance of Lucian's presence, listened to Reynolds, but his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Lucian smirked, sensing the commander's barely-contained anger.

"For all the times you called me a tantrum-throwing brat, look at you. The mighty Cassian Valenor throwing a tantrum just because a man who likes other men bumped into you. What's the matter? Afraid it's contagious?"

Cassian's composure cracked ever so slightly. His brow furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line, but he remained silent.

Lucian leaned in further, his voice a mocking whisper. "As far as I know, doesn't the Duke of Valenor—your father—support same-sex couples? He's one of the nobles advocating for their rights to marry, isn't he?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Cassian roared, his voice reverberating through the corridor.

Reynolds froze mid-sentence, his eyes widening in shock. The other knights nearby turned to stare, their expressions a mix of confusion and fear.

"Commander?" Reynolds asked hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cassian's eyes darted around, his anger barely contained. "You go ahead, Reynolds," he ordered curtly. "I just remembered I left something in the carriage."

Reynolds hesitated, clearly unsure, but he bowed his head and obeyed, retreating down the hall. Cassian turned his glare on the other knights still watching.

"If you all have time to gawk, I'll assume you need more work. Get moving."

The knights scattered like startled birds, leaving Cassian alone with Lucian. Cassian's voice dropped to a growl as he muttered, "Faelith, follow me."

Cassian strode away, his boots echoing on the marble floor. Lucian followed, his translucent form gliding silently behind. They stopped in a secluded part of the headquarters, away from prying eyes and ears.

Cassian spun around, running a frustrated hand through his hair before glaring at Lucian. "So I despise Wastelings. So fucking what?"

Lucian's eyes narrowed, his expression cold. "So what? You're a knight, Cassian. Sworn to protect people. Instead, you're out here abusing your men for liking the same sex?"

"Because it's disgusting!" Cassian spat, his voice laced with venom. "How can you even think it's not? Oh, right—because you killed yourself for another fucking man who doesn't even love you!"

Lucian laughed bitterly. "Oh, that's getting old, Cassian. Is that the only card you have? That I'm in love with Adrian? What else? I may have hurt people, but at least I did it out of love. What's your excuse?"

"Hah?" Cassian scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You hurt that knight out of spite. And from the looks on everyone's faces, you do it often."

"They asked for it," Cassian snapped. "Coming here, knowing full well they aren't welcome."

"Wow," Lucian said mockingly. "How close-minded of you. And here I thought I couldn't hate you more."

Cassian sneered. "Oh no, the spoiled brat hates me. Whatever will I do?" His voice was thick with sarcasm. "Don't lecture me on discipline when all you've ever done is waste your father's money and pine after a man who doesn't give a damn about you."

Lucian's eyes darkened. "And what about your fath—"

"DON'T you dare bring my father into this!" Cassian snarled, his voice echoing in the empty hall.

Lucian paused, surprised by the intensity of Cassian's reaction. Before either of them could say more, a voice interrupted.

"Commander?"

It was Reynolds, his voice hesitant.

Cassian turned sharply, visibly working to compose himself. "What is it, Reynolds? I told you to go ahead."

Reynolds glanced around nervously. "Ah, well… we just received an anonymous tip."

Cassian's expression shifted instantly, his anger replaced by sharp focus. "An anonymous tip?"

"Yes, sir. An owl flew in and dropped a letter. It mentions a possible lead on Lucian Faelith's whereabouts."

Cassian's gaze hardened as he processed Reynolds's words. "Lead the way," he said briskly. Reynolds nodded and turned to guide him, but Cassian hesitated.

Before following, he cast a quick glance over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing on Lucian. His lips moved in a barely audible whisper, the words meant only for the ghostly figure.

"Stay here."

Lucian frowned, his translucent arms crossing in defiance. "And why would I—"

Cassian's eyes suddenly flared a brilliant, otherworldly red, their glow casting an eerie light on his sharp features. The intensity of his gaze silenced Lucian mid-sentence. The command in those glowing eyes wasn't just threatening—it was downright menacing.

"I mean it," Cassian hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "If you step out of this spot, I will make sure the entire kingdom knows about your dark magic. I'll see to it that your family is dragged down with you. Undo the spell or not—I don't care. I'll destroy everything you've ever cared about."

For a fleeting moment, Lucian felt a chill. The weight of Cassian's words wasn't just empty bravado; there was venom in them, a cold certainty that he wasn't bluffing.

Lucian's lips parted, ready to fire back, but the words never came. Cassian's glare bore into him, daring him to test the threat.

Finally, Lucian swallowed hard, his expression tightening. He didn't respond, but his silence was answer enough.

Satisfied, Cassian turned and strode away, his crimson cape flaring behind him. Lucian watched his retreating figure, his mind a storm of anger and frustration.

'Bastard,' he thought bitterly. But now wasn't the time to provoke him further. Not when they were this close to uncovering information about his body. Once he was back in it, Cassian would pay for every slight, every insult, every threat.

Lost in his thoughts, Lucian didn't notice the faint hum building in the air around him until it was too late.

A sharp, searing jolt tore through his ethereal form, electricity coursing through him like wildfire.

"Ah—AHHHH!"

The scream ripped from Lucian's throat, raw and filled with agony, echoing through the halls of the headquarters.

His translucent form flickered wildly, the electric current seeming to bind him in place. Pain unlike anything he'd felt in life or death wracked his body, every nerve alight with torment.