Free Web NovelChapter 40: 40 Born or Made?
"Where is my cousin?" Lucien questioned the guards at the door.
"The infirmary, Your Grace," one of the guards replied.
Nodding, Lucien calmly walked onto the veranda, forcing himself into a slow stride so he didn’t seem like he was in a hurry.
The infirmary suddenly seemed so far, and even as he kept questioning himself why he was behaving the way he was, he kept walking forward, needing to see what Rowan was up to.
Finally, he stood in front of the door, his breath uneven from the sudden panic that had taken over him at the dining table.
He took a deep breath and placed his hand on the door, quietly pushing it open.
He was expecting to see Soren standing over Elian, tending to his wrist. Instead, he saw three men sitting around the small table in the corner of the infirmary, eating.
His fingers clenched around the doorknob before he quietly cleared his throat, announcing his presence.
Soren was the first to lift his head from his meal, turning to look at Lucien walking toward them.
"Morning, Your Grace. Are you well?" Soren stood, ready to attend the Duke if need be.
Lucien didn’t look at Soren; his eyes went to Elian, who had slowed his eating the moment he arrived. Rowan was beside him, eating leisurely, not bothering to acknowledge him.
"Why are you dining here, Rowan?" Lucien questioned, his fingers twitching to pull Elian up and drag him beside him.
But he didn’t; he chose to speak to Rowan instead. Speaking to Elian directly would not make any sense. He knew that if Rowan returned to the dining hall, Elian would follow. That way, he wouldn’t have to answer Rowena’s suspicious questions about why he brought a traitor to the dining hall.
"Me?" Rowan lifted his face, smiling at Lucien. "Ah, you don’t have to bother, cousin. It is only wise we give you and your princess some privacy. It is clear she doesn’t take a liking to my friend over here, and neither do you." He gestured toward Elian, chewing gently on his honey-glazed chicken.
Lucien was quiet, lacking befitting words to reply. He simply stared at Elian, his eyes taking in his rigid shoulders and stiff movements. It annoyed him so much that Elian only got this way with him, as if he were trying to kill Elian each time they met.
Soren quietly returned to his chair, his eyes observing Elian for a moment before he resumed eating.
"Your wrist looks well wrapped. You did this yourself?" Soren questioned.
Elian stilled, his pulse spiking as he fought the urge to lift his gaze to Lucien; it would be a dead giveaway if he did.
So, he simply nodded. "Yes... I managed."
"It’s fine, you don’t have to trouble yourself struggling. You can come here every morning; I’ll help," Soren said.
"Then you will be seeing more of us, since Lucien won’t be around to brood over us anymore," Rowan smiled.
Lucien’s jaw ticked, his eyes darkening as he heard what Rowan said.
"You’re wrong, cousin," Lucien said, his eyes returning to Elian. "Elian is coming with me. Did you forget?" He glanced at Rowan with a secret triumph. "He’s the Duke’s attendant."
Elian dropped his hands to his lap, clenching his good fist under the table.
Was Lucien really going to drag him to the King’s palace? For what?
The King would literally order his execution on sight. Or was that Lucien’s goal all along? Lynda did warn him that the women are rumoring about how Lucien is planning to kill him soon.
If only there were a way to escape embarking on that dreadful journey.
"Really?" Soren locked his gray gaze on Lucien. "Then you are no longer considered a traitor?" he asked slowly.
Rowan chuckled, shaking his head. "Why don’t you answer that, cousin?" He narrowed his eyes at Lucien.
Lucien swallowed quietly, refusing to play Rowan’s games. "Do not wander out of the gates; you travel with me tonight." With that said, he turned and walked toward the door.
"I’m still a traitor... always a traitor."
Lucien heard Elian’s response as he stepped through the door.
He didn’t head back inside; he walked straight toward the garden beside the mansion, standing under the shelter and staring blankly at the flowers.
Why had he hesitated to answer Soren’s question?
Of course, Elian was still a traitor’s son. His father’s blood will forever be in his veins. But then why was he so resistant to answering? Why hadn’t he wanted to see that sadness in Elian’s eyes?
Elian was a traitor’s son... will always be a traitor’s son.
He stared toward the closed gates and sighed. Tonight, he’d take his first step to his ultimate goal.
Night came fast, and the royal carriage was already waiting in front of the mansion.
Inside, Rowan stood with Elian in the grand hall, staring at the carriage with a bored look.
"It’s just three nights," Rowan murmured, placing his hand on the small of Elian’s back. "I’ll be waiting for your return, my friend."
Elian smiled. "If I am meant to return," he spoke quietly.
Rowan frowned. "Don’t worry. No one can actually hurt you... not even the King. By law, you’re under the Duke’s protection; only what he says about you shall be done," he assured.
Elian chuckled. "That’s worse. He wants me dead," he muttered.
Rowan paused for a second. "I do not think that is true."
Elian blinked, staring at his feet. "He wants me dead... in the end."
Lucien, who had been standing in the hallway, heard every word they spoke, and he couldn’t help the anger that seized him.
He couldn’t even deny Elian’s words; initially, that was what he intended, but at the moment... could he really watch Elian die?
Sighing quietly, he stepped out of the shadows and called to him.
"Elian."
Elian stilled, chewing his bottom lip before turning his face to Rowan.
"I’m not the one calling you," Rowan smiled, patting Elian’s waist before stepping away from him.
"I’ll be outside," Rowan said.
"Come here, Elian," Lucien called calmly, ignoring the way Rowan had held Elian’s waist like it belonged to him.
Gulping, Elian reluctantly turned and walked toward Lucien. However, as he approached, Lucien simply turned and strode toward his study.
Without stopping, he followed him, hoping whatever Lucien had to say was quick before Rowena saw them together and made trouble for him.
