Chapter 21: 21 The Duke’s Attendant
Lucien led Rowan to the royal wing in his mansion, closer to the servants’ quarters.
He knew Rowan would never stay away from women; that was his favorite part of the mansion.
"Your room, ready as you like it," Lucien said as he pushed the door open.
"Mm, nice," Rowan said, walking into the room.
"Don’t leave. Rushing back to your traitor?" Rowan called from inside the room.
Lucien paused, frowning.
"What do you want, Rowan?" Lucien turned, standing in front of the door.
"Come in, cousin. I have a few questions," Rowan said, leaning against the bedpost.
Lucien hesitated.
He knew exactly what Rowan wanted to ask, and he didn’t seem to have an answer to his question. Reluctantly, he strode in, shutting the door behind him. The candlelight danced softly against the walls, but it did nothing to soften the atmosphere.
"Elian... the traitor..." Rowan started, his eyes never once leaving Lucien.
Lucien remained stoic, his eyes revealing nothing as he stared back at Rowan.
"Why is he still alive?" Rowan questioned. "I did hear about it. His father tried to poison you... that is treason." He leaned off the bedpost and approached Lucien. "He should be locked up, or worse... dead—"
"His father, Rowan. Not him," Lucien cut him off calmly.
But even in his calm, Rowan did not miss the sharp flash of anger across his eyes. He smirked, nodding slowly. "Ah, you’re right." He leaned closer, studying Lucien’s face. "Then lock him up like the law demands. Why is he roaming free, following you like a lapdog?" Rowan arched his brow, suspicion clear in his eyes.
He was poking for something, but Lucien was making sure he gave nothing away—not why he decided to keep Elian close, and definitely not why he was suddenly finding the traitor interesting.
"Not that I answer to you—"
"You don’t. I’m simply asking as an elderly cousin to know what is running in my cousin’s mind," Rowan corrected.
Lucien clenched his jaws, breathing slowly. "He is serving his punishment. His mother is held in my dungeon," he said simply.
"Aw, poor boy must miss his mother. Losing his father like that... he must wish to free his only parent," Rowan murmured to himself, returning to the bedpost.
"It cannot happen. They deserve no mercy," Lucien stated coldly.
"Exactly. Yet, the young man looks like a prince in training frolicking around you. What do you suppose the King would say when he learns you’ve taken a fancy to a traitor’s son—"
"I do not fancy him!" Lucien growled, slamming his fist backward against the door.
Rowan lifted his hands beside his head, nodding slowly.
"Agreed. I was just making sure," he said, nodding.
Lucien stepped further toward Rowan, his face darkened.
"I am still your Duke, Rowan. You shall not utter such scandalous rumors about me," Lucien warned.
Rowan casually unbuttoned his shirt, nodding dismissively, "I know. I just want to make sure the rumors stay rumors when they finally arise. Because... they will," he said, shrugging out of his shirt.
Lucien scoffed. "No one will dare—unless they want to face treason," he said.
Rowan smiled. "The boy is quite catching. Young maids are about to have a hard time putting in effort in their work, and dare I say... the lads, too—"
"I shall bid you a goodnight, Rowan," Lucien said, about to turn.
"What are you keeping him as?" Rowan’s question halted Lucien.
Lucien was suddenly left speechless. He hadn’t thought about that. He simply told Elian he was keeping him as punishment for his father’s crime and for his secret identity. He never thought of what he would present Elian as to the public... to the King.
"I see." Rowan sighed, placing his hand on Lucien’s shoulder. "You haven’t thought about it, have you?" he asked, shaking his head. "I know you don’t want me knowing, but I can tell you keep him close for a reason. May I ask why?" Rowan peered at Lucien.
"That is my business. From today, he is an attendant to the Duke. Goodnight, Rowan." Lucien stepped away and left the room, not waiting for Rowan to come up with more uncomfortable questions.
As he walked down the stairs, his mind replayed Rowan’s words and a strange feeling overtook his chest.
He did not fancy Elian.
He could not fancy Elian.
He should not.
Lost in thought, he didn’t see Rowena come out of the corner.
"My love," she said.
Lucien nearly tripped over Rowena, his arms coming up around her waist to secure her from falling.
"Princess, what are you doing here?" he asked, leading her away from the royal wing.
"I was searching for you, and Elian told me you were with a guest," she said, hugging his arm as they stepped into the grand hall.
Lucien’s eyes instantly went up toward the dining area. "Where is he?" he asked without thinking.
Rowena shrugged slightly. "I sent him to Edgar to punish him," she said proudly, smiling up at him.
Something snapped in Lucien. His arm fell from Rowena’s waist, his face turning darker than the night sky outside. Unaware of the change in the Duke’s demeanor, Rowena carried on with her reasoning.
"I caught him stealing food from your table, my love. And he dared to eat off of your plate with his filthy hands." She paused to pull her face in disgust. "He lied, saying you were aware of it, but I know you would never allow such an act. Feeding a traitor from your plate—it’s impossible—"
"Where is he?" Lucien asked quietly, his voice telling.
"I asked Edgar to teach him some manners down at the dungeon. He will never go near our dining hall ever again," Rowena said, cupping Lucien’s face. "Shall I visit your chamber tonight, my love?" Her voice lowered to that sultry tone.
Her face was glowing beautifully in the moonlight streaming through the cathedral windows. She was a sight that would move any man—any man but Lucien.
Lucien forced himself to inhale slowly, his face relaxing at Rowena’s touch. "I dare not, my Princess. I shall honor your virtue till our first night—"
"Fuck the virtue, my love." She pressed herself against Lucien, her silk nightdress swishing against his clothing.
Lucien caressed her face gently. "Patience, my Princess. You do know news will get to the King... somehow. I dare not." He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, stepping away from her.
"Oh, please, do not make me sleep alone again tonight, my love. I am yearning for you each night; please, have me." Not giving him a chance to refuse, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Lucien stiffened for a moment before kissing her back... controlling the kiss. He simply kissed her lips, avoiding any acts that would fuel her desires. Then, gradually, he pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers.
"I would love nothing but to take you up to my chambers, my Princess. But I am a man of my word; that is why your father chose me in the first place," he said quietly, placing his hands on her shoulders.
"But it’s in a year... I do not think I can wait," she sighed.
Lucien smirked, tilting her chin up. "It will be worth it." He pressed his lips one last time on hers before stepping away.
Rowena was blushing, a dreamy, aroused look in her eyes as she swooned. Just then, Ms. Beck walked out from the kitchen hallway.
"Ms. Beck," Lucien called. Ms. Beck came over and bowed to the couple. "Good evening, Your Grace, Princess," she uttered softly.
"See the Princess to her chamber," Lucien ordered. He went over to Rowena and took her hand. "Goodnight, my Princess." He kissed the back of her hand and bowed.
"Goodnight, my King," she smiled at him and nodded at Ms. Beck, following the old maid away.
The moment Rowena was out of sight, Lucien turned and stormed toward the dungeons. As he flew down the stairs, his chest kept tightening with each step he took. Elian’s tear-stained face kept popping into his mind. He had seen what he truly looked like without bruises on his face or body, and the idea of seeing him with them again wasn’t at all welcoming anymore.
He was six stairs away when it reached his ears.
"Argh!"
Lucien’s steps faltered as Elian’s pained scream echoed behind the dungeon doors. A load of rage settled right in his chest and melted with speed into his veins. In a blink, he was standing in front of the metal door and pushing it in with force.
