'Why is she not waking up? Could it be the shock from being almost shot?'
"—ugh…" The hole that was currently burning a scalding agony in Lucian's flesh forced him to focus on his breathing, on himself, and his pain.
Not on Celine. Not on the others. Just on the sharp, searing pain that pulsed through his body. He inhaled deeply, letting it fill him, letting it consume him until there was no room for anything else.
"Where do you think you are going?" Seb asked, his weapon pointed at Lucian.
Lucian stumbled to his feet. "To my carriage, of course," he replied.
"You are staying right here," Seb said, and his sword landed in front of Lucian, blocking his way. "Try to escape, and you'll bleed out. Try anything, and I'll give you another hole in the guts."
"Escape?" Lucian chuckled, picking up his jacket and draping it over his bare shoulders, "From what?"
"You have been accused of harming Lady Rochefort, Lord Arclight. She'll decide your fate once she wakes up."
"What if she wakes up and finds me in a worse state? Are you sure she would like that?" Lucian said, his hand reaching for the sword's blade.
"What are you—"
"Useless soldiers with useless weapons die the fastest. Why is that?" Lucian interrupted, pushing the sword aside, "It's because they don't know when and where to draw their weapons, when and where to use them, and, more importantly, when and where to retreat."
Seb didn't get provoked and remained calm, "Which is why I'm still alive and well, and you are dying at my feet. What is your point?"
Lucian didn't answer. The ruckus outside spoke for itself as the sound of hooves grew closer.
"I apologize, Your Highness," Graham's voice boomed from outside. "But Lady Celine is currently sleeping. We wouldn't want to interrupt her now, would we? It's bad luck," he said, his tone calm and polite, "A luck so bad, it might cost a kingdom or two."
Seb's expression darkened; he gave Lucian a dirty look before retreating his sword and rushing back to his lady's side.
Celine really had some capable people by her side; Lucian was jealous. He passed by the screen and stood rooted in place, the entrance just a step away from him, "..."
Celine's eyes were closed, but her hands moved, sending Seb a signal to go outside and deal with the Crown Prince. She was awake, and had been awake for some time now, Lucian realized.
She made the same mistake as him, revealing her true nature instead of continuing the role of the victim. But what was the point in being honest with each other when neither of them had any intention of being nice or merciful?
She had sent her people away and was all alone now, causing his legs to carry him toward her.
Her hand untied the handkerchief around her neck, raising it in his direction, revealing the purple and green bruises that had formed underneath, "If you want to frame me for shooting you, be my guest. Your gunshot against my bruises, which proof would they believe more?"
Did she think he wanted to ruin her reputation further? To destroy her life?
He caught the handkerchief in his hand and tied it back around her neck, "Do you think that low of me?"
"I think lowly of everyone. It's only a matter of degree."
"..." Lucian tied the knot too tight, and her hand came up to loosen it, creating a small gap. She didn't look scared; she didn't look worried. She wasn't even surprised by his actions, expecting the worst out of everyone, even out of him.
He held onto her hands, guiding them to the knot he had created and tying it again, much gentler this time.
His thumb caressed her knuckles as he did, trying to ease the tension in her hands. They were stiff, as if waiting for the next drop, for the next act of cruelty and betrayal to unfold.
"Relax, it's just the payment for some of your emotional labor, Lady Rochefort," he said, curling her own fingers around her neck for her to gain semblance of control, "We both know I can't afford to pay you the amount you deserve," he bent down, his body wincing in protest, but he refused to let it stop him.
He pulled out the list she wrote out of his right boot, giving it a quick read. He then began to tear the evidence into smaller pieces, tossing them into the brazier by her bed. The scraps curled and blackened upon contact with the embers, glowing briefly before crumbling to ash.