He stepped into the study, the door closing behind him.
Lucien stood at the center of the room, his back to Elian.
"Did you enjoy your day with Rowan? Away from me?" Lucien asked lowly.
Elian frowned. What did that sort of question mean?
But he would answer it honestly anyway.
"Yes," Elian replied.
Lucien slowly turned, his lips slowly curling into a smile that unsettled Elian deeply.
"Come here," he beckoned, stretching out his gloved hand.
Reluctantly, Elian went to him, staring apprehensively at the gloved hand before lifting his good hand to it.
The moment his bare hand touched Lucien’s gloved hand, he was tugged toward the taller man, his front pressing against Lucien’s solid form.
He gasped softly. "Don’t..." Elian moved his face to the side as Lucien’s lips almost brushed against his.
Lucien’s gaze hardened. "Don’t? Why?" he asked, his arm hooking around Elian’s waist.
"You didn’t ask me to stop in my chambers," Lucien whispered into Elian’s ear, feeling him shudder in his arms.
Elian licked his lips, blinking slowly and inhaling softly. "Please... stop—"
"Why?!" Lucien snapped, grabbing Elian’s jaw to gaze into his blue eyes.
Elian trembled with fear and a sick excitement, heaving heavily. "B-because... because this is wrong," he stammered.
Lucien chuckled lowly, his grip loosening on Elian’s jaw just to drag his fingers along Elian’s jawline.
"Wrong?" he whispered, his breath ghosting the sensitive skin beneath Elian’s ear. "You didn’t ask me to stop in my washroom, young Morel." His voice dropped to that deep and sensual timber, vibrating the air around them with dark desire.
Elian was breathing heavily, his eyes fluttering shut from Lucien’s sexy whispering over his skin.
"You have no right to tell me what is wrong, Elian..." his hand slid from Elian’s waist down to his ass, simply letting it stay there. "You owe me... and until I say otherwise, you make yourself available for whatever I want, whenever and however I want it. Are we clear, Elian?" A frightening smile curved his lips.
"Yes, Your Grace," Elian murmured.
Lucien smirked, satisfied with his result.
"Then," Elian paused, hesitating.
Lucien arched his brow. "Speak," he commanded.
Elian sighed; he had to say it one way or the other. "Can I... may I request that my mother be released from the dungeon, as an agreement that I will do your absolute bidding without questioning?" he said in a small voice.
Lucien slowly released Elian, regarding him with an alarming amusement. "You think you can bargain with me?"
Elian shook his head. "No."
"I just want to make sure that you enjoy whatever you plan to do with me to the fullest. It’s you I’m considering, because, with my mother still left in that dark, stinky dungeon, I might unconsciously not be compliant enough for you," he reasoned calmly.
Lucien laughed.
Elian was shocked.
He lifted his face and watched the Duke laugh. A controlled, low laughter, but still a laugh.
For a moment, it seemed like the shadows always looming around him took a step back, easing those hard lines in his face for just a brief moment.
And it left Elian wondering; perhaps something had happened to steal Lucien’s happiness away. Something must have taken his laughter from him, and curiosity suddenly shielded him. He suddenly wanted to know everything about Lucien.
Was he a born villain, or was he turned into one?
Sometimes, turned villains are more dangerous than born ones.
There was a hint of amusement and disbelief in Lucien’s laughter. Almost like he couldn’t believe Elian and himself.
"You’re diplomatic... that’s bad for your situation," Lucien said, walking toward his desk, forcing his face back to its cold mask.
Elian cleared his throat. "This isn’t fully about me. It’s about you, and your shocking interest in me." He took a step forward.
Lucien looked up, holding Elian’s gaze for quite a while before he scoffed. "It is shocking, isn’t it?" he murmured, shaking his head.
He didn’t need Elian to point out how shocking it was. He knew it, and yet, he had no plans to step back from his forbidden pleasure.
He pulled his drawer open and grabbed a pair of black, leather gloves. Walking over to Elian, he gently took his hand in his.
"From now on, you wear these," Lucien slowly pulled the black glove over Elian’s fingers.
Elian stared at his hand that now looked identical to Lucien’s. "Why?" he murmured. "I do not want to be or look anything like you."
Lucien arched his brows. "It is alright." He pinched the tip of the glove on Elian’s middle finger, slowly pulling it off. "I would have no way to protect you once they detect who you are—"
"I’ll wear it," Elian snatched his hand away from Lucien.
"I’ll wear it," he murmured, rubbing his good hand over the other one, feeling the warmth of the glove hugging his skin.
"Good," Lucien said, watching Elian patiently. "You will stay by my side at all times, and you shall speak only when I allow. Do you understand?" There was something terribly akin to pleading in the tone of his voice, even though his green eyes remained cold and dark.
Elian slowly nodded. "I understand." It was not as if he was going to wander around the castle telling people what he could do; his security was his utmost priority.
"It’s not so bad to look like me, is it?" Lucien covered the space between them, trailing his finger down Elian’s arm.
"I have no choice," Elian said.
Lucien hummed, hooking his finger under Elian’s chin, looking hungrily into his eyes. "Your choices are mine to make, Elian... no one else’s," he whispered, his lips dangerously closing in.
Just when they were both sure a slow, hungry kiss was about to happen, Lucien stepped away, straightening.
"I shall consider your request when we return," Lucien said and walked away, pulling the door open at the same time Rowena was about to push it open.
"Ready, my Princess?" Lucien asked, gently steering Rowena away from Elian.
"Yes, yes, my love. Father will be very gladdened by morning," she giggled.
Inside the study, Elian still stood in shock, replaying Lucien’s reply in his head.
I shall consider your request when we return.
Elian chuckled in disbelief. Lucien? Consider his request? Why?
