The moon hung high over the House of Valeris, silver light spilling across the manicured gardens. Shadows danced across the marble floors of Niana's room as she stood at the window, cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders, mask clutched in one hand.
Her heart hammered, but her mind was racing faster. The heroine is supposed to be at the auction… Kael isn't moving there… that won't do. Someone has to go.
Niana's lips pressed into a determined line. If I don't… then everything goes wrong. And I'm not letting that happen.
Carefully, she slid the window open. A gust of cool night air whispered against her skin. One careful step, another… and she was about to descend when a voice, smooth and deadly calm, cut through the quiet night.
"Miss, where do you think you are going… in the middle of the night?"
Niana froze. Her pulse skipped. That voice—low, measured, slightly amused—belonged to someone who always managed to appear at the wrong moment: Lucien.
She blinked at him, moonlight catching the golden strands of his hair. His blue eyes, sharp as winter ice, held that faintly exasperated expression he always wore when she did something unpredictable. He stepped closer, hands behind his back, posture perfect. Even in the shadows, he radiated control and quiet menace.
"Lucien?!" Niana whispered, panic and calculation warring in her chest.
"I must ask," he continued, voice smooth, almost silk over steel, "why would Mistress… choose to leave the manor at this hour?"
Niana straightened, clutching her mask tightly. I can't tell him the whole plan… not yet. But… I can manipulate him.
"I… I must attend to… urgent matters," she said, feigning seriousness. "Very urgent."
Lucien's brows knitted, but there was a subtle spark in his gaze—curiosity, caution… and perhaps something else she couldn't name. "Urgent matters… in the dead of night? Miss… Velaris, are you certain this is wise?"
She spun on him, eyes blazing with conviction, voice firm. "Yes! Absolutely! I must go. No questions. No… objections. I insist."
Lucien's lips twitched, just barely. "You… insist?" He took a step closer, tone softening ever so slightly. There was that undertone in his voice—calm, collected, but carrying just enough warmth to make her stomach twist. "Then… if you truly insist on this… I must accompany you."
Niana blinked, momentarily disarmed. "W-What?"
"You heard me," he said, voice low, even, and yet impossible to ignore. "If you leave, you do so at night, through shadows and danger… Mistress, I cannot allow you to face the night unaccompanied. I must go with you."
She bit her lip, a sly smile forming. Perfect. "Fine. You're coming. But…" She leaned closer, whispering, her words a teasing hiss, "You'll have to play a part. Nobleman. Mask. Pretend we're a… couple."
Lucien blinked, expression unreadable… and then the faintest, almost imperceptible smirk curved his lips. "A couple?"
"Yes!" Niana hissed, eyes gleaming with mischief. "At the auction. Subtle. Convincing. Don't speak unless necessary. And… look charming."
Lucien's gaze softened just a fraction, his posture shifting subtly to accommodate her plan without protest. "Very well, Miss. But… I must note…" He stepped closer, voice low, breath just above hers. "You look… dangerously captivating tonight."
Niana's cheeks flamed under the mask, but she kept her smirk. Yes. This works.
Within minutes, Lucien had been transformed from composed butler into striking nobleman: deep midnight-blue coat, silver embroidery, fitted trousers, subtle mask concealing just enough of his expression to maintain intrigue. His hair caught the moonlight, eyes still piercing, calm, and impossibly… alluring.
She adjusted her cloak, a deep crimson trimmed in black lace, flowing like shadowed fire, carefully chosen to give off a "villainess" aura. A delicate mask, black with silver filigree, rested in her hand. Perfect. Dramatic. Intimidating. Totally blends in… if anyone's foolish enough to look at me.
She gave him a sharp, conspiratorial nod. "Good. Now… let's move before anyone notices the 'unplanned couple' sneaking through the manor."
Lucien inclined his head. "Understood."
And together, they stepped into the night, shadows swallowing their movements. Every step was calculated, quiet, yet charged with the unspoken tension of a plan—and the thrill of the unknown.
Tonight… the auction begins. And I control how this story unfolds.
Lucien, walking silently beside her, noted every detail: her posture, her grip on the mask, the gleam in her eyes. She believes she is leading. Yet… I will follow. Always.