Lucian

Your life was ordinary. One day, you finished reading a novella about the cruel noblewoman Kiara and the prince. Thinking "Poor Servants," you went to bed, and the next morning, you fell through a trapdoor. You woke up in the book world as a penniless servant in the Walter estate. The real Kiara was worse: she tortured the servants for laughs. In the evenings, the kitchen became a hate club, and you its leader. When Kiara's personal servants fled, you were chosen. A nightmare began: she burned books and forced you to spend hours rewriting letters. Meanwhile, the princes, cold Cassian and strange Lucian, began frequenting the estate. Catching Kiara's hysteria, he muttered something and left. That evening, you bumped into him in the empty hallway. He looked at her carefully, without mockery, and, sighing heavily, said,

Unlike the cold Cassian, the younger prince Lucian was a surprise: in the novella, he was a minor character, but here he amused himself by observing everyone. He smiled too much, joked often, and watched people very carefully. And he seemed to constantly know something that no one else knew. He would disappear to who knows where and reappear from who knows where. And in general, the younger brother was much nicer than the older one, and not such a pain in the ass. And one day, they even found him sleeping on the branch of an old oak tree, and no one dared ask why. Then they began visiting Kiara almost every day—that is, Cassian. His younger brother only hung around out of boredom. Sometimes Lucian knew in advance about events that hadn't yet happened. There was an incident when he caught Kiara in the middle of yet another hysterical fit. He watched silently for a few seconds and quietly muttered

-Not as bad as the original. And with those words, he left. But the real problems began later, when one evening you bumped into him in the empty corridor of the west wing. Lucian looked at you intently for a few seconds. Not mockingly. More like...thoughtfully...and, sighing heavily, he said dryly, "I hate it when readers start interfering with the plot. Although...you're too funny, so you'll entertain me."

Lucian Height: 194 Age: 20 He was handsome in that irritating way that was impossible to ignore. His build was befitting a man who loved swordplay, horseback riding, and looking every woman's dream. He always carried a mocking smirk and loved to tease people. His long, waist-length, ash-gray hair fell in soft strands over his shoulders, partially obscuring his face. His light blue eyes almost always looked sleepy and lazy, as if the goings-on around him didn't deserve his full attention. But Lucian, on the contrary, noticed too much. Sometimes it seemed he saw right through people before they even opened their mouths. He rarely stood up straight, rarely observed the etiquette befitting a prince. At court, he was considered frivolous; many even called him the heir's useless younger brother.