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It hit first– fast.
Not the water, the cold.
Slamming into his chest like a blade, stealing the air from his lungs.
Lucian's mouth opened, gasping for air.
The water rushed in.
He tried to scream. His body jerked violently, fingers clawing at nothing as the lake swallowed him whole.
He tried to breathe, but couldn't.
His strength drained, his limbs turned heavy, like they were no longer his own.
He began sinking.
Deeper into cold nothingness.
The world slowly blurred before him, and just as the darkness began to close in—
A hand grabbed him.
Cold and firm, pulling him upwards.
Air tore into his lungs as he jolted upright, coughing into consciousness, his vision still hazy.
His gaze caught a glimpse of her hair, his arms still weak from thrashing in the water, reached out to hold her.
But instead of flesh, he grabbed something else.
A piece of cloth, warm.
Then he heard a voice, then another.
Soft, almost melodic.
But he couldn't make out the words being exchanged.
His vision slowly became clearer. He lifted up the cloth.
It was a handkerchief, then his eyes fell on the embroidery.
A white orchid by the edge. As it quickly got snatched away by someone, who ran into the woods.
A warm hand held onto him. "It's okay now… you're safe," a voice said softly. His gaze fixed on the sky.
Thick grey-like clouds gathered above and then, snow began to fall. Mingling with flickers of yellow and grey, as it landed on the ground
Then—
A sharp tap on his shoulder. "Master Lucian? Master Lucian, wake up!" A young maid said.
His eyes snapped open. Sunlight spilled through the bathroom window.
Water sloshed against porcelain, as his sleeve clung to his skin.
His chest heaving, muscles trembling, as he drew his dagger by the side and pressed it against her neck.
"What are you doing here?" His voice cold.
"I…I was trying to.." she stammered, fear in her wide eyes.
"You must be a spy?" He interrupted, water dripping from his sleeve.
"No… master," She said quickly. "You were unconscious. I was only trying to help."
"Don't you know? No one is allowed to disturb me in my sleep?"
"I…I didn't" she hesitated, her hands trembling.
"Lies.." Lucian hissed, the dagger piercing deeper into her neck.
"I swear, master." Tears breaking down her chin. "I am no spy."
Lucian's gaze narrowed, but it still remained on her. Scanning her sharply.
Slowly, he lowered the dagger. Summoning instantly the head maid.
"Edith!!" He yelled. His voice echoed, shaking the foundations of the mansion as he stepped out the water.
She came rushing in, accompanied by other maids. "Yes, Master Lucian." She bowed quickly.
"How many times have I told you and every maid in this mansion not to disturb me while I am asleep?" His tone slightly rose.
"Countless, Master Lucian." She replied calmly.
"What exactly is the meaning of this?" He pointed at the maid behind him, who was still frightened.
"I'm sorry master." Edith apologized. "She is new and not fully aware of the rules."
"And you let her tend to me?" Lucian asked, his eyes glinting with rage.
"My apologies master." Edith said again. "It won't repeat itself."
With a quick nod, some other maids rushed towards the Duke, wrapping his exposed upper body, as water dripped down his chest with a long robe. While the others helped the young maid.
Lucian watched as they exited the bathroom.
His arms pressed hard onto his temples.
Then, he heard a firm knock.
"Enter." He said without looking.
The door creaked open and Aziah stepped in. One hand tucked behind his back, the other adjusting his cuff as if he had all the time in the world.
His gaze flickered to the damp floor then to Lucian.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."
"Not now, Aziah," Lucian dismissed instantly.
Aziah raised both hands lightly in surrender, then paused studying him. "But I must say threatening the maids before dinner is a new record, even for you."
Lucian stared back in silence. He moved past Aziah, as the water trailed behind him, then reached for a cloth drying his hands.
"Any news?" His tone was serious, without hesitation.
Aziah's expression shifted just as quickly, into something sharper.
"We found a lead." Aziah responded.
Lucian's hand went still.
"The white orchid," he continued. "The design isn't common, especially in that pattern."
Lucian turned slightly, towards Aziah.
"And?"
"We found someone who might recognize it." Aziah stepped closer, lowering his voice. "A shop across the eastern district. Vinrick's Trinkets. They deal in custom pieces. Rare work."
Lucian paused, then let out a sigh. He turned his gaze and met his, there were sharp.
"I have waited long enough," Lucian said.
"At first light," he continued. "prepare the carriage."
"That eager?" Aziah asked, his head tilted slightly, but Lucian's expression remained composed. His fingers curled faintly, as though remembering the feel of the cloth.
"The next time I see that embroidery." His voice was low. "I won't lose her…"
For a moment there was silence. Then Aziah's lips curved into a small grin.
