I stood frozen in the middle of what had to be the most unnecessarily massive living hall I’d ever seen.
Marble floors glead beneath my shoes, tall windows frad with velvet drapes reached almost to the ceiling, and golden chandeliers hung like they had personal grudges against gravity. A staircase curled elegantly toward the upper floors, lined with silver railing that looked like it belonged in a royal palace rather than soone’s ho.
’So this is what a royal residence looks like in the book,’ I thought, wide-eyed. ’Even the air slls expensive.’
Lucian’s house or mansion, or castle, or whatever was quiet. Too quiet. Not even servants in sight. Just the faint hum of magic in the walls, a kind of gentle vibration that made the air feel alive.
Before I could even process how big this place was, Lucian’s deep voice ca from behind .
"Are you done staring, Lady Celeste?"
I nearly jumped out of my borrowed heels. "I—uh, just... taking it all in. You live here alone?"
Lucian’s voice ca from behind , low and steady. "Nope, they’re here."
I turned, startled. "Here? Where?"
He adjusted his cufflinks, tone calm as ever. "They know when to make themselves scarce."
And right on cue, I noticed the faintest movent of a maid’s shadow retreating around the corner, another pretending to polish a vase ten ters away before disappearing entirely.
’Oh,’ I thought grimly. ’So they’re alive... just smart enough to hide from their boss.’
Lucian gestured toward the grand staircase. "Co, Lady Celeste. I’ll show you your room."
Your room.
Comforting words... until I saw the room.
The door opened to reveal a chamber so extravagant it could’ve been lifted straight out of a royal fantasy spread. Silk curtains draped in soft folds, gold trim glimring under warm candlelight... and one, very large, very luxurious bed right in the center of it all.
I froze.
"Wait. That’s... a really big bed," I managed, blinking.
Lucian stepped inside, his tone calm, almost casual. "Hmm. I’m not comfortable with smaller ones. My height doesn’t quite fit."
I nodded automatically, eyes darting from him. Easily over six feet, to the enormous bed that sohow didn’t feel enormous enough.
Then it hit .
"Hold on—did you just say..." I lifted a hand, gesturing helplessly between him and the bed. "You an we’re sleeping in the sa room? And that sa damn bed?"
I pointed accusingly at the poor, innocent mattress like it had personally betrayed .
Lucian didn’t even blink. "Naturally."
"Naturally?" I repeated, my voice pitching higher than I’d like.
He brushed it off as though I’d just asked whether the sky was blue. "It’s expected. The bride stays with the groom before the wedding... it’s tradition."
I blinked at him. Then at the bed. Then back at him.
’Tradition, my phoenix feathers,’ I thought. ’You just want to make combust from sheer awkwardness.’
Lucian moved past with quiet ease, setting his coat neatly over a chair, completely unfazed by my visible internal crisis. "You don’t have to worry," he added lightly. "I don’t bite."
I raised my brows then let out an awkward laughter, "Sure, you don’t bite..." then I turned and gritted my teeth, "Who knows you might freeze to death after..."
Lucian’s low chuckle filled the space, smooth and quiet, the kind that sohow made the room feel even smaller. "Freeze you to death? That would defeat the purpose of keeping you alive, wouldn’t it?"
I whipped around, staring at him like he’d just said the most suspiciously ominous thing ever. "Ah... did you hear that?" I muttered, forcing a tight smile and rolling my eyes like it was just so harmless joke.
"Of course," he replied smoothly, unbothered. "My hearing is rather sharp. Thank goodness, or I might’ve missed that charming accusation."
I crossed my arms, trying not to show how flustered I was. "Well, it wasn’t exactly an accusation. More like... a general statent of concern."
Lucian tilted his head slightly, that calm, unreadable smile never leaving his face. "Concern noted," he said lightly, stepping closer until he stood just near enough that I could feel the cool aura radiating from him. "You really do talk too much when you’re nervous, Lady Celeste."
My throat went dry. "I’m not nervous," I lied, inching backward a little, only to bump into the edge of the ridiculously massive bed. Great. Trapped by furniture and a dragon.
Lucian’s eyes flicked down briefly, noticing my discomfort, but his tone remained polite, almost teasing. "You don’t have to look so alard. I won’t touch you without permission."
I blinked rapidly, unsure whether to be relieved or even more suspicious. "You say that like there’s a situation where I’d give permission," I muttered under my breath.
He smirked, that faint, knowing glint flashing in his icy blue eyes. "Well... a week isn’t that long, right?"
My brain flatlined. For a full two seconds, I just stood there, staring at him, wondering if I’d misheard. "Excuse ?" I finally managed, my voice squeaking like a broken flute.
Lucian tilted his head slightly, that small, knowing smile tugging at his lips as if my reaction was precisely what he’d expected. "Our wedding," he murmured, leaning closer just enough for his scent, crisp and faintly cold to brush the air between us. Then, with infuriating ease, he reached out and tapped the tip of my nose lightly. The gesture was maddeningly calm... and, worse, charming.
"You might feel differently by then," he added, voice soft but threaded with that teasing confidence that made my heart forget its rhythm for half a beat.
I blinked, stunned, then blurted, "Feel differently? About you? Oh, you’re definitely overestimating your odds, Mr. Ice Dragon."
His smirk widened, eyes gleaming in quiet amusent. "We’ll see about that later, little phoenix."
"No..." I stomped my foot, forgetting for a second that I was standing in front of a dragon who could probably end with a flick of his finger. "No later. For now—I’ll sleep in another room."
Lucian didn’t even blink. "No."
The single word ca out calm but sharp, slicing through my protest like a blade of ice.
He lood over , his tone firm and final. "Sleep here. There is no other option."
My mouth opened, then closed again. I glanced toward the grand bed, then at the door, calculating my odds of escape and imdiately realized both options involved dying in different ways.
I took one cautious step back, hugging my arms around myself.
"Fine," I muttered. "But don’t you dare cross the line."
Lucian’s lips curved, not into a smile, but sothing colder.
"What line?" he murmured, and in the next heartbeat, the candles flickered out.
Instantly, darkness swallowed the room.
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