The Mask Beneath the Mask

Under the glow of golden chandeliers, the entire hall looked like a shimmering canvas. The clink of crystal glasses, the soft notes of classical music, and the slow, hushed conversations of nobles — everything felt like a royal dream.

Lucain stood amidst a small but powerful group of nobles — exactly where he was supposed to be, but nowhere close to where he wanted to be in his heart.

Around him stood:

Duke grim ford — a tall, bald noble with a polished monocle, wearing a deep green coat decorated with the raven insignia.

Lady Belmira — draped in a lavender silk gown, radiating cold elegance. There was a hidden political calculation in her eyes.

Sir Aldros — clad in a red military tunic, a rugged soldier whose facial scars screamed his battlefield history.

Lucain was a silent contrast among them — graceful, controlled, and emotionally distant.

Duke Vernhart looked at Lucain like a chess player sizing up his opponent.

> "So, House Sylverin finally sent its heir to court. Your reputation walks faster than you, Lord Lucain — especially in this court."

Lady Belmira slowly rotated her wine glass, then added:

> "A man of few words... in a palace full of mouths. Interesting balance."

Sir Aldros smirked slightly and said:

> "In halls like these, it's not the noise, but the silence that leaves an impact. You're doing it right, Doctor."

Lucain gave a slight smile — polite, but distant from any emotional depth.

> "Sometimes… silence speaks louder truths."

Lord Gregory, who was standing beside him, took a sip and said with a soft smile:

> "Just remember, Lucain… these halls are as sharp-eared as they are beautiful."

Lucain tilted his neck slightly and replied:

> "And if those ears only listen from behind, that means I'm still useful."

Everyone smiled a little — it was that diplomatic laughter, hiding both appreciation and caution.

Just then, a royal guard quietly entered from the side door of the hall and whispered something into Gregory's ear.

Gregory's expression instantly shifted — from warm to serious.

> "Lucain, I must leave at once for an urgent matter. Until I return, please... take care of them."

Lucain bowed his head slightly.

> "Of course, my lord."

Gregory adjusted his cloak and left the hall — leaving Lucain as the lone royal representative in the room.

As Gregory left, more nobles gathered around him — small talk, formal greetings, artificial smiles.

But Lucain was searching for only one thing in them… depth. And none of them had it.

And then…

A soft, but clear and familiar voice came from behind — like someone had opened an old door inside time:

> "So… even after all this, you're still the same, Lord Lucain."

Lucain slowly turned his head.

A masked woman… stood before him.

Wearing a flowing gown in midnight black and deep garnet hues — every step, every shadow around her felt like a forgotten poem. Her eyes were hidden behind a delicate lace mask, but something in those eyes stirred something within Lucain — a pain he had long buried.

From his lips came a whisper:

> "Lady Marianne… you?"

It wasn't a shock — it was a memory.

Like someone had broken the inner seal… and that night, that moment, that name had come alive again.

Lucain stared at her for a second — that expressionless mask, that familiar stance… everything was just the same.

The nobles were still around, but their voices faded into the background, like a movement in a symphony slipping into sudden silence.

Lucain looked at them and said with a formal smile:

> "Excuse me… I must meet someone important."

He set his wine glass on the table and walked toward Lady Marianne.

She faced him with a soft smile — but there was something else in her eyes. Like an ancient ship buried under the ocean.

> "It's been a long time, Doctor Lucain," her voice still had that silky warmth, but now there was a hint of tiredness… a trace of collected resentment.

Lucain, walking beside her, replied:

> "Yes… it's been a while. Perhaps some lives walk in hiding, and some people… even more so."

They were now walking toward one side of the hall, away from the crowd. The chandeliers' light moved with them, as if the entire hall was observing just the two of them.

Marianne tilted her head slightly and looked at him:

> "I remember… the last time we met, you said you weren't used to so much glitz and glamour. So seeing all this now… is it a shock? Does court life suit you, or do you just endure it?"

Lucain gave a faint, tired smile:

> "This is just… another mask for survival. Like everyone wears."

