Free Web NovelChapter 39: 39 The Longing Is Yours
He had told Elian not to clean himself just so he could clean him!
Elian appreciated the help, but he wasn’t comfortable with getting naked in front of someone he didn’t like. It stripped him of whatever dignity he had left.
As he walked down the stairs, he could feel Lucien’s gaze behind him—a dark, intense gaze that had him feeling like he was still naked in the bath.
He knew the Duke only offered his help because he needed him... for two reasons now: as a truth seeker, and for his body.
He didn’t know how the second one happened, but it happened, and each second, he prayed his wrist never healed. That way, he wouldn’t have to repay some sick favor to Lucien.
Elian pushed the door open, this time giving Finn a curt nod. "Good morning," he murmured.
Finn smiled slowly. "Good morning, Elian. How is your wrist?" he asked.
"Better," Elian replied, slowly resuming his walk.
Lucien appeared behind him, giving Finn a pointed look.
"Good morning, Your Grace," Finn bowed.
"You’re friendly with him?" Lucien questioned lowly, his eyes moving to Elian, who now stood in front of his study.
Finn paused, unsure if this would bring trouble to Elian and himself or not.
"We’re barely acquainted, Your Grace," he said.
"Barely?" Lucien narrowed his eyes.
Finn nodded. "Yes, barely."
"Then you’re useless," Lucien stated.
Finn instantly straightened. "I’m sorry, Your Grace. Tell me what you need me to do."
"He’s refusing to confess to his father’s sins. He’s receptive to you; find out from him what really happened," Lucien ordered.
Finn nodded. "Yes, Your Grace," he answered.
Lucien turned to leave, but then he paused. "What do you sense?" He slowly turned and faced Finn once again.
Finn shifted uncomfortably, his fingers digging into his palm. "It’s still the same, Your Grace. What I—"
"Not me... him," Lucien glanced at Elian.
Finn exhaled quietly. "Um, he’s guarded, Your Grace. It’s very hard to sense any real feelings from him. The only things I keep sensing from him are anger, hate, and the urgency for revenge."
"That’s the only thing I’ve sensed from the first time I saw him... it hasn’t changed," Finn informed.
Lucien frowned.
Anger, hate, revenge.
And he didn’t need to ask before he knew that they were all directed toward him.
Even after last night, nothing changed.
"Not even a fracture of longing?" Lucien found himself asking.
Finn blinked rapidly, lowering his head and clearing his throat. "May I speak freely?" he asked.
"Speak," Lucien held himself back from snapping at his young guard.
There was no need to seek permission; if he didn’t want to hear it, he wouldn’t be asking!
"I do sense a deep longing... but it is not from Elian. It is you, Your Grace," Finn spoke calmly.
Lucien paused, the words hitting his face like a brick.
He was longing... for what? For whom?
He masked his face with a calm mask, looking squarely at Finn. "Get close to him, and find out the truth," he said and left.
He had to leave before Finn could sense his rising panic.
He had never longed for anyone, not for over fifteen years. Longing was dangerous; it ties you up in a never-ending loop of expectations just to crush you hard in the end.
He couldn’t let himself long.
This time, Finn was wrong. He knew what he felt, and it wasn’t longing.
He simply wanted Elian... he didn’t long for him.
It was just a simple satisfaction of an urge, and it could never go past that.
He met Elian in front of his study, his eyes scanning his unreadable face as he stood in front of Elian.
"What?" Lucien asked.
Elian shook his head. "Nothing."
Lucien frowned, suddenly realizing what he’d done.
He wasn’t supposed to care about whatever was going through Elian’s mind, but as he approached and found Elian’s face lacking either defiance or sadness, he felt that instant urge to know what he was thinking.
"Stay in there and wait for me. Ms. Beck will bring you break—"
"My love," Rowena’s voice cut through Lucien’s instruction.
Elian immediately stepped away, putting more distance between himself and Lucien, his head cast down.
Lucien’s fingers twitched, itching to pull Elian back beside him, but that would be scandalous, wouldn’t it?
So, he stayed, lifted his face, and smiled at his fiancée.
"Good morning, my Princess," he greeted, taking the hand she was offering and placing a gentle kiss on the back of it.
"Good morning, my King," Rowena whispered, wrapping her arms around Lucien’s neck and pulling him down for a soft kiss.
Lucien felt it the moment Elian took another step farther, the small action grating sharply against his heart.
