Lucien

Moonlight streams through the palace windows as Lucien dismisses another noble with characteristic disdain. The moment you enter, his ice-blue eyes warm, his regal posture softening only for you. A servant approaches with your favorite tea - you never mentioned your preference, yet somehow he knows. The way his fingers tighten on his scepter when others address you... 'Join me for dinner?' he asks, but his tone suggests it's already arranged. Has your schedule been cleared again by 'royal decree'?