Chapter 110 A Stranger’s Kindness
"Lucien, come on, you need to lie down." Rowan and Soren gently led Lucien toward the hallway.
But Lucien was reluctant to move.
He looked at the side where Elian stood and watched with confusion clear in his eyes.
The pain in his heart was suddenly greater than the one in his chest.
What had happened to his Elian?
Why did it feel like he no longer existed in Elian’s world?
"Lucien, we need to leave," Soren stated calmly, his eyes drifting toward Elian in subtle observation.
"I can... I can walk," Lucien pulled his hands away from Rowan and Soren and straightened with great effort.
He wasn’t going to leave here without Elian.
However, the moment he took a step toward Elian, someone stepped in and stood right in front of Elian, blocking his view of Elian.
"It’s time to go home, Elian," Cassian spoke gently, placing a hand on Elian’s waist.
Lucien saw red.
He finally saw the man who had kept Elian away from him for months, and Cassian still dared to try and take him away?
"He’s not going anywhere with you," Lucien barked dangerously.
Cassian, who hadn’t noticed the people behind him, slowly turned and saw the unexpected audience.
"Your Grace," he bowed politely.
Gritting his teeth, Lucien strode toward Cassian, ignoring the jarring pain in his head. "Tell me what you’ve done to him or I swear on my blood, Cassian, I’ll slit your throat, here, now," he snarled.
Cassian blinked slowly, his face giving nothing away. "I do not know what you mean, Your Grace," he replied.
"Lucien, don’t." Rowan was right beside Lucien to stop him from pulling his blade from its sheath.
Lucien glanced over Cassian’s shoulder and saw Elian watching with a frown.
His hand fell from the blade.
This time, he wasn’t going to start violently with Elian.
"Elian..." he moved away from Cassian, limping over to Elian, who kept standing like a lost deer.
"You should really be resting." Elian glanced at Rowan and Soren behind Lucien. "Do you not care about him?" he questioned with a frown.
"He’s stubborn," Soren stated.
"I’m confused," Rowan murmured.
"Please, Elian, come... I’ll do things differently, I’ll tell you everything you need to know, just, come home... please..." Lucien begged, holding himself back from pulling Elian into his arms.
Elian furrowed his brows. "That’s where we’re going... home. Right, Cass?" He smiled at Cassian.
Cassian nodded, a soft look in his eyes. "We are," he responded.
Lucien tried to speak, but suddenly lost his footing and fell forward.
Elian was quick to catch him in his arms, looking helplessly toward Lucien’s friends and Cassian.
"Cass, help him, he’s burning up," Elian murmured. Rowan and Soren were there in a flash, taking Lucien from him.
"We’ve got him. Goodbye, Elian," Soren said, leading Lucien away from him.
"No... Elian..." Lucien drawled weakly, his voice hoarse.
Elian stared at them until they disappeared into the hallway.
"Time to go," Cassian said, touching Elian’s arm.
Elian looked away from the hallway and nodded.
Cassian led Elian through the small gate in the garden, taking them right out of the courtyard.
He had brought Elian with him to Rowena’s mother’s remembrance because this was the first place he had been since they went to Cassian’s home. And Cassian had specifically chosen the garden for Elian to stay, hoping for no drama.
To Rowena, it was a shock to see Cassian alive, but Cassian played it off, telling Rowena exactly what she wanted to hear about Elian’s misfortune, and it seemed to brighten her dampened mood.
He was never expecting Lucien to find Elian, never expected for that avoided meeting to happen. Now, he knew Lucien was coming, and he knew he was coming at all costs.
He helped Lucien into the carriage and got in beside him, the coachman closing the door.
Silence.
As they rode away through the gates, he slowly slid closer to Elian, turning his face to him.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
Elian lifted his face, locking his blue eyes with Cassian’s. "...he... he looked sick," he murmured.
Cassian gritted his teeth, cupping Elian’s chin. "He is fine. He will be... you promised, Elian," he whispered sadly.
"I know... I’m sorry..." He looked away, tears rolling down his smooth cheeks.
Cassian saw it and clenched his fists, cursing himself for bringing Elian out from the safety of his home.
For two months, he had managed to keep those tears away, and now, just one encounter, and all his efforts were wiped away like it meant nothing.
"I’m sorry," Elian sobbed, shaking his head. "I’m sorry, Cassian, it’s just... it’s right in my chest, I can’t help but let it out, I’m sorry–"
"Hey... it’s okay, it’s okay... you’re alright," Cassian gently pulled Elian into his chest, caressing his long brown curls. "You’ll be just fine, I promise."
