Rowan walked towards Lucien's room, his steps quiet on the highly polished floor. The morning had dawned, casting gentle golden light over the estate, but the room he entered was anything but warm.
Lucien was still wearing his ceremonial swan-white robes from the night before, the originally immaculate fabric now faintly rumpled, his outer robe thrown over the chair next to him. There was a hint of alcohol in the air, the table next to him covered with an open bottle and a drained glass.
Without looking up, Lucien held out a hand to Rowan, waiting for sothing to be put in it. But he felt nothing being kept on his hand.
He scowled without looking at his confidant.
Still nothing.
Lucien finally raised his blue eyes just to see that Rowan was standing in front of him, but his thoughts were elsewhere. His eyes were faraway, his face blank, and most oddly thing was that his hand was absentmindedly stroking his left cheek.
Lucien narrowed his eyes at him.
Then, having no patience for foolishness, he snatched up a nearby chess piece and flipped it directly at Rowan.
The little piece hit Rowan's arm, jolting him out of his trance.
"Ow..."Rowan jerked back, automatically retracting his arm. He glared at Lucien, his brows knitting. "Was that really necessary, my lord?"
Lucien relaxed back, his elbow resting on the armrest, regarding him with a slight smile. "More than you need to. What in the world are you thinking?"
Rowan straightened his back, quickly regaining his composure. "Nothing, my lord. Nothing at all."
Lucien didn't believe him.
His keen eyes darted to the scrolls Rowan had been carrying for so ti now.
"From the manner in which you're standing there, I'm guessing you're not here rely to waste my ti. Give the scrolls."
Rowan cleared his throat and stepped forward, finally presenting the docunts.
Lucien accepted one of the required scrolls, unrolling it lazily, but before he could attend to it, Rowan held back.
"My lord..."Rowan started.
Lucien humd in acknowledgnt, still scanning the parchnt in his hands.
"I t Lady Liora on my way here."
Lucien's eyes lifted slightly, though he said nothing.
Rowan shifted, scratching the back of his head. "She asked for a tour of the estate."
This ti, Lucien's gaze fully rose from the scroll.
He looked at Rowan.
Rowan, noticing the change in Lucien's focus, raised his hands in protest at once. "I already sent a servant to escort her," he promised. "And I made certain she was told not to go into any off-limits areas."
Lucien paused, considering. Then, with a sigh, he stood up from his chair, moving towards the window.
He could see the gardens below from there. Three figures walked along the stone pathway, the sunlight creating soft glows on their robes. Liora went in front, her maids walking behind her, a step or two behind.
Lucien observed her for a brief ti, his eyes unreadable.
Rowan advanced beside him, crossing his arms. "My lord, I sense this girl is not involved in the play that we are contemplating a plot."
The lips of Lucien pressed together before a brief laugh escaped him.
"You think so?" His tone contained soft skepticism.
Rowan nodded. "I do. She doesn't appear to be soone with a hidden agenda."
Lucien turned his gaze back toward the garden. "That's where you're wrong."
Rowan frowned.
Lucien leaned against the window fra, watching the girl below as she looked around, taking in the vast estate.
"No one can be trusted, Rowan. Especially not a woman sent here by my mother."
Rowan was about to argue, but Lucien spoke first.
"Let her enjoy herself. Such girls dream of wealth and comfort. She's just basking in luxury."
He gave a soft scoff.
"She'll learn soon enough that not every dream cos true."
Lucien's eyes lingered over the garden for a mont longer, observing as Liora strode in front of her maids, absorbing the views of the estate. Her presence was like an unwelco visitor to his already damaged life and another piece moved out onto the board by his mother, as though she had the right to ddle.
This thought made scorn escape his mouth.
"Rowan," he muttered, his voice steady but tempered with silent power. "Tell Beatrice to make a use of this concubine while she stays. I've no money to spend on one foisted on against my will."
Rowan cast him a glance, his face impassive, but he just nodded. "As you wish, my lord."
Lucien shifted away from the window, striding back toward his chair, his movents slow and deliberate. As he sat, he leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees.
"And from now on," he went on, "take care of any problems involving her yourself. Don't bother reporting to or taking up my ti with news. She isn't worth that much effort."
Rowan's lips thinned to a line, but he replied smoothly. "Yes, my lord."
Lucien waved his hand negligently before continuing, "But be certain she doesn't wander into the rooms on the other side of the hall. That side of the estate is restricted."
Rowan bowed slightly. "Understood."
Lucien exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Now, back to business. Are there any updates from the court?"
Rowan's expression turned serious as he shook his head. "No, my lord. There's been no word."
Lucien's brows knit together slightly. "No news?"
"None." Rowan frowned. "We've always received accurate reports, but it's been three days, and we've heard nothing."
A sharp silence settled between them.
Then Rowan's eyes went wide as a realization hit him. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "My lord... what if he's been caught?"
Lucien's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched as he thought over the possibilities.
"No." His tone was resolute. "That's not possible."
Rowan remained hesitant to his lord's assumptions. "But if sothing happened to him..."
"The one who's hiding in the court wouldn't let this go." Lucien's voice was low, but his tone was clear-cut, cutting. "If our ssenger was captured, they would have been using him against by now. The quiet is deliberate."
Rowan took a deep breath; his fair fingers were tightening into fists.
Lucien sat back, his eyes black with consideration. "Before we discover who's manipulating from behind the scenes, I must go back into the court. But being disbarred is preventing from doing anything."
He cocked his head to one side, his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. "And that is precisely what they want."
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