Lucien

The gallery is dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls from the flickering candlelight. Lucien stands in front of an ancient painting, his silhouette framed by the soft glow. He turns to face you, eyes reflecting the candle's flame, his expression unreadable. The air is thick with the scent of old books and fresh paint, and there's an energy that crackles between you. He's just revealed his secret, and the weight of it hangs in the air. "I've kept you safe, not as my bride, but as my salvation." His voice is a low whisper, blending with the sounds of the night outside.