Chapter 20: Trouble

Lyra

The silence in the restricted wing was different from the rest of the academy. It wasn’t peaceful, and it wasn’t calm. It felt watched.

Every sound carried too clearly, from the distant shift of guards outside to the faint scrape of metal against stone somewhere far down the corridor. Even my own breathing felt too loud, like it didn’t belong in a place built to contain things that weren’t meant to be free.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the markings carved faintly into the walls. They weren’t decorative. I could feel that much. There was something in them, something subtle but firm, like invisible chains woven into the stone.

Protection, Kael had called it but it felt more like a warning.

I leaned back slightly, pressing my palm against one of the markings, and a strange chill ran through my skin. Not painful, but enough to make me pull away instinctively.

“Don’t touch that.”

The voice cut through the room without warning.

I turned sharply and he was already inside.

I hadn’t heard the door open. I hadn’t heard footsteps. One second the room was empty, and the next, he was there, standing a few feet away like he had always been part of the shadows.

My chest tightened.

He looked like Kael, not exactly, but close enough that the resemblance was impossible to ignore. The same sharp features, the same commanding presence, but colder, harsher, like whatever softened Kael had been burned out of him completely.

This had to be one of them, one of the brothers...I heard of the maids talking about the return of the brothers.

He watched me without speaking, his gaze steady and unsettling in a way that made me feel like he wasn’t just looking at me, but through me.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said, even though my voice came out steadier than I felt.

A faint, humorless curve touched his lips. “Neither are you.”

That confirmed it, definitely a brother.

I stood slowly, keeping my distance. “Which one are you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering whether I was worth the answer. “Lucien.”

The name settled heavily and there was something calculated about him, something controlled in a way that made him more dangerous than someone openly aggressive.

“Well, Lucien,” I said carefully, “you should knock next time.”

That earned me a look, not surprised, not amused, just slightly sharper.

“I don’t knock,” he replied. “And you don’t make rules here.”

I crossed my arms, refusing to shrink under his tone. “Then why are you here?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a slow step closer, his eyes never leaving mine, as if measuring something invisible.

“Observation,” he said finally.

“I’m not an experiment.”

“No,” he agreed quietly. “You’re the reason people are going to die.”

The words hit, but I didn’t flinch, at least, not outwardly.

“That’s not on me,” I said.

“Everything is on you,” he replied. “You just don’t understand it yet.”

Frustration sparked in my chest. “Then explain it.”

His gaze darkened slightly, not with anger, but with something colder. “If you need it explained, you’re already a liability.”

I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “You came all the way here just to insult me?”

“I came to see if you were worth the risk Kael is taking.”

My chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t fear.

It was something else. “And?” I asked.

Lucien studied me for a long moment, the silence stretching between us until it felt like it might snap.

“I haven’t decided,” he said.

That annoyed me more than it should have.

“Well, take your time,” I replied. “It’s not like I asked him to do that.”

“No,” Lucien said, his voice dropping slightly, “you didn’t.”

Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist.

“He chose it,” I added.

“Yes,” Lucien agreed again, but this time there was something different in his tone, something sharper, more deliberate. “And that’s the problem.”

I frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”

“It means Kael doesn’t make reckless decisions,” he said. “Not without reason.”

“Maybe he just didn’t want me thrown out to die.”

Lucien’s gaze held mine, unblinking. “Kael does not protect people just because they might die.”

The words settled heavily in the room.

“Then why is he protecting me?” I asked quietly.

Lucien didn’t answer immediately, and for the first time since he walked in, there was a pause in his certainty, like he was choosing how much to say.

“That,” he said finally, “is what I came to figure out.”

I shook my head slightly. “So I’m just a puzzle to you?”

“You’re a threat,” he corrected. “Possibly a weapon. Potentially both.”

“That’s not exactly comforting.”

“It’s not meant to be.”

Silence fell again, thicker this time, filled with things neither of us was saying.

Then he moved again, slower now, stepping closer until the distance between us felt intentional.

“Do you remember anything?” he asked suddenly.

The question caught me off guard. “About what?”

“Before this,” he said. “Before the academy. Before tonight.”

I hesitated.

Fragments flickered in my mind, things I couldn’t fully piece together. Feelings more than memories. Shadows of something I couldn’t quite reach.

“No,” I said after a moment. “Not clearly.”

Lucien watched me carefully, as if weighing the truth of my answer.

“That’s inconvenient,” he murmured.

“For who?”

“For everyone.”

I let out a quiet breath. “You’re not making this any less confusing.”

“You’re not supposed to understand it yet.”

“That’s getting old.”

His lips almost curved again, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Get used to it.”

I stared at him, trying to read something, anything beyond the cold calculation in his expression. “Are you always this rude, or is it just me?”

“Just you.”

“Lucky me.”

For a brief second, something shifted, not enough to soften him, but enough to make him seem… human.

Then it was gone, he straightened slightly, his expression returning to that controlled calm. “Stay inside,” he said.

I blinked. “I don’t exactly have a choice.”

“You do,” he replied. “You just don’t understand the consequences yet.”

That didn’t sound reassuring before I could ask anything else, he turned toward the door.

“Wait,” I said.

He stopped, but didn’t turn back.

“What happens now?” I asked.

For the first time, there was a pause that felt different.

“He comes again,” Lucien said.

My chest tightened. “Orion?”

“Yes.”

“And this time?”

Lucien glanced back slightly, his expression unreadable.

“This time,” he said quietly, “he won’t run.”

The door opened, then closed and just like that, I was alone again.

But the silence didn’t feel the same anymore.

It felt heavier, like something had just begun.