Chapter 8- Bound by the unknown

"Didn't expect you here today," the shopkeeper hummed, eyeing the cloaked figure.

His voice was raspy yet welcoming, his weathered hands wiping the dust from a nearby counter. The eerily shadowed shop felt like a hidden corner of the world, untouched by time.

Lucien paused at the doorway, his eyes narrowing slightly as he surveyed the cluttered shelves before him. The air carried the faint scent of incense and aged leather, a stark contrast to the damp streets outside.

Lucien ignored the pleasantries. "Is the item ready?"

The shopkeeper nodded hastily and began rummaging through the shelves. "Of course, of course. I set it aside the moment it arrived. It's a rare find, you know…"He continued rambling as he searched, but Lucien had already turned away, his gaze sweeping over the cluttered store, idly examining each item.

It was then that he saw it.

A single, unassuming book.

It sat on a low wooden table, surrounded by objects far more ornate, yet Lucien felt an inexplicable pull toward it. He stepped closer, his fingers hovering just above the cover.

The shopkeeper's eyes flickered with interest as he noticed Lucien's lingering gaze. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face, and he strode toward the object with deliberate purpose. His fingers traced the edges of it with a quiet reverence, as though even the slightest touch carried a weight of unspoken significance.

"Ah… that one," he murmured, his voice dropping just enough to suggest secrecy. "It is not just any book, my friend. That's a relic of sorts. Some say it's enchanted, others say cursed….though, really, isn't there a fine line between the two?" He chuckled dryly, his weathered hands brushing dust off the cover.

"A master craftsman made it, one of the finest of his time. His work was sought after far and wide, and people swore his creations carried something… beyond skill."

He let the words hang in the air before exhaling, shaking his head as if recalling a tale too strange to believe. "Not long after he finished this very piece, he died under strange circumstances. Some say he poured too much of himself into his craft. Others say the book took something from him."

He tapped a finger against the cover, lowering his voice. "I had a hell of a time getting my hands on it. People were too afraid to part with it. But me?" He grinned, spreading his hands dramatically. "I know a treasure when I see one."

He leaned in, watching Lucien's expression closely. "It's not just a book—it's a legacy. And a dangerous one at that." His fingers drummed against the counter. "You have a sharp eye, Sir Vane. You can tell, can't you?"

Lucien raised an eyebrow, his expression tinged with amusement at the absurdity of the story. He had no intention of indulging such vague, nonsensical claims. Yet, for reasons he couldn't quite explain, his hand moved instinctively before his mind could dismiss it. He found himself picking up the book.

"How much?"

The shopkeeper hesitated for a moment, then smiled slyly. "For you, Sir Vane… I'll make it a fair deal." His smile widened crookedly, knowing all too well that 'Vane' never hesitated to spend a fortune whenever he comes here.

Lucien didn't argue and nodded slightly. "Pack it with my other item," he said, his tone composed.

The shopkeeper's eyes gleamed with excitement at the confirmation. "Of course, of course!" he exclaimed, his excitement barely contained. He quickly took the book, handling it with care, and began to prepare it for packing, eager to fulfill the request.

It was a fleeting decision, a purchase made on a whim. One he had yet to realize would reshape his life, disrupting its clockwork rhythm. A choice beyond his comprehension.

Lucien lay sprawled on the velvet sofa, eyes closed, the book resting lightly in his hands. The fire crackled softly, its embers glowing like dying stars, filling the room with a gentle warmth. Shadows danced along the walls, shifting and stretching as if alive, their movements slow and hypnotic.

A strange sense of stillness settled over him, as if he stood at the precipice of something vast and unseen.

He had never been one to chase after fate, nor did he intend to alter what was already set in motion. And yet, as he lay there, he couldn't shake the feeling that the pages within held something…..something that would pull him deeper into the unknown.

- - - - - -

The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the garden, filtering through the branches of the tall trees. A light breeze carried the scent of fresh flowers, rustling the neatly trimmed hedges that enclosed the estate grounds.

Beneath the shade of a grand pavilion, Jane and Sophia sat comfortably, their cushioned chairs arranged around a delicate tea table adorned with fine porcelain. The maids moved quietly in the background, tending to their needs with practiced grace, refilling tea cups and adjusting the pastries on the silver tray.

Jane sat in a relaxed yet absent-minded posture, her elbow propped on the armrest, fingers lightly supporting her cheek. Her rich brown locks cascaded down her shoulders, catching the sunlight as they swayed gently with the breeze. A deep, faraway look settled in her crimson eyes, making it clear that she wasn't entirely present in the conversation.

Sophia, on the other hand, was far more engaged, lifting an ornate teacup to eye level and examining the delicate gold patterns that curled along its rim. She turned it slightly, watching how the light reflected off its fine surface.

"I don't think I've seen one like this before. Did it come from that merchant from the East?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "I heard he recently returned from his voyage. Did he make his way to Marcellus first to sell his wares?"