"Very well then..." he muttered. "As you wish, Master." Then gave a short bow and left.
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Celestine lifted the teacup to her lips, but the moment it touched her tongue she coughed.
The conversation faltered immediately, gaze shifted towards her.
Celestine lowered the cup slowly, grabbing a napkin and pressed it against her lips. An attempt to recover.
"My apologies." She said calmly, despite the burn in her throat.
"Are you feeling unwell, Lady Celestine?" A young lady asked. " You have been rather quiet." She added.
Celestine's eyes lifted. She was a merchant's daughter. But before she could respond another lady with shorter brown hair laughed lightly catching her attention.
"Oh… haven't you heard?"
Celestine tilted her head slightly.
"Some news has a way of… humbling people." A chuckle escaped the lady's lips.
A ripple of quiet interest spread across the table.
Celestine let out a quiet scoff.
There it was again— the stare.
She lifted her teacup once more, unfazed.
Serpents in green grass.
But, before the tension could bloom further, a calm voice spoke as their attention shifted.
"Lady Clarice…" she called out. "Such behaviors will not be tolerated at this gathering."
Silence filled the air, as they all stared at Clarice. Nervously, she tried to defend herself but stuttered. " I… I was only…"
"That's enough, Lady Clarice." Jane dismissed gently, while Clarice's body instantly stiffened. Lowering her head in embarrassment.
"I apologize on behalf of my guest, Lady Celestine." Jane said with a gentle smile.
Too gentle to be sincere.
"Words like that tend to….spread." She added, taking a small sip from her cup, her red hair perfectly in place.
Jane's gaze drifted to a young Baron's daughter seated at the far end of the table.
"Isn't that right?" She asked.
The young girl froze.
The young girl looked around the table before briefly settling on Celestine. Then instantly lowered her head. "O…of course, Lady Vanlengh."
Jane gave a satisfied smile, then returned to her chatter.
Jane Vanlengh.
The daughter of the Duke of the West. And in this room, that title was enough.
Celestine's gaze lingered on her for a moment. Jane sat at the Centre, but not by chance.
The Queen was gone, and neither was there a crown princess to replace her as the head of the Noble women's association.
So the space had to be filled.
By her, but not officially. And no one dared say otherwise.
Except for the old Celestine.
Fearless and also reckless.
The seating arrangement told its own story.
Around her, the closest were the ones who leaned in when she spoke.
The ones who listened and whispered back into her ears. Further out, were those she tolerated, some she hated but couldn't do much harm socially to.
Atleast, not openly.
And at the very edge, those who spoke unless told to.
Celestine's eyes flickered towards the Baron's daughter.
Her tool.
Used in spreading rumors.
The old Celestine would have reacted by now. Snapped and lashed out, giving them exactly what they wanted.
But that would only make things worse, because—
Jane was untouchable.
Celestine lifted her teacup, taking another slow sip. Her focus soon drifted past porcelain, past fake smiles, and towards the tall glass windows lining the halls.
And just then, a movement caught her eye.
Someone crossing the street.
Tall, broad shouldered and unmistakable.
It was Lucian.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her teacup.
He walked with confidence, taking long and unhurried strides towards the building opposite them.
"What is he doing here?" She muttered quietly.
Jane noticed.
"Excuse me?" she called out. "Did you say something, Lady Celestine?"
Celestine's mind shifted back to the gathering. She stared for a moment, her face calm. Then a smile tugged across her lips. "Nothing.." she said.
As Jane gave a small nod. Suddenly, one of the ladies slumped into her seat.
Her expression, dull. "We should do something more interesting.." she said, fanning herself as she added. "Sitting all day grows boring."
Then, something clicked. "Why don't we go over there?" Celestine suggested, her finger pointed towards the window.
Their heads turned.
"Over there?" Jane observed, reading the faded sign across the street. "Vinrick Trinkets…"
Then her gaze returned back to Celestine.
Curious but suspicious.
"Why there?"
Celestine didn't respond immediately. She only suggested going there because of Lucian.
But saying that would seem desperate.
"I have heard they deal with rather unusual items." She said lightly. " It might be interesting."
The ladies stared at each other in silence.
None willing to speak unless gestured to.
Unexpectedly, someone responded eagerly. "I agree," the merchant's daughter said.
All eyes turned towards her, her words suddenly stopping in her throat.
"I…I believe… since it's Vinrick's, they may have rare pieces." she continued, her voice lowered. "We don't get the chance that often."
Murmurs followed, and the interest of the ladies sparked. Their eyes shifted naturally to the head of the table awaiting a response.
Jane Vanlengh took a sip from her tea, examining the room from the rim of her cup.
Then her gaze lingered on Celestine just a second longer. She smiled, "very well," saying at last. "Let's go together."