Chapter 6: The Second Sale
Lucas turned his head slowly. Met her eyes.
He could have said something sharp. Could have drawn blood with words, the way the court taught him to—late, but thoroughly. He had seven more years of experience than the boy they remembered. Seven years of survival, observation, and silence turned to steel.
He could’ve put them all in their place.
But something stopped him.
Not pity. Not restraint.
Caution.
Because for all of Serathine’s elegance, her wealth, her impeccable timing—there was something underneath her actions that didn’t quite match the Emperor’s cold efficiency. Something far more personal. And far less explained.
He turned slightly, his voice smooth but edged.
"Lady Serathine..."
She raised a hand with a lazy flick of her wrist.
"Sera, for you, my dear."
The room stilled for a heartbeat.