The halls of the Duke’s mansion stretched endlessly before her, familiar and yet suffocating. The weight of her steps felt heavier than they should, her body moving on instinct even as her mind reeled.
The words still echoed in her skull.
"Lady Aeliana has returned... And she is cured, apparently."
Cured.
Her fingers clenched into the fabric of her sleeve, nails digging into her palm. Her breath came uneven, the faintest tremor running down her spine as she struggled to process the reality laid before her.
How?
For years—years—they had tried everything. Healers. Enchanters. Forbidden spells. Rare elixirs.
Nothing had worked.
And yet now, as if the gods themselves had decided to mock her, Aeliana had returned—whole, untouched by her illness.
It didn’t make sense.
It couldn’t make sense.
Madeleina exhaled sharply, her footsteps faltering as she turned a corner. Her body was tense, her head pounding with the weight of thoughts she dared not speak aloud.
Aeliana had been lost to the whirlpool.
She should have died.
But now, she had returned, miraculously healed, as if the years of suffering had never happened. As if all those long nights of agony, of desperation, had been erased in an instant.
The world felt wrong.
Then—more words.
From two passing knights in hushed conversation.
"Apparently, it was an adventurer named Luca who saved her…"
Madeleina’s breath hitched.
"The Duke has accepted this fact."
Something in her froze. The air in the corridor suddenly felt thinner.
Her eyes snapped toward the speakers, who had yet to notice her presence.
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"This adventurer… where is he?" one knight asked.
"Miss Madeleina," the other hesitated, "that adventurer was given a room in the west wing…"
The rest of the words faded into a dull hum as Madeleina felt her pulse quicken.
Her mind raced, piecing together the impossible.
Luca.
Madeleina’s hands trembled, though whether from anger, disbelief, or something more insidious, she couldn’t yet tell.
’Luca.’
Her breath came out sharper, the syllables of his name tasting bitter on her tongue. She knew that name. Of course she did. She had watched him back then—watched as he shattered every expectation, as he stood before them all, an anomaly wrapped in the skin of a mere adventurer.
He had broken through.
She had been there, standing just beyond the flickering torchlight, witnessing the moment that should have rewritten the rules of their world. And yet… it was him? That same insufferably laid-back, borderline irritating man?
It didn’t make sense.
No, it shouldn’t make sense.
Her heart pounded as she turned sharply on her heel, her steps quickening without conscious thought. The knights had barely finished speaking, but she had already made her decision.
’I need to see him.’
There was no other option. Not because she needed answers, not because the past clawed at her insides like a rabid beast—but because some truths demanded to be confronted. And this? This was one of them.
The west wing loomed ahead, its towering halls quieter than the rest of the estate. She moved swiftly, her pulse a steady drum against the walls of her throat.
She already knew her life was over.
The weight of that truth sat heavy in her chest, but it did not crush her. She had come to terms with it long ago, the moment she made her choice—the moment she chose the Dukedom over herself.
She had no regrets.
She would do it again.
For the Duke. For everything he had built.
Her fingers curled tighter into her sleeves as she neared the door she had been directed to.
Aeliana had returned. Cured.
Madeleina’s steps were steady, precise. Not a single moment wasted, not a single breath misplaced. She moved like a woman possessed, like someone who had already decided her course long before her body had caught up.
And yet, beneath the surface, her thoughts churned.
She had seen him before. Not in person, but through the artifact—the one that had allowed her to witness what should have been impossible.
Black eyes.
Black hair.
A presence that should not have belonged to a mere adventurer.
And now, she stood before his door.
Her hand hesitated only for a fraction of a second before she knocked. Three sharp raps against the wood. The sound echoed in the quiet corridor, a stark reminder that she was truly here, standing at the threshold of something she could not yet name.
Then—movement from within.
The door creaked open.
And there he was.
Lucavion.
