Mostly, there was Calcifer. He rotated sleeping between them and Brielle’s pillow above her head. He never strayed far from his mistress; whether he understood how close they’d come to losing her or the trauma inherited in his adventure, he was firmly attached to Brielle.
As Luci watched the sunset through the evergreen trees and faraway mountains in the distance, she brushed a strand of hair from Brielle’s cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Brielle didn’t stir, but her breath was even, and her color was better than it had been in years. Her cheeks were pink, and her lips were rosy red. Exactly like the story of the sleeping princess.
Sometimes she would wonder if this was all a terrible trick. After all, the stories always said magic was never what it seemed. There were often prices to pay. Every now and then, she would get lost in those thoughts, and she would struggle to find air while worry racked her body. She needed to be calm for Brielle, so she pushed the thoughts down and buried them.
A knock on the door had her shifting, but she didn’t get up except to murmur that whoever it was could come in.
She was starting to get good at recognizing footsteps, and the heavy footfalls said it was one prince.
“Back again?” Luci asked.
“Yes, well, this time it’s for a favor,” Lucien said. “I’m not used to delivering meals, but here I am.”
He came around the opposite side of the bed and set a gold tray filled to the point of ridiculousness. Three drinks of varying colors, chicken, roast beef, potatoes, cheese, grapes, a slice of chocolate cake, and an apple pie.
“I’m not hungry, but thank you,” she added the last slightly begrudgingly, given she still did not like him.
He took his seat while simultaneously running his eyes over Brielle’s face, searching. The dark circles under his eyes had now retreated, and he was back to his princely state in a loose shirt and dark pants, hair freshly washed and styled. Part of the reason Luci tolerated him was that when she arrived, there was no denying how affected he was by Brielle's state. It made him a little human, but only a tiny bit.
“Listen, if you could just eat like a bite of something so my brother can stop harassing the kitchen staff and Gladys and me, I would be forever grateful. Apparently, because you aren’t eating, you are probably dying, because that is very unlike you. If this doesn’t improve soon, poor Max will be enlisted.”
“Max could never be coerced into doing anything,” Luci said.
Lucien shook his head with a chuckle that almost made him seem good-natured.
“I’ve been told you are stubborn, but think about it this way. People are going to begin to get suspicious when my brother is more concerned for his fiancée’s servant than his actual fiancée. So maybe eat a few bites to spare us that crisis.”
That was more the Lucien she knew and expected. Calculating and manipulative. She hated that he was right. No one knewthat Brielle dissolved the engagement, and until she woke up, it would only place scrutiny on her when she awoke.
Reaching over, she plucked a grape from the tray and plopped it into her mouth, glaring at Lucien.
“If I eat, will you leave?” she asked.
His smile fell as he leaned back in his chair.
“Why do you dislike me so much?” he asked.
This was not the conversation she wanted to be having. In fact, the only person she wanted to speak to was Brielle, but almost dying took a toll, and she was sleeping peacefully. As much as she didn’t want it, maybe it was better that it happened now while Brielle was asleep. Whatever attachment she’d formed to him was only temporary. After all, Luci spared her the knowledge of what an awful person he truly was.
“It meant nothing to you, didn’t it? The words cost you nothing, let alone the force,” she said, sitting up and meeting him inch for inch.
His brows furrowed together, and Luci knew she was right. A moment she played over and over in her mind was lost to his memory. Never filed away under life-changing moments that she replayed over and over in her mind. Wondering if she should have said or done more. Looking at him now, she knew it didn’t matter. It was never going to matter.
“What a shame such a proud house name went to such a weakling,” she recited with all the animosity it was originally spoken in.
Lucien’s lips thinned, and he sat a little straighter, running a hand over his face.
There was emotion there, but it was feigned.
“And then I said, thank the light above that you were born third so we’d never have to suffer a rule by an incompetent nitwit,” she said.
A long sigh broke loose from him, and he nodded, resignation in the drop of his shoulders.
“And then I struck you,” he said.
Luci brought her hand to her cheek as she often did when she recalled the memory, but this time she didn’t hide from it. She faced him and held his gaze.
“And then you struck me,” she said.