The days following the conversation with Edmund felt like a slow-burning fuse, each moment building toward something inevitable. Serina couldn't shake the feeling that everything around her was a lie, a carefully woven web of deceit where no one—least of all her—was playing by the same rules.
The prince's every move seemed calculated, every smile hiding something far deeper than she had originally imagined. As much as she tried to distance herself from him, the gravitational pull of his presence was undeniable. It wasn't just the power he held within the palace walls—it was the enigma that surrounded him. The questions. The mysteries. What was his game? What was he truly after?
Serina had come to a conclusion, albeit one that left her unsettled. Lucian, for all his charms, wasn't just a prince caught in a political dance. He was a predator, and he had been playing the game far longer than she had.
But there was something else she didn't understand. Something about the way his eyes lingered on her when they spoke. Something that spoke volumes without him uttering a word. Was it part of his plan to trap her in his web, or was there something more to it?
As she made her way to the royal garden again, a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.
"Lady Elowen."
Serina turned, her breath catching in her throat as she faced Lucian. He stood a few feet away, dressed in the regal attire that always seemed to make him look even more imposing than he already was. The moonlight bathed him in a silver sheen, making him appear almost ethereal.
For a moment, time seemed to still as their gazes locked. The tension between them was palpable, thick enough to touch.
"You've been avoiding me," he said, his tone casual, though his eyes were anything but.
Serina took a step forward, her heart racing despite herself. "I haven't been avoiding you, Your Highness. I've simply been... occupied."
Lucian raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips curling up in a faint smirk. "Occupied?" he repeated. "With what?"
The question felt like a challenge, a provocation. She couldn't bring herself to answer him honestly. He knew far too much about her life. And yet, there was something about the way he asked that made her want to tell him everything—expose her deepest fears, her darkest secrets.
"Just... matters of my own," she replied, her voice steady even though the storm inside her was brewing.
Lucian stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. He had a way of closing the distance between them without appearing to do anything at all. It was as if the very air shifted when he moved.
"I see," he murmured, his voice softer now, more intimate. "I hope those matters are important, Lady Elowen. Because you're becoming quite... interesting to me."
Her breath hitched at the words, and for a moment, she couldn't tell if he was being sincere or if it was just another move in his game. But the way his eyes lingered on hers, the almost imperceptible tension in his posture—it felt real. Too real.
Serina forced herself to take a step back, breaking the brief silence. "I don't know what you mean, Your Highness."
He watched her carefully, as though gauging every shift in her expression, every subtle movement. "You know exactly what I mean," he said, his voice low and smooth, almost hypnotic. "I've been watching you, Lady Elowen. And I've seen the way you've been moving, calculating your steps."
Serina's heart thudded painfully in her chest. She hadn't realized how closely Lucian had been observing her. How much did he know? How far had he gone?
"I've had my reasons," she replied carefully. She wasn't about to let him see how unsettled she truly was.
Lucian stepped closer again, his face now just inches from hers. The heat of his body radiated toward her, and for the briefest moment, she could feel the pulse of his energy, as though he were a force she couldn't resist.
"I don't doubt that," he whispered. "But let me make one thing clear, Lady Elowen."
Serina's breath hitched as she instinctively took a step back, her back brushing against a column. She didn't know what was coming, but she knew it wasn't something she could easily escape.
"I have my own game," Lucian continued, his voice growing darker, more insistent. "And whether you realize it or not, you've already become a part of it."
Before she could respond, before she could fully understand what he meant, he turned away from her, his demeanor shifting back to something more controlled. He didn't look back, but the weight of his words hung in the air between them.
Serina stood there, breathless, her heart pounding. He had never been so direct with her before, and for a brief moment, she had glimpsed something in him that she hadn't seen before—a kind of vulnerability mixed with power, a strange cocktail of emotions she couldn't quite place.
What game was Lucian really playing?
---
The next few days were filled with tension. Serina couldn't shake the feeling that she had stepped into a game where the rules were being changed at every turn. Lucian's presence seemed to haunt her every move, and no matter how much she tried to distance herself, she kept finding herself drawn to him.
The princess's commands, meanwhile, became more and more insistent. Seraphina, ever watchful, seemed to know that something had shifted between Serina and Lucian. She pressed harder, pushing Serina into situations where she was forced to play the role of the obedient lady, all the while knowing it was a façade.
But Serina could feel the cracks in that façade growing wider, could sense the power shifting beneath her feet. And no matter how hard she tried to deny it, she knew that Lucian wasn't just playing the game—he was changing the rules.
And somehow, in some twisted way, Serina was starting to think that maybe she wanted to play along.