Roman/ Oliver
Lucille's gaze skirted the room, unwilling to meet mine. I wouldn't rush her. The prospects we were both facing were too unlikely and too dangerous to confront with a rash decision. Before I could ask again about what she saw as our future, Lucille's focus landed on the large portrait of a child.
She crossed her arms over her breasts. “I've always wondered why Roman would want that portrait in here."
Turning, I saw the rosy-cheeked child with fair hair wearing a long white dressing gown. “I agree. It's odd to have your own portrait in your bedchamber."
“No," Lucille said, her gaze shifting back to mine. “That's not you. He's your brother."
My eyes widened as I scoured my memory for any information I'd received. There was none. The only sibling I'd been told about was I