His black eyes flickered over her, curious, assessing. He leaned casually against the doorway, one hand resting against the frame as if he had all the time in the world. His coat was slightly disheveled, as if he had only just risen from some languid rest, and yet—his gaze was sharp. Far sharper than the lazy smirk that curled his lips.
"Hmm?"
His voice was smooth, unhurried, touched with just the barest hint of amusement.
Then, that amusement deepened, and a spark of mischief lit behind his gaze as he tilted his head slightly.
"Who is this, I wonder?" he mused, the words dripping with faux curiosity. Then, without missing a beat, his lips curved into something dangerously close to a smirk.
"A lady knocking on a young man’s door?" His tone was light, teasing. "How scandalous. Are you here to ruin your reputation, or perhaps mine?"
His black eyes gleamed as he watched her, waiting—no, enjoying—whatever reaction she would give.
Madeleina inhaled sharply, keeping her expression schooled into perfect composure. She had dealt with enough nobles in her lifetime to recognize when someone was playing with her.
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This man—Lucavion—was doing exactly that.
Still, she did not rise to the bait. Instead, she bowed her head slightly, just enough to acknowledge propriety without losing ground.
"Ahem... I am Madeleina."
Lucavion raised an eyebrow, his smirk unwavering. He said nothing, only watching her as she lifted her head once more.
"I am one of the head attendants of the mansion," she continued, her voice even, measured.
And that was when it happened.
A flicker.
Faint—so faint that an untrained eye would have missed it entirely.
But Madeleina saw it.
His black eyes glinted, something shifting beneath the surface. Not surprise, not exactly. No—something else. Something more calculated.
’What was that?’
Madeleina’s fingers curled ever so slightly against the fabric of her sleeve. She had spent years navigating the intricacies of nobility, learning to read the subtlest tells in posture, breath, and silence. And this?
This was not the reaction of a man meeting a mere head attendant for the first time.
Still, Lucavion recovered in an instant, his smirk smoothing out into something unreadable.
"And what brings one of the esteemed head attendants to my humble doorstep?" he asked, his voice casual, almost lazy.
"I wish to speak with you," Madeleina answered, keeping her gaze steady on him. "In private."
Lucavion tilted his head slightly, studying her as if weighing something unseen.
"Why?"
A pause.
Madeleina did not answer immediately.
Her silence did not go unnoticed.
Lucavion’s black eyes sharpened just a fraction, the teasing glint in them cooling into something far more serious.
Then, after a moment, he exhaled lightly, shaking his head as if indulging a particularly persistent curiosity.
"Alright," he said, stepping aside. "Come in."
Madeleina stepped inside.
The room was modest yet comfortable, a temporary guest chamber befitting an adventurer who had somehow earned the Duke’s hospitality. She noted the bare furnishings—nothing excessive, nothing ostentatious. Practical, but not lacking.
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, she subtly shifted her gaze, catching glimpses of Lucavion from the corner of her eye.
Something… is different.
It was slight, almost imperceptible, but she could feel it. A change in his aura, the weight of his presence in the room. It was not something as crude as strength—it was subtler than that. The kind of shift that was not easily named.
Had he always been like this? Or was it simply the distortion of memory, the result of only ever seeing him through the artifact?
She couldn’t say for sure.
Lucavion, for his part, seemed entirely at ease. He gestured toward the chair across from him with effortless hospitality.
"Have a seat," he said, as though they were nothing more than two acquaintances exchanging pleasantries.
Madeleina hesitated only for a breath before lowering herself onto the offered chair. She had come here for answers, not to get lost in meaningless observations.
She straightened her posture, folding her hands neatly in her lap, before speaking.
"The thing I wanted to talk about—"
"It’s about how I saved Aeliana, isn’t it?"
Lucavion’s voice cut through the air, smooth and precise.
Madeleina stiffened, the words striking before she had even finished her sentence.
Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he tilted his head ever so slightly, his black eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.
"After all," he mused, voice lighter, but no less sharp, "you were the one who pushed her."
------------------A/N--------------
My new semester started today, and it was a hell of a day. Hope you like the chapters.