A Gaze That Lingers

The girl stood frozen, her heart pounding against her ribs as the weight of Lucian's gaze held her in place. The battlefield, the wounded, the distant murmurs of gratitude, they all faded into a quiet hum, overshadowed by the suffocating silence between them. Her amber eyes, usually guarded, trembled under the intensity of his stare. She could not understand it—why did his eyes make her feel so seen, so exposed, yet so strangely warm?

Her hands instinctively clutched at the fabric of her dress, trying to steady herself. Almost reflexively, she shifted her posture, tilting her head slightly so that the strands of her hair concealed the scar on her face. What if he saw it? A cold dread pooled in her chest. Would he turn away in disgust, just like the others? Her mind clung to a whirlwind of emotions—fear, longing, shame, and something unfamiliar, something she couldn't quite name.

 "I should thank them", she said in her mind. "It is the proper thing to do... A noble lady always upholds etiquette, no matter the circumstance... And yet, the words are caught in my throat." She talked to herself in her mind as her lips parted, but hesitation wrapped around her like chains.

Lucian…

That name echoed in her mind. It had been so long. Too long. And now, standing before him again, she found herself unable to speak.

Her stepmother's voice resounded in her head, cold and scornful. "Don't embarrass yourself, Sayuri. You are an eyesore."

She forced herself to move, taking a deep breath. Lowering her gaze, she bent her knees slightly and lifted the hem of her dress—a formal curtsy, the proper noble gesture of gratitude. "Thank you…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. But the moment she tried to meet his gaze again, her composure wavered. A burning sensation pricked at her throat. Her fingers tightened around the fabric. She just wanted to disappear.

Yet, deep inside, another feeling clawed at her. Talk to him. The urge was unfamiliar, almost foreign. She had spent years resigning herself to fate, accepting her place as an unwanted shadow. Why now? Why do I suddenly want to reach out? To say more?

But she couldn't.

Lucian's gaze lingered for a moment before he gave a single nod, his expression was unreadable. "You're safe now."

Sayuri's chest tightened. That voice… It was deeper than she remembered, steadier, yet there was something gentle hidden beneath its coldness. He had changed. Or perhaps, she was only now seeing him properly.

She barely registered Magnus' voice as he spoke with Lucian, offering words of approval and wisdom. Sayuri could not bring herself to listen. Her focus remained solely on Lucian—the way his fingers rested on the hilt of his sword, the way the wind tousled his dark hair, the way his presence alone seemed to drown out the rest of the world.

Then, after ensuring their safety, they turned to leave.

Her heart lurched. No… wait…

"I haven't even introduced myself", she murmured. He was walking away, and she had let the moment slip past her fingers like grains of sand. Will I ever see him again?

Sayuri clenched her fists, swallowing down the lump in her throat as she watched his retreating figure. A quiet whisper filled her thoughts, one she had never dared to entertain before.

If fate is kind… perhaps, one day, I will have the courage to say more.

To Be Continued…