Distance.
1180 Words
Lucien.
Morning came too soon.
He hadn’t slept.
Instead, he sat in his study, staring out the tall windows into the dim, misty courtyard, a glass of something dark and strong in his hand. He hadn’t touched it.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her.
The way her body had gone slack in his arms when he found her on the battlefield. The way her breathing had stuttered as her blood spilled over his hands, hot and metallic and wrong.
The way she’d stared up at him later, stubborn even through the pain, as if she’d rather choke on her pride than admit she’d been wrong to go into that fight.
And then last night… gods, last night.
That faint smile on her lips as he tucked her in.
That look in her eyes when she’d called him out for being controlling — and laughed. Laughed.
He raked a hand through his hair and pushed away from the desk, prowling to the window.
This was exactly the problem.
She was crawling under his skin, making him soft, making him reckless.
And he couldn’t afford that. Not now. Not with enemies closing in and her power still barely awakened.
He had to keep his distance.
If he let himself care more than he already did…
If he let himself want more than he already did…
He would destroy her.
She didn’t understand yet what he was capable of — what the darkness inside him could do if it ever truly slipped the leash.
No. He couldn’t let her close.
He had to remember what she was: a dangerous key in the wrong hands, a bond he hadn’t chosen, a weakness he couldn’t afford.
And yet…
Even as he thought it, his hands curled into fists at the memory of her blood on the ground. The phantom scent of her skin clung to his senses, maddening and warm.
He cursed under his breath, turning sharply from the window.
Distance.
He’d keep his distance.
Even if it killed him.
Anara.
The morning light was pale and cold as it streamed through the tall windows of my chamber.
I sat at the vanity, fingers absently twisting the ties of my dark training tunic.
The black fabric hugged my frame, the sleeves snug enough that I could move without hindrance, made perfectly to fit me.
My hair hung in loose waves down my back, still damp from the quick bath Eira had practically forced me into before leaving me alone to dress.
I met my own gaze in the mirror, my brown eyes catching a glint of something darker now — something I didn't recognize.
My hands hesitated on the table, remembering the way I had been cut in the fight.
The sharp pain, the hot rush of blood, the way the world had dimmed and spun around me.
But now… nothing.
My fingers brushed over where the wound had been. Smooth, unbroken skin. Not even a mark.
Of course he’d healed me.
Lucien.
My breath hitched slightly, before I exhaled through my nose, pressing my palms flat against the wood.
He was impossible. Overbearing. Infuriating.
But the way he’d looked at me when he found me — as if someone had carved out his heart and was squeezing it in front of him — that was harder to shake.
And then last night…
For some reason I was happy we were getting along a little.
My lips twitched faintly before I caught herself, forcing the thought away.
No.
I didn’t have time to think about him. Not now.
He could scowl and brood at me all he wanted.
He could call me stubborn and reckless and whatever else suited him.
But if I didn’t learn to control my power — if i didn't master the shadows and my magic and whatever else i was becoming — then next time, there might not be a next time.
I wasn’t just some pawn to be hidden away in his castle.
I was going to fight.
I tied off the last strap of my boots and stood, squaring my shoulders and brushing the last stray thought of him aside.
Let Lucien brood all he wanted.
I had work to do.
*******
The air in the training yard was brisk, smelling faintly of steel and earth.
Darius stood opposite me, a wooden practice sword balanced lazily on his shoulder, his sharp gaze following my every move.
“You’re getting better,” he said as he circled me. “But you’re still too rigid. You don’t trust yourself yet.”
I huffed, adjusting my grip. “Maybe because my teacher keeps circling me like a hawk.”
He smirked faintly and lunged. I barely managed to parry in time, the wooden blades clacking together. Shadows curled faintly at my feet — a subtle response i immediately forced back.
Rule two: control.
We sparred for another round, my movements growing sharper, quicker. And then i felt… him.
My head lifted on instinct.
Lucien.
He was there, standing just inside the archway, arms folded. Watching.
Even from across the yard i could feel his presence — heavy, unsettling, like he took up more space than the walls could contain.
I held his gaze, almost defiantly, and allowed the faintest curve of a smile to touch my lips.
But he only nodded. Curt. Distant.
And yet he didn’t look away.
Darius glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing slightly as they met Lucien’s across the yard. Something passed over his face — not quite amusement, not quite surprise — and when he looked back at me, his smirk was gone.
Instead, there was a quiet, knowing sort of edge in his expression.
“You’re distracted,” he murmured, stepping closer and lowering his blade slightly.
I scowled. “I’m fine.”
“Did you guys fight again?”
“nope”
“So why—”
“can we just keep sparring?”I said annoyed.
He gave me a look that said he knew otherwise, but he said nothing more, only stepping back and lifting his sword again.
When Lucien finally pushed away from the wall and strode toward us, the air around them seemed to shift.
Lucien’s footsteps were quiet on the stone as he crossed into the yard. He stopped a few steps away, arms still folded. Then he finally spoke:
“Don’t you do too much talking for a sparring match, cousin?”
Darius froze mid-step, then turned his head slightly, smirking over his shoulder.
“Why don’t you come take over then? If you’re so eager to shut me up.”
Lucien’s eyes narrowed, his arms folding across his chest.
“I have better things to do,” he said evenly.
Darius’s smirk widened faintly. “Ah. Of course you do.”
Lucien didn’t bother to answer. He let his gaze rest on me for one last moment — I held his stare before he turned on his heel and walked out.
Behind him, Darius’s quiet laugh followed, I just rolled my eyes.
- Writer
