Chapter 54
Minutes passed quietly in the secluded corner of the Velebrandt estate’s vast garden. Amidst the rustling leaves, birdsong, and faint, distant hum of maids tidying up from earlier festivities, Lucien lay asleep with his head resting gently on Marie’s lap. His breathing had evened out, and the pained contortion that once marred his features was gone, replaced by a soft serenity.
The dappled sunlight filtering through the trees painted his pale, elegant face in shifting patches of gold and green. Each rise and fall of his chest was calm now, a stark contrast to the earlier scene of distress. In that moment, he looked otherworldly—like a young prince from a tale of dreams, or perhaps something even more divine.
Marie stared down at him, her fingers slowly gliding through his silver hair in a soothing, repetitive motion. The softness of his strands surprised her each time, like they weren’t made for this world. Her eyes, wide and filled with worry moments ago, now trembled with something gentler—something more tender, but uncertain.
"What could have caused it...?" she thought, glancing toward the grassy path, where the half-eaten dessert still sat, toppled over. A line of jelly remained intact, but the spoon had rolled a little away, glinting faintly under the sun.
Her brows knitted together.
"Could it have been poisoned? Or..." her imagination spun wildly. Her eyes widened slightly—then she blushed, a faint pink dusting her cheeks.
"W-Wait... no way... d-don’t tell me someone put sleeping powder into the dessert..." Her grip on the hem of her dress tightened. "Don’t tell me some foolish maid tried to..."
Her thoughts crashed together in a storm of anxiety and anger.
"...tried to sneak in time alone with him while he was vulnerable?"
Her cheeks flared, even brighter now, and a storm of flustered confusion and indignation built inside her. She dared not say it aloud—but the very idea of someone using underhanded methods to get close to her young master, especially after how vulnerable he looked... it ignited something fierce in her chest.
"That... that would be unforgivable!" she thought, gripping her skirt with both fists. "His face... with that kind of face and body, anyone would—no, no! That’s not the point! It doesn’t matter if he’s more handsome than an elf blessed by moonlight! If someone dared take advantage of him...!"