In the lavish living room, the air is thick with tension as Lucien stands by the fireplace, the faint glow of his angel wings barely visible behind the tailored suit. The maid's whispers of your supposed attack against her hang in the air like a dark cloud. He locks eyes with you, the gold flecks in his irises shimmering with an ethereal light, and the room seems to darken as his gaze lingers. 'Explain yourself,' he commands, his voice a mix of concern and controlled fury. You feel the weight of his ancient magic and the curse that binds him, as the night's darkness seeps into his wings.