A TASTE OF DECEPTION

The grand dining hall flickered with the soft glow of candlelight, casting long shadows across the polished ebony floors.

The chandeliers overhead dripped with crystal, reflecting the crimson glow of blood-filled goblets resting upon the lavish table.

A feast had been laid out; succulent meats, delicately arranged altered fruits, and, most prominently, an array of crystal decanters filled with varying shades of deep red.

Selene sat at the head of the table, elegantly poised, her aquamarine eyes lazily following the soft swirl of liquid in her glass.

It smelled intoxicating; rich, velvety, like the very essence of power distilled into its purest form.

Yet, something in her hesitated.

She couldn't remember the last meal she had, but that didn't trouble her. Of course, she had always dined like this. She had no reason to question it.

Her fingers traced the rim of the goblet absently.

Across from her, Lucian sat in composed silence, watching.

The presence of the maids barely registered, speaking in murmurs that Selene barely cared to decipher.

Their hushed conversations blended into the ambient crackle of the fireplace, a symphony of comfort she had never once questioned.

Until now.

Her gaze drifted down to the plate before her. The meat, delicately seared and glistening with rich juices, was artfully rare; practically bleeding onto the fine porcelain.

Selene lifted her knife, slicing through the flesh with an ease that felt practiced.

Something stirred deep inside her.

A flicker.

An image...

A different meal. A different table. But no chandeliers, no lavish settings. Just cold stone, dim candlelight, and the metallic scent of iron.

The scrape of a dull spoon against a tin plate.

The warmth of a hand passing a bowl across the table, calloused fingers, human fingers. The sound of quiet laughter, rough and weary but real.

Selene's fingers paused.

A sudden, sharp breath; almost a gasp.

Lucian's voice cut through the quiet. "Something wrong?"

Her gaze snapped up, meeting his.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes; those piercing silver eyes, searched her intently, watching for a crack in the illusion.

Selene hesitated, then let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "No. I just… had the oddest feeling of déjà vu."

Lucian's lips curled slightly at the corners, the barest hint of a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "A fleeting thing. Nothing to dwell on."

She nodded, exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Yes. Of course. Nothing to dwell on.

Selene lifted the goblet to her lips and drank.

The first sip sent a slow heat coursing through her veins.

It was… exhilarating.

Like a rush of something ancient and primal, coiling around her senses, whispering of power, of belonging.

She sighed, closing her eyes for the briefest moment as warmth settled into her chest.

When she looked up again, Lucian was still watching her.

A silent understanding passed between them, one she couldn't quite name.

But whatever it was,

It was enough to make the flicker of doubt vanish.

Selene swirled the remaining blood in her goblet, watching the liquid catch the dim candlelight.

The warmth from her meal lingered in her veins, but something heavier pressed on her chest, an unease she couldn't place.

She set her drink down gently, her gaze drifting toward Lucian.

His posture was as composed as ever, one arm resting on the table, his fingers curled lightly around his own untouched goblet.

He was watching her again; not in an overt way, but with a quiet intensity, as though waiting for something.

Selene hesitated, gnawing lightly on her lower lip.

"Lucian…" she finally murmured, her voice softer than she intended.

His silver eyes flicked up to hers.

She shifted in her seat, feeling strangely small beneath his gaze. "Are you… angry with me?"

Lucian's brow lifted ever so slightly. "Why would I be?"

Selene averted her eyes, toying with the napkin in her lap. "I don't know. I just… I woke up today feeling like something was wrong between us. Like we fought before I hit my head."

Lucian went still.

For a long moment, he said nothing, his expression unreadable.

Selene swallowed hard. "Did I upset you?" Her voice was barely above a whisper now. "Is that why I woke up in my own chambers and not… yours?"

Lucian's grip on his goblet tightened.

Selene bit her lip, her eyes pleading. "If I did something, I don't remember. But I don't want you to be angry. Please… if I hurt you, tell me how to fix it."

Lucian exhaled slowly, setting his goblet down with deliberate care. Then, as if realizing the tension in his own body, he leaned back in his chair, schooling his features into something calmer.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he said at last. "And we didn't fight."

Selene's shoulders loosened, but only slightly. "Then… why do I feel like something is missing?"

Lucian hesitated. There was no easy answer to that.

The truth hung between them, unsaid, a phantom pressing against the edges of Selene's fragile reality.

She should have been his enemy.

She should have despised him.

But now, she sat across from him, desperate for his reassurance.

Lucian studied her, the warmth in her golden eyes, the genuine concern on her face. The system had done its job well. Too well.

"Your injury must have been more severe than you realize," he finally said, his voice smooth, carefully controlled. "The memories will come back in time. But you were never meant to wake up anywhere else."

Selene blinked. "Then…?"

A slow smirk curled his lips, though there was something unreadable in his gaze.

"Perhaps I wanted to see how much you would miss me."

Selene let out a breathy laugh, relief flooding her features. "You're terrible."

Lucian tilted his head slightly, silver eyes gleaming. "Am I?"

Selene shook her head, her smile lingering. "Just promise me you won't stay angry at me, even if I forget something important, you scared me today."

Lucian leaned forward, resting his chin against his palm, his gaze steady. "You have my word."

A promise wrapped in something far more dangerous.

Because if she ever did remember.

It would be the one promise he could never keep.