Jane responded with nothing more than a low hum, barely acknowledging the question. Her gaze remained locked on the figures of Lucien and her uncle John, who were walking toward a sleek black car parked at the edge of the garden. It wasn't difficult to guess that they were off for business.

For some time now, Uncle John had been taking Lucien under his wing, teaching him the intricacies of their trade. What irritated Jane the most was that Lucien always excelled, no matter what task was placed before him.

Despite being only a year older than her, he carried himself with the composure of someone far beyond his age. Jane's lips curled into a small pout of annoyance.

"Helloooo?" Sophia's voice dragged her back to the present.

Jane blinked and turned to her friend, only to find Sophia smirking. "Are you listening to me, or are you having a full conversation with that flower pot?" she teased.

Jane straightened, feigning innocence. "What were you saying?"

Sophia followed her previous line of sight and caught a glimpse of Lucien stepping into the car beside his father. A knowing look flashed across her face before she turned back to Jane.

"Try not to get on Lucien's bad side. It won't do you any favors," she advised with a smile.

Jane's expression remained pleasant, but a flicker of irritation passed through her eyes. "When have I ever?" she asked in a sickeningly sweet voice, masking her true feelings.

"If not, then never mind." Sophia took a slow sip of her tea, her amusement barely hidden.

Jane didn't respond, offering only a half-hearted smile before returning her gaze to the table.

A moment later, Sophia tilted her head thoughtfully. "What about your brother, Noah? Where is he now?" she asked, her tone carrying a hint of curiosity. "He should spend more time with us. It would help him blend into the family better."

Jane exhaled through her nose, fingers tapping lightly against the table. "It is not my duty to monitor his schedule," she replied smoothly. "Whatever he does is of no concern to me."

Sophia watched her carefully, her lips curving slightly as she noticed the subtle shift in Jane's expression. The mask was slipping, just a little.

The maids continued their duties around them, carefully ensuring that nothing was out of place. They moved with precision, their steps light, as if wary of disrupting the delicate atmosphere between the two girls.

Jane sighed, leaning back in her chair. "It's just a thought," she muttered. "But I think Brother Lucien is really… strange."

Sophia blinked at the sudden statement, momentarily taken aback. She set her teacup down gently. "Strange?" she repeated, her voice carefully neutral. "What makes you say that?"

Jane hesitated, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she considered her words. Her fingers traced the rim of her teacup absentmindedly.

"It's just…" she trailed off, eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "He doesn't act like someone his age. He's too intelligent, too composed. I've never seen him lose his temper, not even once."

Sophia remained silent, studying Jane with mild intrigue as she stirred her tea slowly.

"Was this supposed to be a glowing tribute to Lucien?" she asked flatly.

"No!" Jane snapped, sitting up straighter. "I'm saying he's unnatural! Always wearing that same polite smile, like he's never fazed by anything."

Sophia nearly laughed at the irony. Look who's talking.

Jane huffed, her fingers tightening slightly around the porcelain cup. "And the strangest thing is something I noticed….that day."

Sophia arched a brow. "Oh?"

"You know… the day Noah arrived. Everyone was in chaos. Even my mother lost her composure and said some harsh words to Uncle John."

Sophia smirked. "Right, and you were crying like a child."

"I was not!" Jane shot back, cheeks flushing. "Anyway, that day… I saw it."

Sophia's playful expression shifted to mild curiosity. "Saw what?"

Jane hesitated, as if reluctant to say it out loud. But after a moment, she leaned in slightly and whispered, "I saw Lucien smiling."

Sophia blinked. "That's it? That's hardly unusual."

"Not his usual smile. This was different!"

Jane's voice dropped to a hush. "It was the first time I'd ever seen that expression on him." She paused, the memory playing clearly in her mind. "At first, his eyes widened, like he'd been caught off guard… but then he smiled. It was a smile too wide, stretched almost unnaturally across his face, as if he were utterly, terrifyingly thrilled."

Sophia stilled, her fingers pausing against the handle of her cup.

"Maybe he was just excited to have a younger brother," she said after a moment, though her tone lacked conviction.

Jane shook her head firmly. "I'm telling you, it wasn't that."

Sophia gave her a placating smile. "Yes, yes."

Jane frowned, frustrated by the dismissal.

But Sophia remained silent, her mind turning.

Perhaps Jane was being overly dramatic. But her words lingered in Sophia's mind, refusing to be ignored.

Sophia narrowed her eyes slightly, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her teacup as if deep in thought. The image of Lucien's supposed smile played in her head, but she quickly dismissed it with a quiet breath. Jane is just imagining things.

Deciding not to dwell on it, she straightened her posture and took another sip of tea, letting the warmth soothe her lingering curiosity. The gentle chatter of the maids and the rustling of leaves filled the silence between them. Before long, their conversation shifted to lighter topics as they basked in the warm afternoon sun.