SONG RECOMMENDATIONS: POISON BY RITA ORA.
The sound of horses neighing came from a distance amidst the serene silence of the study room.
A knock sounded on the heavy oak door.
"You may enter," came Silas's rich voice.
A guard walked in and bowed before speaking. "Lady Lucinda has returned, my lord."
This paused his scribbling on the parchment, and he raised his head.
The guard was startled to see Silas—the once calm, sophisticated lord—perk up, his eyes gleaming. If saying this wouldn't get his tongue cut off, he would say their lord looked like a puppy eager to meet his owner, tail wagging and all.
"I'll be out to greet her soon. Have Theodore ready for dinner, I'll fetch him on my way."
He leaned back when the guard left. He didn't think having someone report to him when his wife got home was extreme. He did laugh though, imagining the glare she would give him if he addressed her in such a fashion in her presence.
He stood up and began stacking his papers, ready to pick up Theodore and annoy Lucinda about the maid outfit. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face.
His door barged open.
And what he saw was something he thought he would have to keel over and die before experiencing.
Lady Lucinda braced herself against his threshold, chest rising and falling in deep breaths, eyes wide and seeming to stare into space. His brows furrowed in concern, but then a huge smile broke on her face.
Not a grin. Not a smirk. Not condescending.
But a huge, big, almost maniacal smile.
His eyes met briefly with Connor's shocked ones behind her before she broke into animated movements of excitement.
"I can't believe it!" Lucinda began pacing down to him.
Just as he thought she was going to jump into his arms—he would chide himself for that thought later—she turned the other way to continue pacing.
"I—I can't belie—it's like magic." Her eyes were practically glowing. Silas was thrown for a loop.
"It's beautiful, Silas. It's beyond beautiful. She… she breathed life into my hands, Silas."
Her eyes seemed to widen further in disbelief, and she held onto Silas's arms, her grip tight and fueled by so much passion.
He didn't know what was going on, but at that moment it didn't seem to matter.
She was looking up at him with a gaze so different. No suspicion, not annoyance, no wariness.
If he could define her eyes, it looked like hope.
Certainty—that he could understand. See what made her brim with so much joy.
He liked that look. Wanted to see it again. Have her pressed up against him like she would climb him, eyes shining with all the wonder in the world.
"It w-was like nothing I've ever felt… in a long, long time, Silas." Her eyes seemed to glisten. With joy, he was sure of. And he so much wanted to know about it all. About everything that got her this way.
At the corner of his eyes, Connor moved to step into the room to pull Lucinda off. Silas strode across the room in large strides and shut the door in his face.
He rested his back against the door to find her pacing again, rambling about a marketplace, red hair, and the racing of her heart.
Only then did he notice she was covered in mud. He hadn't noticed before—just saw her shining green eyes and smiling red lips, and nothing else seemed to matter.
He just stared at her with hooded eyes, not realizing his heart was racing. His gaze wasn't one filled with lust but with admiration and awe.
The lights in her eyes—he never knew anything that could bring such life. His head rested on the wood, with the soft banging on the other end.
He watched every flicker of emotion across her face, her animated pacing and excitement.
It couldn't be the last time. This unbounded force before him. He realized, in a strange way, that he would do anything to have her remain this way.
No matter the cost.
In his space, she looked like a vibrant flower he wanted to pick and keep with him.
The cost though. The cost. He didn't think of it as he walked to a cabinet, grabbed a sheet, and crossed to her just as she turned on a squeal—and he wrapped her up and into his arms.
"What is it, Lucinda? What brings you such joy?" he whispered against her ear, his lips skimming her lobe.
"I sewed her dress. I felt a fire in me, right here." She pressed a clenched fist to her chest and spoke in a stunned, faraway voice.
"And I liked it." He felt her shift in his arms, and she turned to stare at him, seeming to see all the flecks and how electric his irises seemed.
"It was frightening." His eyes flashed with a memory and softened. He could remember being happy and frightened and full of passion.
It ended in sinister emptiness as he stared at his father's eyes.
Did he look like him? Would her fire die out if she stared into his eyes too? He shook his head to dispel the thought, but she assumed he shook his head at her. And she stammered,
"N-no, look." She shifted and seemed to produce a folded-up large parchment from her dress. He blinked at her as she rested it on his chest, unfolded it, and turned it, pointing at the big bold heading on the crinkled dull paper.