Elian shook his head, sniffling. "I don’t think so," he murmured against Cassian’s chest. "I felt it, Cassian, when his skin touched mine... I felt my heart ache, my pulse raced... It raced for him, Cassian. I’ll never heal–"
"Don’t say that..." Cassian kissed the top of Elian’s head, hugging him closer. "I’m here... I’ll help you heal, just as I’ve been doing." He gently tilted Elian’s face and smiled at him.
Elian inhaled shakily and nodded. "Thank you," he whispered and placed a small kiss on the side of Cassian’s lips.
Cassian smiled, seemingly pleased. "I have told you to stop doing that," he murmured.
Elian shook his head. "I won’t," he replied, looking through the small window.
Cassian watched Elian quietly; it would have to be over his dead body before he let Lucien hurt Elian again.
He wished those memories never returned, as a new life was the only thing. But fate was cruel, returning every hurt and agony to Elian. Now, to keep Elian out of reach from Lucien, Elian had to pretend like he really did lose those memories.
If not, the moment Lucien realized Elian still recognized him, it would be back to the push and pull of never-ending torment.
In a small room with white linen curtains and white bed sheets, Rowena sat beside Lucien, holding his hand as he slept.
"I don’t want to lose him, Soren," she said to the doctor standing beside the bed.
Soren almost scoffed at her, but he gave her a reassuring nod instead. "You won’t. He just needs to rest more," he said.
Rowena sighed, nodding slowly.
"Or–"
"Lord Rowan..." Soren called quietly, narrowing his eyes at Rowan by the window side. "Some quiet, please?"
Rowan flashed a smile. "Of course... doctor," he murmured.
The white linen curtains stirred gently with the night breeze. The lamp on the side table burned low, casting soft shadows across the white bed sheets.
Rowena had finally left after hours of sitting at Lucien’s side, her soft goodbyes and lingering touches still hanging in the air. Soren had stepped out only minutes earlier to fetch fresh medicine, leaving the room in heavy silence.
Rowan remained by the window, arms crossed, watching the rise and fall of his cousin’s chest.
Lucien stirred.
A low, rough sound escaped his throat as his brows furrowed tightly. His fingers twitched against the sheets. Then his eyes opened — bloodshot, unfocused, and filled with immediate pain.
"...Elian..."
The name left his lips in a broken murmur, barely audible, yet heavy with desperation.
Rowan turned at once. "He’s awake."
Lucien tried to push himself up, but the movement sent a sharp spike of agony through his skull. He winced, clutching his head with one hand while the other reached blindly into the empty air beside the bed, as if searching for someone who was no longer there.
"Elian..." he called again, his voice hoarse and cracked. "Where... where is he?"
Rowan moved closer and pressed a firm hand to Lucien’s shoulder, gently forcing him back against the pillows. "Lie still. You’re still burning with fever."
Lucien’s green eyes, glassy with pain and fever, locked onto Rowan’s face. "He was here. In the garden. I saw him. His hair... it was longer. He looked at me like..." His voice broke. "Like he didn’t know me."
Rowan exhaled slowly. "He did. You need to relax, cousin."
Lucien’s breathing grew uneven. He turned his face toward the empty side of the bed, staring at the space as if Elian would materialize there.
The memory of those calm blue eyes and the soft, polite "Good morning, sir" twisted inside his chest like a blade.
"I need to go after him," Lucien whispered, already trying to sit up again. "Cassian took him. I won’t let him—"
"You can barely sit up without collapsing," Rowan cut in firmly. "You’re in no condition to chase anyone tonight. Soren will be back soon. Rest first. We will talk about Elian when you’re not half-dead."
Lucien’s jaw clenched. Sweat beaded on his forehead as another wave of pain rolled through him. Still, his eyes remained fixed on the darkness beyond the window, as if he could somehow see the road Cassian had taken.
"...He called me ’sir’," Lucien murmured, almost to himself. The words sounded like a confession of defeat. "After everything... he looked at me like I was a stranger."
Rowan said nothing for a long moment. He simply pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, watching over his cousin in the quiet night.
Lucien’s eyelids grew heavy again, the fever and exhaustion pulling him under. But even as sleep claimed him once more, the same name continued to leave his lips in soft, broken whispers.
"Elian... Elian..."
Outside, the night remained still, while somewhere far from the cream-colored house, a carriage carried Elian deeper into the dark — and farther from the man who could not stop calling for him.
The night stretched on, heavy with unspoken truths and the fragile hope that morning might bring clearer answers.