Marianne picked up a wine glass from a table, and offered another to Lucain:

> "Try it. The red wine here is old… but memories are even stronger."

Lucain took the glass. Took a sip. There was a flicker in his eyes — perhaps from the taste, or from a buried memory.

Marianne was now standing very close. She leaned near his ear and softly said:

> "Do you remember… you once made me a promise?"

A vision flashed before Lucain's eyes…

Lucain, separated from Clearia and Shopia, enters an old bookshop. Inside, the air carried the faint scent of dust, sandalwood, and old books. Lucain pushed open the door and stepped in — the wooden floor gave a faint creak.

And then… he saw her.

Behind the counter, stood a stunning woman — wrapped in a midnight blue dress, hair perfectly pinned up, and a confident smile gracing her sharp cheekbones.

She was so composed… it felt like every eye would stop just for her.

Lucain approached her.

> "Excuse me… can you tell me where I can find medical and herbal books?"

The woman looked at him with a soft smile — something in her eyes was… inviting, teasing.

> "In the far corner of the store,"

Then, pausing briefly, with a soft smile —

"Come… I'll help you."

She turned — and Lucain followed behind her.

She walked without turning and smiled slightly:

> "By the way… are you a doctor?"

Lucain smirked lightly and replied:

> "Yes… but I don't just heal the body, I treat the heart and mind too."

Marianne's steps slowed — like his reply had caught her full attention. Her waistline subtly revealed itself as her dress shifted with her steps.

She stopped at a corner — where it was slightly dim and filled with old books.

She bent down and pulled out a dusty book — her cleavage was now directly in front of Lucain's eyes, and avoiding it intentionally was no longer possible.

> "What you were looking for… might be in this,"

she said, her voice soft like a breath.

Lucain lightly touched her hand and took the book — the contact wasn't long… but the body instantly felt it.

> "Thank you,"

he said — eyes locked in a lingering pause.

Marianne looked at him for a moment… then smiled:

> "Oh yes… one more thing…"

She slowly leaned toward her cleavage — and from between her breasts, pulled out an old, sealed scroll.

Lucain's throat went a little dry.

She extended the scroll toward Lucain, but the gesture carried a deliberate sensuality — as if every moment was now happening in slow motion.

> "This contains the info… you truly seek…"

Lucain reached out — but just as his fingers were about to touch the scroll, Marianne pulled it back.

> "Every information… has a price, doctor."

Lucain leaned in slightly, eyes glowing with heat:

> "Then tell me… what do I have to give?"

Marianne stepped even closer — her breath now brushing against Lucain's collarbone.

She slowly licked her lips, then gently dragged her hand down Lucain's chest.

> "Every price is different… sometimes a night… And sometimes… even a night isn't enough…"

Lucain placed his hand on her waist — and pulled her closer.

His fingers now slowly moved down her lower back.

Marianne's face turned red, her breath quickened. She was now almost pressed against his chest.

Lucain placed his other hand gently on her cheek — and then moved it behind her neck, pulling her face close.

He moved toward her ear and whispered:

> "So this deal… seems fair to you?"

Marianne's eyelashes trembled, her lips barely under control.

Lucain slowly moved his lips from behind her ear… to her lips…

But just before the kiss…

He suddenly pulled back — and took the scroll from her hand.

> "Maybe… next time."

Marianne stepped back suddenly — like a cold wave had touched her.

She stumbled a little — leaned against the bookshelf and sank down.

Her face flushed, breath erratic, and a light sweat on her forehead.

She whispered:

> "You bad boy… doctor…"

Lucain smiled slightly and said:

> "I promise… we'll finish what we started."

Marianne composed herself a little, avoiding eye contact, and said:

> "Lucain. Lu… Lucain?"

Lucain blanked out for a moment — like waking from a trance.

> "Huh… Lady Marianne…"

She smiled — a little naughty, a little exposed…

> "So you remembered everything?"

Lucain grew a little serious, with a calm honesty in his eyes:

> "Everything's fine… But I don't think… you came just to remind me of that."

---

TO BE CONTINUE.....