"Not until it was too late."
Lucavion arched a brow.
Aeliana leaned forward slightly, smirking. "There was a banquet. A major diplomatic gathering. I was twelve."
Lucavion's smirk widened. "Oh, this is going to be good."
Aeliana ignored him, continuing, "My father had seated next to so high-ranking officials. The food was extravagant, of course, carefully prepared by the best chefs in the region. But then—one of the foreign ambassadors praised a particular dish, calling it a specialty of his holand."
Lucavion tilted his head. "And?"
Aeliana's smirk turned positively devilish. "And I, without thinking, corrected him."
Lucavion blinked. Then—he laughed. A real, warm chuckle that slipped out before he could stop it. "You corrected an ambassador? At twelve?"
Aeliana shrugged, entirely unapologetic. "I told him that the dish was an imitation. That the seasoning was off, and that the cooking technique didn't match the region's traditional thods." She took a slow sip of her tea. "I also might have suggested that the chef had either mislearned the recipe… or deliberately altered it for a noble palate."
Lucavion stared at her, then shook his head, grinning. "I can only imagine your father's face."
Aeliana chuckled. "He was… stunned. Silent. He just sat there as the ambassador looked at , then at the food, then back at ."
Lucavion leaned forward slightly, his voice filled with amusent. "And the verdict?"
Aeliana smirked. "The ambassador tasted the dish again and agreed with ."
Lucavion exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "Seven hells."
Aeliana humd. "That was the mont my father realized my mother had been doing sothing behind his back. He didn't know whether to be furious or impressed."
Lucavion shook his head, chuckling. "And your mother?"
"She was delighted," Aeliana said, smirking. "She leaned over and whispered, 'Surprise.'"
Lucavion couldn't help but laugh. "She sounds… incredible."
Aeliana's smirk softened slightly. "She was."
For a mont, there was nothing but the quiet clinking of dishes, the distant murmur of the market outside, the warm glow of lanterns casting soft shadows on their table.
Lucavion watched her, his usual teasing smirk tempered by sothing more knowing. "She must have been proud of you."
Aeliana exhaled, her gaze lowering slightly. "I'd like to think so."
Lucavion studied her for a mont before leaning back, smirking again—but this ti, his voice was smoother, lighter. "Well, I suppose I should be grateful. Thanks to her, I'm enjoying the best al I've had in weeks."
Aeliana scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Obviously."
Lucavion chuckled. "And here I thought I was supposed to be the arrogant one."
Aeliana smirked. "You are. But I know when I'm right."
Lucavion exhaled, shaking his head. "Terrifying."
Aeliana took another sip of her tea, her smirk lingering. "You're learning."
Lucavion tilted his cup toward her in a small, amused gesture of acknowledgnt.
For a while, Aeliana remained silent, letting the warmth of her tea settle in her hands. But then—
She noticed it.
The faintest movent of his lips, forming words without sound.
Must have been nice…
Aeliana's fingers stilled against her cup. If not for her skill in reading lips—a necessary talent honed from years of courtly observation—she wouldn't have caught it at all.
Her gaze flickered up, sharp, assessing.
"What must have been nice?"
Lucavion froze for a fraction of a second.
His eyes, which had been lazily focused on the lantern's glow against his cup, snapped to hers. A brief hesitation—barely noticeable, just a flicker—but Aeliana caught it.
He hadn't ant to be heard.
Aeliana tilted her head slightly, her amber eyes unwavering. "You said sothing just now."
Lucavion blinked once. Twice. Then—he exhaled, tilting his head with his usual smirk. "Did I?" His voice was smooth, easy. "Strange, I don't recall."
Aeliana wasn't fooled.
She leaned forward slightly, her expression unreadable. "You did."
Lucavion's fingers drumd lightly against the table. A beat of silence stretched between them.
Then, he clicked his tongue lightly, as if caught in a harmless lie, shaking his head. "You're relentless, aren't you?"
Aeliana didn't smile.
She just held his gaze.
Lucavion's smirk wavered for half a second. Not in defeat, but in realization.
Realization of the fact that Aeliana was not the type to drop these topics.
He exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "It's nothing, really. Just a passing thought."
Aeliana didn't look away. "Try ."
Lucavion hesitated. Not in fear, not in reluctance, but in that rare mont of calculation—deciding whether or not to let her see just a little further past his usual mask.
His smirk returned, lighter this ti, but there was sothing behind it. Sothing quieter.
"…Your mother," he murmured, swirling his tea absentmindedly. "The way you spoke about her." His voice was smooth, unhurried. "The way she taught you things, took you places. The way she challenged your father—not out of defiance, but because she wanted to show him new things." His smirk softened, but his eyes…
There was sothing lancholy there.
Lucavion exhaled, tilting his head as he lifted his cup. "Must have been nice."
Aeliana's fingers curled slightly against the table.
She understood the weight of those words now.
This wasn't just a passing comnt.
It was sothing else.
Sothing that made her want to press on.
'Lucavion doesn't let things slip.'
That was sothing Aeliana had learned quickly. He spoke in layers, wrapped his words in mischief, controlled the conversation with ease. He could turn the sharpest questions into harmless banter, shift the weight of any topic before it beca too real.
So then—
'Why does it feel like he didn't an to say that at all?'
Aeliana had seen many versions of Lucavion. The arrogant wanderer. The playful strategist. The man who teased, who provoked, who always seed to hold the upper hand in every exchange.
But this—this was sothing else.
A glimpse beneath the mask.
And she wasn't about to let it disappear.
She exhaled softly, watching him. His smirk was still there, perfectly in place, but his eyes hadn't caught up to the performance yet.
"Why?" she asked.
Lucavion glanced at her, raising a brow. "Hmm?"
Aeliana tilted her head, her voice asured, smooth. "Why with that face?"
Lucavion blinked.
For a brief second—just a second—his expression faltered.
It was subtle. A flicker in his gaze, a pause in the way he held his cup. Not shock, not even discomfort.
Just pause.
Aeliana didn't miss it.
'There it is.'
She leaned in slightly, her amber eyes never leaving his. "You always have a smirk, don't you?" she murmured. "Always so quick with words, so effortless in how you dodge things."
Lucavion exhaled, his smirk curling back into place as if resetting. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Little Ember."
Aeliana ignored him.
"But just now," she continued, her voice quieter, "you weren't teasing. You weren't making light of it." She studied him carefully. "So why? Why did you say that like that?"
Lucavion clicked his tongue lightly, tilting his head. "Aren't you overthinking this?"
'And there it is. The attempt to shift.'
Aeliana exhaled sharply, crossing her arms. "I don't drop things easily. You should know that by now."
Lucavion chuckled, but it was softer this ti. "Yes, I've suffered greatly because of it."
Aeliana smirked, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Then answer ."
Lucavion t her gaze. And for the first ti in a long while—
He didn't have an imdiate response.
He just looked at her.
And Aeliana realized sothing in that mont.
'I want to know.'
It wasn't just curiosity. Not the simple urge to uncover a secret, to get the last word in a battle of wits.
She wanted to know more about him.
The parts he didn't talk about. The things that made him slip, even for a second.
She wanted to understand.
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