"THE MOST ANTICIPATED FASHION CONTEST OF THE CENTURY IS HERE!!!"
He paused, intrigued. He pulled away to fully read it.
"Dear esteemed reader, with great excitement I would like to inform you that the quadrennial fashion contest is here in the Gerdalion Empire, featuring skilled seamstresses from far and wide. You are all invited to take part—or if you're like me, an avid fan of beauty and entertainment, you are also invited to watch the beautiful display of masterpieces on the cutthroat stage. Featuring several themes and costume contests judged by the very best judges Naria has to offer.
This exciting event will span months, each stage with its victors and eliminated individuals.Ladies and gentlemen, be sure to hold on to your hats and pearls, because we are sweeping through and taking the empire by storm.
Bringing to you another exciting news, our magnificent Queen will be involved for the very first time. And if you're able to win her favor or catch her interest before the competition commences, you are guaranteed to win extra points that might just help you in the competition.
So, my dear beauties of Naria, are you willing to win points or risk elimination for greed?
Notice: Due to the nature of the contest, we require all contestants to be able to travel if the occasion calls for it."
Then the announcement went on to talk about the winner of the previous contest, and the name of the winner read boldly: "VALARIE VERMILLION."
Seeing this name, Silas was sure to see an unhappy Lucinda—only to finally look up and see a wide grin on Lucinda's face.
"This is it, Silas. My chance. This is the moment we've been waiting for. My leeway back into society. My chance for revenge."
"So, you would like to join to get back at Valarie?" Silas inquired.
"No," she shook her head. "Not exactly. Yes, I want to join to ruin Valarie, but that's not the only reason. I would also like to join… for myself," she admitted. She wondered if she could tell him the whole story. Trust him with it. Instead, she decided to say, "Valarie doesn't deserve to win again."
She had a faraway look on her face, and Silas knew she wasn't telling him something—crucial. He took a step in to come into her field of view and entice her to speak. She straightened and wrapped the sheet around her tighter.
"This might be the only opportunity I have to bring upon her downfall. To show just everyone—the whole of Naria—who she truly is. This is a big step to ingrain myself into everything she's ever known."
She began chewing on her bottom lip in thought, and Silas's gaze fell on them. The supple softness and cherry color put him in a trance.
"I also need to find a way to join the socialite women group. Let's face the facts, I'm not any of the women's favorite, so it would be a challenge to find someone of influence other than Valarie to pull me into their circle," she thought, scheming outside, before she sighed and gave a low chuckle. "Now the biggest challenge of all is—how am I, a lady with not much influential standing, going to be able to see the Queen and win those points?"
"You aim to win it?" Silas asked as he looked down once more at the parchment.
Lucinda scoffed. "Is that even a question? I already have. Just as soon as I find a way to her Highness." Silas's gaze darkened at her words, his throat closed up, and his fingers tingled, making him clench them.
"Silas?" He looked up to find her head tilted at him. "What's wrong?" She stepped closer to him, and he instinctively took a step back. She paused at his unusual behavior, her brows scrunched up, but she didn't push to close the distance between them. She just studied him.
He looked kind of tense, his muscles straining. "Nothing's wrong," he croaked out.
Her brows shot up. Her feet instinctively moved towards him. But before she could touch him, he suddenly perked up and smiled at her. She noticed it didn't reach his eyes. He was closed off again. Something was bothering him, she thought.
"I probably am a little overwhelmed, that's all. No need to trouble yourself." He clapped his hands on hers, but to her, he felt even more distant as he held her.
"You did it. We found our way in. We shouldn't fret on the specifics. Don't you want to celebrate?!" he questioned cheerfully.
'Say something, say anything, please,' Silas chanted in his mind. The silence and scrutiny from her unnerved him.
He cocked his head boyishly.
Lucinda finally blinked. "No, it's fine. We shouldn't celebrate too early, don't you think?"
"Of course," he agreed.
Lucinda nodded. "I'll retire first then." Lucinda patted his hand, then turned for the door.
Something was definitely up. Silas always scrutinized every last detail and loved to celebrate the little wins. She thought he would insist. She pushed herself not to turn back. It wasn't her problem. She didn't sign up to fight his demons.
"Lucinda?…" she inhaled as she heard him quietly call. She tentatively looked over her shoulder.