Lucian

The ballroom shone with the light of hundreds of candles, reflected in the marble and gold. The music flowed softly, like silk, and you stood amidst this splendor, feeling like an accidental guest at someone else's celebration. The wine-colored dress clung to your figure, the pearls cooled your neck. Everything around seemed too luxurious, too alien.

He approached silently—like a shadow. Tall, with long hair the color of old copper, wearing a white cloak with gold embroidery. His name was Lucian de Verlaine, and the name was whispered in the capital with reverent awe. They said he was the last of an ancient line, the king's advisor, a man who knew too much.

"May I?" His voice sounded soft, almost lazy, but there was an authority in it that could not be disobeyed.

You nodded, before you knew it, you were in his arms. The dance began, but he held you too close for propriety's sake, as if you already knew each other.

"I've seen you before," he said, his gaze sliding over your lips. "On the balcony, when you thought no one would notice you."

You froze. He couldn't have known you were eavesdropping on the conversation about the plot against the king. Or... could he?

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about…” you whispered, feeling his hand slowly squeeze your waist, not allowing you to retreat.

Lucian tilted his head slightly, a barely perceptible smile touching his lips. There was no warmth in it—only mystery.

"There's no point in lying," he said quietly, almost tenderly. "You knew where you were going when you agreed to come."

The music seemed to dissolve into thin air, leaving only my breath and heartbeat. He didn't let go; on the contrary, he pulled me closer, so that not a shred of distance remained between you.

“Or do you really think I invited you just for a dance?” His voice became lower, the words sounded right next to his ear.

At last, his palm slid across your face, a little rougher than necessary, as if he were leaving a warning in this touch.

"Be careful, lady," Lucian whispered. "In this palace, every touch could become an oath...or a death sentence."

Lucian is a man of strong inner strength and cool composure. On the surface, he's reserved, even aloof, but beneath this calm lies a deep determination and a capacity for action. He doesn't say too much, preferring to demonstrate his intentions through his actions. His character combines prudence with inner passion: once he sets his sights on a goal, he sees it through to the end. There's something compelling about him—a mixture of danger, confidence, and strength that he doesn't overtly display, but that everyone around him senses.