Chapter 10: Lucius Reminiscing

The heavy wooden door of the room creaked open, and a servant entered, bowing low to the ground. "Lord Lucius," the servant began, "Your presence is requested by Uncle Marcus."

Lucius gave a slight nod, still resting against the back of the chair, his eyes momentarily drifting toward the window. The sky outside was cloudy, the promise of a storm hanging in the air. It had been days since they'd arrived in Kardia, and every inch of his body ached. The trip from Ironclad Hold had worn him down, and his wound still throbbed in his arm despite the bandages. But, as always, duty came first.

"I'll be there shortly," Lucius replied with a short gesture, dismissing the servant.

The servant bowed again and left, closing the door behind them.

Lucius turned back to his companions. Dorian and Castor, the twins who were practically inseparable, were engaged in a heated argument, as usual. This time, it was over something as trivial as the best way to sharpen a blade. Ulderic, who had been sitting quietly near the corner, leaned forward with a tired sigh.

"Honestly, you two could argue about anything, couldn't you?" Ulderic muttered, his tone weary but with an affectionate lilt.

"Only because Castor still thinks he knows better," Dorian shot back, his sharp eyes narrowing at his twin. "Just admit it—you can't even hold a sword properly!"

Castor laughed, unbothered by his brother's jab. "You can barely walk without tripping over your own feet. Don't act like you know anything about proper technique."

Lucius leaned back, crossing his arms and allowing the bickering to wash over him. He'd grown used to their constant back-and-forth. It wasn't long before the argument started to escalate, their voices growing louder as Ulderic rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning his sword. The playful tension between the two of them was familiar and, strangely, comforting. In a world where everything was always shifting, it was good to have something constant.

But Lucius' thoughts wandered away from the noise, back to something—someone—that had been haunting him for a while now.

It was a long time ago, the first time he saw her.

He was still young, only a boy at the time, she was with her the Grand Minister Marcus. She had been no older than six or seven, dancing in the palace courtyard. Her movements had been nothing like the stiff, structured performances he'd seen from the noblewomen. No, this little girl had danced with a freedom, a grace, that seemed to belong to another world.

Lucius had watched her, mesmerized by her fluidity. He had never seen anyone move with such raw elegance, and for some reason, it stuck with him. The sight of her, wild and unrestrained in her movements, had somehow burned itself into his memory.

He shook his head slightly, remembering. How little did he know, then, that he would see her again under entirely different circumstances.

It had been many years before their paths crossed again. This time, she was different—grown, and yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that the girl he had watched dance in the palace courtyard was still somehow inside her.

Cassia was a young woman now, no longer a child, but the moment he saw her in Aurelia at that festival, the sight of her dancing brought everything rushing back. She had the same fire, the same wildness in her movements, and a strange part of him had felt an undeniable pull toward her, like fate was guiding his steps.

He watched her from the shadows, his heart thrumming in his chest, as she spun and moved under the pale moonlight.

It wasn't until later, after he'd seen her disappear into the night, that he started paying attention to the whispers around her. Whispers that shouldn't have been there, whispers of danger, of enemies lurking too close to her. Something dark was following her, and Lucius knew he had to do something.

The whispers turned into warnings. His sources—ones he trusted—began speaking of an important figure in Aurelia who was in danger. That figure was Cassia.

It wasn't just idle gossip. Lucius, with all his training and connections, sensed that something was wrong. The whispers were more than just rumors; they were a sign of imminent danger. Cassia had drawn attention—dangerous attention.

He made a decision that even now he couldn't fully explain. He couldn't let her be caught in whatever dark plot was brewing around her. So, he did what was necessary. He went to her.

The night of the kidnapping was calm, almost serene. She was on her way to a meeting, unaware of the eyes on her. Lucius had kept his distance until the right moment. His men had ensured the route was clear, the streets empty. He had to move quickly.

It had been easy to slip in, and harder still to keep her quiet as he bundled her into the carriage. Cassia had tried to escape, but unbeknownst to her I was already behind her with a sleeping rug. I carried her to my horse and positioned her safely before I climbed up myself and began the journey to the port.

Lucius, his own voice steady, betraying none of the uncertainty that knotted in his chest. "I'm the one who's going to protect you."

When they set sail, Lucius had kept a careful distance from Cassia, knowing her distrust would be fierce. But in truth, it was more than just distrust. There was something about her—the way her eyes softened, even as she was angry with him.

On the ship, she had asked many questions, some left me speechless. She obviously doesn't trust me, but she's in danger and I can't even tell her why.

"I have to protect you," Lucius whispered to Cassia as she slept. "I'm here to protect you, Cassia. There are people who want to use you for their own ends, and I'm not going to let that happen."

He couldn't explain why he felt so strongly about it. But the answer didn't seem to matter. All that mattered was that she was safe, far away from the shadows that were closing in on her.

...

Lucius snapped back to the present as he was disturbed by a knock at the door. His reflection in the mirror seemed unfamiliar to him for a moment—distant, like he was looking at someone else's face.

The knock was insistent, demanding his attention.

"Lord Lucius, Grand Minister Marcus requests your presence," the servant called again.

Lucius took a deep breath, steadying himself. He had a mission ahead, but no matter what he faced, he couldn't shake the feeling that Cassia's future—and his—were tied together in ways neither of them fully understood.

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