Lucavion barely acknowledged the murmurs of the estate's servants as he strode through the halls. His usual smirk was still in place—of course it was. He had mastered the art of appearing unbothered, of weaving ease into his every movement, his every breath.
But the moment he reached his room and shut the door behind him—
Lucavion exhaled, leaning back against the wood, tilting his head up toward the ceiling.
His heart was still hammering in his chest, an uneven rhythm that refused to settle.
He lifted a hand, pressing it against his own cheek, feeling the residual heat still lingering there. His ears… still red. He knew without even looking.
'This is absurd. Absolutely absurd.'
Aeliana's voice still echoed in his mind.
Lucavion clenched his jaw.
It wasn't the words themselves—though, admittedly, they were a problem. No, what was worse was the way she had said them. So firm. So certain. No hesitation, no wavering, no second-guessing.
And even worse than that—
Lucavion let out a quiet, breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair, as if trying to shake off the lingering sensation of her warmth pressed against his back.
He had never been . Not once in his life had he let something—someone—unravel him so effortlessly.
His hand dropped to his chest, his fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His heart still hadn't calmed.
Lucavion dragged himself forward, collapsing onto the bed, his arm flinging over his eyes.
'This is… troublesome.'
Everything had changed. He felt it.
Before, it had been a game. A push and pull. A dance where he always had control over the pace, over the space between them. But now—
Now, Aeliana had shattered the entire rhythm.
Lucavion exhaled slowly.
And what bothered him wasn't just her confession. It wasn't just the way she had smirked after, knowing exactly what she was doing to him.
It was the fact that, in the moment she had whispered against his skin—
His body had reacted.
Before his mind could calculate, before his usual easy charm could weave a response, before logic could remind him of all the reasons why this was a terrible idea—
Lucavion lay still, his body sinking into the mattress, but his mind refused to follow. His breath came uneven, betraying the emotions clawing their way to the surface, ones he had spent years keeping buried. He had thought himself untouchable. That no matter how much he danced with the idea of closeness, he could always slip away before it became real—before it became dangerous. And yet, despite all his careful maneuvering, all his subtle dodges and effortless deflections, Aeliana had torn through them like a force of nature, unrelenting and inevitable.
He had known, known, that she was persistent. That she would push. That she would refuse to accept the shallow, teasing mask he wore so well. But he had never expected her to go this far. He had never expected to be left in his room, staring at the ceiling, feeling like a man who had lost something instead of gained.
Because that was what this was, wasn't it? Losing. Losing the version of himself that had stayed safely detached, that had observed from a distance, never fully committing.
Lucavion pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead, as if that alone could keep the unwelcome emotions from spilling over. Tch. This is why I avoided it. This is why I never let myself— He stopped the thought before it could fully form.
The truth sat heavy in his chest, just as it had all those years ago. He had closed himself off after that day. When he learned just how cruel fate could be, just how easily something precious could be stolen away. It was better, safer, to keep his heart locked behind a wall, to view the world through the lens of amusement and curiosity rather than attachment.
He exhaled sharply, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. Somehow, against all odds, Aeliana had barged her way in. And Valeria too. He had been careful with her as well, kept things light, never let anything sink too deep. But she had still managed. She had moved something in him, made him hesitate, made him stay just a little longer than he should have.
Aeliana had brute-forced her way in, like a sword through armor, like a storm battering against a door until it collapsed. There had been no room for evasion, no space to slip away before he got caught. She had thrown herself forward, no hesitation, no doubt, no fear.
Lucavion let out a quiet, bitter laugh.
He wasn't sure what was more unsettling—the fact that she had managed to do it, or the fact that some part of him liked it.
Liked the way she held onto him without hesitation. Liked the way she had claimed him as hers, like there had never been another possible outcome.
Liked the way it had felt.
His breath hitched again, and that alone was enough to annoy him. Enough. He needed to bury this, shove it back into whatever corner of his mind had kept it locked away all these years. But just as he closed his eyes, just as he tried to force himself into the familiar coldness of his usual indifference—
Lucavion's eyes snapped open.
[You won a girl's heart.]
Vitaliara's voice echoed in his head, her presence curling in the corners of his mind, distant yet unmistakable.
Lucavion did not move, but his fingers twitched slightly against the sheets.
Lucavion let out a soft, nearly imperceptible chuckle, shifting onto his back as if the weight of her voice wasn't pressing against his mind. His arms folded behind his head, his smirk sliding back into place with practiced ease, the picture of nonchalance.
"Oh? How rare," he mused, his tone light, almost amused. "I don't recall you giving me your blessings before, Vitaliara. Should I be flattered?"
Her voice was dry. Unimpressed.
Lucavion stilled for half a second.
[Your ears were red. Bright red. I didn't even know you could make an expression like that.]
His smirk didn't falter, but his fingers curled slightly against the sheets.
[So,] Vitaliara continued, her voice smooth, edged with something he didn't quite like. [You had been waiting for that girl to say something for a long time already, haven't you?]
Lucavion clicked his tongue.
"Tch. That's a bit of a stretch."
"Of course," he drawled, stretching his arms as if this conversation wasn't affecting him in the slightest. "It was inevitable that someone would eventually confess to me. You know, charming as I am."
Something in her tone made him pause.
It wasn't playful. It wasn't teasing.
As if she had already read through every single layer of his usual excuses before he even had a chance to form them.
Lucavion exhaled slowly.
"…It couldn't be helped."
He tilted his head slightly, closing his eyes, feigning ease. "Aeliana is persistent," he admitted. "And stubborn. And entirely unwilling to take 'no' for an answer. Even if I had wanted to avoid this, she would have forced her way through sooner or later."
[That doesn't answer my question.]
Lucavion smirked. "Doesn't it?"
[No. Because I saw you.]
His lips parted slightly—but he had no response.
[You weren't just flustered. You weren't just caught off guard. You—]
Vitaliara's voice softened, just slightly.
[You looked like you had been waiting for those words for a long, long time.]
Lucavion inhaled sharply.
He could dismiss Aeliana's boldness, he could brush off her confidence, he could tease and evade and play the game he had always played—
Vitaliara's voice—unwavering, quiet, filled with something too close to the truth?
Lucavion forced a laugh, shifting onto his side. "Hah. You're seeing things, Vitaliara."
The finality in her voice sent a strange chill through him.
[For once, I think I'm seeing clearly.]