The Games We Play

Lucian was losing his mind.

It had been three days since he dragged Eva back from her reckless escapade in the market, and something had shifted between them.

It wasn't just her usual defiance, nor was it the way she smirked when he scolded her. No—this was something else entirely. Something dangerous.

And the worst part?

She knew it.

Eva was testing him. Toying with him. And every time their gazes lingered too long, or their hands brushed by accident, Lucian felt something coil tight in his chest.

But he refused to acknowledge it.

Absolutely refused.

---

The Breakfast Tension

Eva, of course, was having the time of her life.

She took a slow sip of her tea, watching Lucian across the long dining table. His grip on his goblet was tense, his expression unreadable.

She smirked.

"Something wrong, Sir Lucian?"

His jaw clenched. "No."

Tobias, seated beside Isolde, snickered. "You're scowling more than usual. Did someone upset you?"

Lucian shot him a glare.

Isolde, ever the peacemaker, tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. "So, Cedric, how is your lovely fiancée?"

Tobias immediately lost his grin.

Cedric smiled, sipping his wine. "Lady Eleanor is well. We are to be married in the autumn."

Isolde sighed dreamily. "She's so beautiful. You're lucky."

Tobias nearly choked on his bread.

Eva raised a brow. "You're awfully invested in his engagement."

Isolde waved her off. "It's just—he's everything a nobleman should be! Handsome, intelligent, well-mannered—"

Tobias muttered, "And insufferable."

Cedric didn't even blink. "I heard that."

Tobias grinned. "Good."

Eva fought back a laugh as Isolde shot Tobias a glare. "Honestly, must you always antagonize him?"

"It's a matter of principle."

Lucian sighed, rubbing his temples. "Why do I sit with you people?"

Eva smirked. "Because you secretly enjoy it."

Lucian gave her a look.

And there it was again—that undercurrent of something neither of them wanted to name.

---

The Swordplay Incident

That afternoon, Lucian went to the training yard, hoping to clear his head.

He needed something physical, something brutal to silence the thoughts clawing at his mind.

Unfortunately, the universe hated him.

Because Eva was already there.

She was standing in the center of the yard, twirling a wooden practice sword in her hands. When she saw him, she grinned.

"Sir Lucian."

He groaned. "No."

Her grin widened. "Yes."

Lucian turned to leave, but she called after him, "Scared you'll lose?"

He stopped. Slowly, he turned back, eyes narrowing. "You can barely hold a sword properly."

Eva twirled the blade again. "Then show me."

A dangerous game.

He should've walked away. He should've.

Instead, he picked up a wooden sword and stepped onto the training ground.

The fight lasted longer than expected.

Eva was wild—untrained but quick, unpredictable. Lucian, ever the disciplined knight, fought with precision, but she made him work for every strike.

At some point, they ended up close—too close.

Lucian's grip tightened on his sword as he looked down at her, both of them breathless, sweat glistening on their skin.

Her smirk was softer now. Almost teasing. Almost…

No.

He stepped back. "You need practice."

Eva tilted her head. "You're blushing, Sir Lucian."

"I am not."

She smirked. "Liar."

Lucian turned on his heel and left.

---

Meanwhile, in the Garden…

Tobias was sulking.

Isolde was talking about Cedric again.

"…And then he told me that I had a sharp mind! Can you believe it?"

Tobias picked at the grass beside him. "Fascinating."

Isolde sighed dreamily. "He's just so—"

"Engaged."

She frowned. "Must you remind me?"

"Yes."

She crossed her arms. "You're being unreasonable."

"No, you're being delusional."

She gasped, offended. "I am not!"

Tobias scoffed. "You're obsessed with a man who's set to marry someone else."

Isolde pouted. "I just admire him."

Tobias huffed. "You could admire literally anyone else."

She nudged him. "Oh? And who do you suggest?"

Tobias looked away, scowling. "Someone who isn't Cedric."

Isolde studied him for a moment, then smirked. "Are you jealous?"

Tobias scoffed. "Absolutely not."

She grinned. "You are."

He groaned, flopping onto his back. "I need a drink."

Isolde laughed, poking his cheek. "You're adorable when you sulk."

He swatted her hand away. "I hate you."

"No, you don't."

Unfortunately, she was right.

---

The Nightfall Confession (That Wasn't a Confession)

That evening, Eva found Lucian standing by the castle walls, staring at the stars.

She leaned beside him. "You seem lost in thought."

Lucian exhaled slowly. "You are a menace."

Eva smirked. "And you are a coward."

He looked at her then, eyes dark. "I am not a coward."

She tilted her head. "Then why do you keep running?"

Lucian clenched his jaw. "You are reckless. You frustrate me beyond belief. And you—" He stopped himself.

Eva raised a brow. "And I?"

Silence stretched between them.

Lucian exhaled sharply. "Go to bed, Evangeline."

She smiled softly. "Goodnight, Sir Lucian."

As she walked away, he let out a frustrated sigh.

This was going to be a problem.