---
Lucien didn't say a word.
There was no need. No one was listening.
They'd stopped looking at him days ago.
Titus walked in the back still limping sword across his back, steps heavy from lingering damage. Alice trailed close, posture locked, perfect, like nothing touched her. Both of them stayed quiet.
Lucien stayed behind them.
Not by choice.
But that was where they left him.
Since the spar, neither had looked at him once. No remarks. No nods. Not even acknowledgment.
It wasn't avoidance.
It was dismissal.
Lucien could live with hatred. He knew how to carry that. He didn't need praise, didn't need thanks.
But this?
This blank space where attention should've been?
That felt like insult.
Alice hadn't said it to provoke him. He knew that. That's what made it worse.
> "You were disappointing. But I can't put my finger on how."
Flat. Dismissive.
No
She had looked at him—judged him—and then walked away
She was the one who froze. Who stood there, stunned, when the Mortum closed in.
He was the one who moved.
He had saved her.
As much as he wanted to say he didn't care for praise he didn't but being disregarded
That was a feeling he hated
Lucien scoffed under his breath.
He hated that name.
Made-up, overhyped, paraded through noble circles like it meant something. Whispered by guards who didn't know what real pressure felt like.
She hadn't earned it.
She'd just been born right.
And he hadn't.
---
The trees thinned. Grass replaced roots. Then the light changed.
Lucien stepped out of the woods and froze.
Sunlight.
Real.
Unfiltered.
It poured across the field in wide golden sheets, so clean it looked artificial. The breeze shifted. The air warmed. The mud on his boots cracked under the sudden change in temperature.
He stared.
He didn't smile.
Didn't blink.
He just let it hit him.
He hadn't seen sunlight in three weeks. Not real light. Not since the black moon.
He wasn't sure he trusted it.
Titus sighed in visible relief.
Alice tilted her face to the light, eyes half-closed.
Lucien didn't move.
Because this wasn't relief.
It was a spotlight.
And spotlights always brought trouble.
---
They came fast.
Riders on the ridge. Seven, maybe eight. Purple and gold.
Noble livery.
Lucien clocked the details immediately.
They were moving desperately
Titus stepped forward, arm raised slightly in recognition.
The riders didn't acknowledge him.
They rode past.
Right past Titus. Past Alice.
Every eye locked on Lucien.
The horses slowed as they reached him.
Dust curled from the grass.
The man in front dismounted.
Lucien didn't blink.
Didn't posture.
Just watched.
The man approached with zero hesitation. Boots sank half an inch into the wet field. Armor creaked once—dark violet plates trimmed in clean, matte gold. Broad shoulders. Heavy frame. No wasted movement.
Early thirties. Maybe late.
His eyes—blue. Hard set.
Lucien didn't need to guess.
Liz's father.
And this man was not pleased.
He stopped two paces from Lucien.
Didn't introduce himself.
Didn't ask a question.
Just stared.
Hostility rolled off him in waves. His entire posture said You don't belong here.
Lucien didn't flinch.
He looked the man in the eye, posture relaxed, arms loose at his sides. No tension. No deference.
Just stillness.
Finally:
"Who are you?"
Lucien's voice came out aggressive
Lucien
"Why are you with my daughter?"
Lucien didn't look away. "why would I know who your daughter is
He could tell but after all his efforts he wasn't necessarily in a good mood
The man didn't blink
Didn't twitch.
Just stepped forward and grabbed Lucien by the collar.
Pulled him forward until their foreheads nearly touched.
"You think you can speak to me like that?"
"I speak how I want," Lucien said. "Especially after dragging your daughter out of a blood-soaked death zone so actually you should be thanking me
Don't worry I won't ask for too much but I'm sure your daughters life is very valuable
"You're in no position
"I don't give a fuck
The man's grip tightened.
Lucien's boots shifted in the grass, but he didn't lean away. Didn't yield an inch.
The surrounding guards tensed.
One moved a hand to the hilt.
Titus stiffened.
Alice didn't move.
Then—
"Stop."
Liz.
Barely audible. Breathless.
But the effect was immediate.
The man froze.
Turned.
Let go.
He moved to her without a word. His entire body dropped to one knee beside her.
He checked her pulse. Touched her shoulder. Murmured her name like it was the only thing keeping his mind together.
Lucien looked away.
Not because he was moved.
Because he was done.
He took one step back.
That should've been it.
But it wasn't.
The man stood again. Slowly. Stepped back toward Lucien.
Didn't grab him this time.
But stood close.
"You're not from this land,"I can tell by your attire your not any of the people reported missing by Viscount revelin
Lucien looked at him the same way he looked at dirt
Lucien tilted his head slightly.
"Yeah I was the one who saved them
Silence.
The man didn't blink.
Didn't answer.
Then Liz spoke again.
"He saved me."
The man didn't move.
He pulled me out. Got us past the ridge. He he helped us
The man didn't look at her.
He didn't need to.
He stepped back. Just one step.
Still hostile.
Still watching.
But he didn't say another word.
Lucien adjusted his collar.
Didn't nod.
Didn't thank anyone.
He walked forward.
The guards shifted slightly. Not enough to open a path—just enough to not be accused of blocking one.
Lucien passed through without looking at any of them.
Didn't speak.
Didn't stop.
He looked at everyone he had helped save Titus Alice Michael and all the civilians and then he looked at liz meaningfully and nodded his head
And entered the carriage meant to transport them