LUCIEN - Side By Side

LUCIEN

Side by side Lucien and Mera sipped wine.

After speaking to the small woman with Rhyers, Mera turned and met the proud gaze of her husband who stood apart from the crowd. She reached his side, and he found her hand.

Bringing it to his lips to kiss her fingers.

“What a treasure you are, My Love.” He said.

The men behind her gave robust shouts.

Mera whispered to him that she needed to have the talk she’d been attempting with Nora. “Please, I’ve missed her.”

She couldn’t get time alone with her at the ball. Nor at Acharius’ wedding. Despite our best efforts.

“Go ahead.” He encouraged. “I’m sure she has much to tell you too.”

About the Captain, no doubt.

She needs this. He reluctantly let her hand go and she scurried off to find her friend.

The women were engrossed in animated conversation for much time before Mera returned to him. Her friend in tow.

“Nora meet Lucien. Lucien, Nora.”

“Hello, Fallen.” He greeted.

“I prefer, Nora.”

“Nora, ’tis.”

“And you, have you been good to my friend?” Nora asked.

Lucien cleared his throat and shifted. Not persay good.

“Yes, he was.” Mera gave him a meaningful look. “The perfect gentleman.”

He choked slightly. Far from.

But then, she’s a bit different than most ladies, as well.

They exchanged a knowing grin and she moved to take his arm. Electing to drink her wine next to him.

After a time, Lucien realized he and Meralee were the only ones remaining on the dancefloor.

“Where have they all gone?” Mera questioned in astonishment.

He turned his lips in a lopsided grin. Twisting with her hand in his, he led her from the Ballroom and outside.

A few men still in white cloaks milled along the steps. But their number had far dwindled. There were the sounds of slapping sails in the quiet air as dragons climbed into the sky. The howling of wolves echoed near the trees across the lawn.

Lucien turned eyes the shade of hot amber on her. Brightening his darkly handsome features. His raven’s wing hair flowing back to his collar to meet his immaculate overcoat.

She reached up and turned his collar into his hand.

“What are you doing?” His brow knitted. Knowing he didn’t have a hair out of place.

“Your clothes, like all your things, must be a certain way.”

“Meaning?”

“You like all things to be as they should be. All things neat and organized.”

“Except you.” He gave her a side eye. “You’re a chaotic, consistent little thorn jabbing at me. You’re irritable, strong-willed and quickly take affront. But I enjoy you disrupting my life.”

“Have I earned a dragon’s heart then?” She teased.

“Safe to say.”