Chapter 100
When I returned to Lucian's chambers later that evening, I found him awake, though pale and visibly drained. He stared at the ceiling, his jaw tight with tension. Despite the dim light, his anger was palpable. I hesitated in the doorway before stepping closer, pulling the chair beside his bed.
"How are you feeling?" I asked softly, though I already knew the answer.
He turned his head to me, his eyes dark. "Like my leg has been shattered, Arin. How do you think I feel?"
I flinched at his tone but forced myself to stay calm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
Lucian sighed heavily and gestured weakly toward the chair. "Sit."
I obeyed, folding my hands tightly in my lap. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint crackle of the hearth. Then I ventured cautiously, "Lucian, what do you plan to do now? After... everything?"
"The other day when Rowan was here you mentioned that you needed my help in taking the throne back. Are you sure about that?"
His lips twisted into a bitter smile. "What do you think I'll do? Lie here and let my brother continue to disgrace this kingdom? No, Arin. I'm going to take what's mine."
"Take what's yours?" I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper.
"The throne," he said firmly. "I will take it from Rowan, and when I do, you'll stand beside me as Queen."
I blinked, the weight of his words sinking in. "Lucian... are you certain this is what you want? Challenging Rowan—your own brother—won't be easy."
"It's not a matter of what I want," he snapped, his voice sharp. "It's what this kingdom needs. Rowan is unfit to rule. Everyone knows it. He's weak, indecisive, and now his incompetence is driving the wolf clans to rebellion. This is the only way."
I hesitated, then asked, "But Rowan is older than you. He was the Crown Prince before—"
"Before he lost the position!" Lucian interrupted, his tone fierce. "Do you know why he lost it, Arin? Because he betrayed our father. He stole from the crown. He betrayed his own family!"
I frowned, pretending to be shocked. "He stole from the crown? I've never heard of this before."
"Of course, we don't talk about it much," Lucian sneered. "Rowan should have been executed for his treachery, but instead, Father sent him to Arêtes—a death sentence in all but name. No one expected him to survive, and yet he returned. A cripple. Useless. He was supposed to die. And somehow, he managed to worm his way back into Father's favor."
"How?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite myself.
Lucian's expression darkened. "A witch. He was healed by some foul sorcery. That's the only reason he's even standing today."
"A witch?" I repeated, leaning forward slightly. "What happened to her?"
"It doesn't matter," Lucian said dismissively. "She's not alive anymore. She’s dead.”
"Does Rowan know?" I pressed.
Lucian shrugged, the movement making him wince. "I doubt it. Her execution was private, and Father made sure none of us spoke of it to him. We didn’t care to tell him either, it was more interesting watching him search for her frantically, devoting his time and energy into that. Let him search for her all he wants. He'll never find her.”
I sat back, my mind racing. Rowan had been searching for me all this time. He truly never knew about the execution. I thought he had lied about that, but I was in the wrong. "Why didn't your father want him to know?"
Lucian's eyes narrowed. "Because he knew Rowan would come after him for it. Everyone could tell that he loved that witch, perhaps father was afraid of the consequences of his actions. What Rowan might have done if he found out that he ordered her execution. Even after everything he still looked out for him.”
The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. I studied him for a moment, wondering how much of his anger toward Rowan was personal and how much was political. "Lucian," I began carefully, "do you really think... that you'll be able to walk again?"
His head snapped toward me, his expression furious. "What kind of question is that? Of course, I'll walk again! Do you think I plan to sit here and rot while my brother destroys everything?"
"I didn't mean it like that," I said quickly, trying to placate him. "I just—"
"Just what?" he demanded. "Doubt me? Is that it?"
"No," I said firmly, meeting his gaze. "I believe in you, Lucian. I do. I'm just... worried. That's all."
He seemed to relax slightly at my words, though his jaw remained tight. "If you truly believe in me, then prove it."
"How?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Spend your days in the temple," he said, his tone commanding. "Pray for my recovery. Pray that I'll have the strength to do what must be done."
I hesitated. "Lucian, I—"
"That's all I'm asking," he said, cutting me off. "Do your duty as my wife. Pray for me, Arin."
His words left no room for argument. I nodded slowly, forcing a small smile. "Of course. I'll pray for you."
"Good," he said, leaning back against the pillows. "Now leave me. I need to rest."
I rose from my chair, my heart heavy. "Get some sleep," I said softly, but he had already closed his eyes, dismissing me completely.
As I left the room, my mind swirled with questions and doubts. Lucian's ambition was clear, but his bitterness and rage threatened to consume him. And even with his recent injury, it didn't seem to dim his spirits. He still wanted to take down Rowan by all means possible.
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