Ch 48: Rumours
Lucien walked down the hallway, his destination Class 1-S. Behind him followed his attendant Connor, as usual.
The hallway was filled with students making their way to their respective classes, some standing in the hallway in front of their classes, but everyone parted for Lucien without a second thought.
Lucien’s reputation had been growing by the day, and his actions from the previous day had already spread through the academy like wildfire. The rumours, as rumours often did, had taken on a life of their own, twisting and exaggerating until the story being whispered was that Lucien had confronted Professor Max and nearly came to blows with him, all because Lucien had refused to allow Melissa to be challenged by Patrick. It was to some extent true but the fact that someone even dared to whisper that he had a previous unsettled conflict with Professor Max and was just trying to get an opportunity to end Max’s life was something that made him deeply frustrated.
Lucien would not have caught a single word had his senses not been as sharpened as they were. The students whispered with such deliberate quietness that any ordinary person would have missed it entirely. But Lucien had long since made a habit of keeping his senses spread outward, for this was a fantasy world where danger could come from any direction at any moment. It was not so unreasonable, after all, to expect that the ceiling might crack open and a dragon come roaring through, belching flame, at any time. Such was the nature of this magical world, where the unimaginable and the unfathomable had a habit of arriving without warning or reason.
Lucien turned his head toward a group of three students standing some distance ahead of him along the side of the hallway, quietly gossiping about how he had appeared like a knight in shining armour to protect Melissa from Patrick's challenge. As his silver eyes settled on them, he found them utterly ordinary. He knew in an instant that they were background characters. Their hair, their faces, everything about them was so unremarkable that he suspected he would forget them entirely within a few seconds of looking away.
"Get to your classes," Lucien called out, sweeping his gaze across the hallway where students had been lingering along the walls in quiet clusters.
Everyone flinched visibly beneath his gaze and immediately scattered leaving the hallway around him empty.
"Connor, do you know who is spreading this nonsense?" Lucien asked, not slowing his pace in the slightest.
"My lord, it is near impossible to trace," Connor replied, his voice sincere, though it carried a slight hesitation toward the end before he pressed on. "Many students witnessed you dueling Melissa by yourself and stepping in to stop Patrick from challenging her." He paused briefly, then added, "And you did carry the girl to the infirmary yourself."
"So the rumours were inevitable," Connor concluded, his voice stretching thin with the kind of careful caution that suggested he feared Lucien might erupt at any moment.
Truth be told, the old Lucien would not have hesitated to cut out the tongues of those who whispered about him, or to devise some other harsh punishment for those who dared spread rumours bearing his name. But at this moment, he found he had no appetite for it. Something was conflicting inside him, memories of Evan rising to the surface, nudging him with the quiet reasoning that the students were simply curious, that rumours without proof had a way of growing louder before fading entirely, and that in time this one would die down on its own.
Lucien found such an internal monologue deeply unsettling, coming as it did from a part of himself that felt entirely at odds with everything else he knew about who he was.
Then he remembered that Connor had said nothing to him yesterday about the lipstick stain on his neck, and the thought pulled him sharply back to the present. He stopped walking and turned to face his attendant.
Lucien sharpened his focus onto Connor, who looked visibly tense. His jaw was tight, his dark pupils trembling faintly beneath Lucien's unwavering gaze, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides as he struggled to contain whatever fear had taken hold of him.
Before Lucien could even open his mouth to ask why Connor had said nothing about the stain yesterday, Connor dropped to his knees.
"My lord, I will do my utmost to suppress these rumours," Connor said, his head bowing low. "I am sorry for failing you as your retainer."
He bowed lower still, and at the rate he was going, his forehead would have touched the floor within moments.
"Stand," Lucien said sharply, his voice carrying a familiar edge of authority. Some part of him took a quiet satisfaction in seeing the depth of fear and reverence his attendant held for him, even as the sight of it stirred something else he could not quite name.
Connor rose immediately, snapping to attention with his gaze still fixed on the floor.
"Yes, immediately suppress these nonsense rumours," Lucien said, not objecting to the initiative in the least. He was more than willing to let Connor take charge of the matter. In truth, he already knew it would resolve itself in time. But, still someone actively trying to suppress it would make the rumours die down even faster.
"What I actually wished to ask," Lucien continued, his gaze sharpening as the air around him dropped a degree colder, "is why you said nothing to me yesterday about the lipstick stain on my neck."
A silence followed. Then, for the first time, Lucien found himself genuinely caught off guard, because Connor's cheeks had gone faintly, unmistakably red. He looked like a man who had accidentally stumbled upon his employer doing something decidedly inappropriate and had chosen, out of a sense of misplaced propriety, to pretend he had seen nothing at all.
Lucien turned his gaze toward the now empty hallway, deeply grateful in that moment that there was no one else present to witness this. He opened his mouth once, then again, but both times the words dissolved before they could reach his tongue. Connor still stood with his eyes directed at the floor.
Lucien wanted to explain that there was nothing whatsoever between him and Charlotte, but the sheer depth of his attendant's misunderstanding had robbed him of the ability to form a coherent sentence. For the first time in recent memory, he was at a complete loss for words.
"Ahem," he began at last, composing himself with great effort. "There is nothing between us. Nothing at all."
Lucien turned and resumed walking without another word. Connor followed behind him shortly after, though notably at a greater distance than usual, as though he feared he might be punished for having stumbled upon what he believed to be a secret affair between his lord and the vice headmistress. It was clear, despite Lucien's flat denial, that Connor did not entirely trust his words on the matter.
***
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