The morning came with a brutal realization: his double life.
At night, he was a man full of heat and hunger, but in the morning, he was an unresponsive Duke in the hands of his woman.
"Is something wrong?" Rowena asked, a small frown creasing her soft brows when Lucien failed to reciprocate her kiss.
Lucien blinked, cupped Rowena’s face, and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Nothing is wrong," he whispered, kissing her forehead.
Rowena smiled, hooking their arms together. "Why is he here?" She glanced at Elian with disapproval.
Before Lucien could speak, Rowena was already walking toward Elian.
"You, why are you here? Why are you always trailing the Duke? Planning to kill him like your father?" she asked venomously.
Elian opened his mouth to speak, but Rowan’s voice beat him to it.
"Have you not heard? He’s the Duke’s attendant." Rowan strode over, smiling.
"Morning, Princess. Your Grace," he tilted his head in the slightest bow before walking over to drape his hand over Elian’s shoulder.
"Morning, Elian," Rowan whispered.
"Morning, Rowan," a ghost of a smile appeared on Elian’s lips.
Lucien watched with questions swarming around his head. Just a single word from Rowan had a smile tugging Elian’s lips, but all he got for caring for the traitor last night and this morning was frown after frown and glares whenever Elian thought he wasn’t looking.
However, at that moment, he was grateful for Rowan’s intervention; he wouldn’t have known how to respond to Rowena and not give out information he shouldn’t.
"The Duke’s what?" Rowena finally found her voice, snapping her head at Lucien.
Lucien cleared his throat, wrapping his arms around Rowena’s waist. "For a while now, my Princess. Would you rather I get a female attendant?" he whispered.
"What? No," she shook her head. "It’s just... it is him..." She pointed at Elian. "A traitor," she murmured.
Lucien glanced at Elian, and for a moment, he forced his brain to identify that beauty as a traitor. Because that’s what he was; telling himself otherwise would be a joke.
"What if he kills you?" she questioned seriously.
Lucien chuckled. "He won’t. That’s why I’m keeping him close; he has no time to plot, my Princess." He kissed her forehead.
"You have to be careful, my love. Father is getting suspicious," Rowena murmured.
For a moment, a hush fell over the hallway, the words sinking in.
Lucien raised his head, looking over at Elian with a new kind of feeling crossing his eyes.
Elian felt it, and deep in his soul, he knew this was the beginning of his exploitation.
"He is?" Lucien asked, gently leading Rowena away.
Rowan gently tugged Elian forward, not wanting to miss the tea.
"Yes, he believes every Morel should be dead or imprisoned. He would hate for anything to happen to his successor," Rowena complained softly.
Successor? Elian frowned.
No wonder Lucien was so loyal to Rowena. Was that why he was marrying her, too? To become king?
They walked toward the long stairs, heading for the dining hall.
"Then we shall visit him, to assure him of my plans and well-being," Lucien said, his voice too calm, like a man finally accepting his place among the shadows.
Rowena smiled. "That would make him happy, my love. We shall leave tonight," she said, pausing in front of the dining hall’s door.
Lucien broadened his smile, nodding easily. "That would be the best decision."
Rowena flashed Elian a triumphant smile and walked into the dining hall.
Finally, she was going to have Lucien all alone without that fleabag hovering around him. She would have seduced the Duke to her bed, but that boy was always in the way.
Tonight, on their way to her father’s castle, she was going to have the Duke begging for her inside the royal carriage.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," the maids greeted as Rowena settled into the chair Lucien was holding out for her.
Lucien glanced at the door, aiming to see Elian, but he heard Rowan’s voice leading Elian away from the dining hall.
"My love?" Rowena’s voice paused Lucien’s steps.
He gradually realized that he was already halfway to the door.
He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I’m sorry." He forced a gentle smile and went to lower himself at the head of the table.
As the maids served their breakfast, Lucien found himself losing his appetite, his legs bouncing quietly under the table.
His eyes kept glancing at the door, his mind wondering what Rowan was doing to Elian. The last time he left them together, Elian was returned with a broken wrist.
He cleared his throat, hoping to clear his head, but the empty feeling intensified inside him, and before he knew it, he sprang from the chair.
"I think I have an upset stomach, my Princess. Enjoy the breakfast." He forced himself to slow beside her and kiss her hand before striding out of the dining hall.
He refused to give that feeling a name, but he knew one thing... he needed Elian beside him.
