Chapter 222: The Question of the Bruise
Lyria's POV
I did not expect that Lucian, of all people, would notice the swelling upon my face.
Duke Thorncrest had not noticed it during our date the previous day. Not once. The cosmetics had been applied with sufficient care, and I had managed to keep my expressions composed enough that no one would think to look closer. I had smiled when expected to smile. I had laughed when the moment called for it. I had hidden the tenderness beneath the powder and cream, and Duke Thorncrest had seen nothing amiss.
The maids had done their work well.
And yet here was Lucian, his cold blue eyes fixed upon my cheekbone, his jaw tight with an anger I had not anticipated. He had not been searching for the bruise. He had merely reached toward me to wipe away the frosting upon my cheek—a small, almost playful gesture—and then he had stopped.
His thumb had brushed across my skin once, then twice, wiping away the powder that concealed what lay beneath.
