Chapter 77: A Twisted Relationship
The door closed softly.
Lakyus and Tina's footsteps faded down the corridor and eventually disappeared. The room settled into stillness. Only birdsong reached them occasionally from outside the window, and the scent of tea drifting slowly through the sunlit air.
Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows and fell across Renner's golden hair, setting it aglow.
She had her head tilted slightly. A few loose strands rested against her cheek, catching the light in small glittering threads.
Lucian sat in his chair and watched her quietly.
Renner watched him back.
Then that face — refined as an angel's, precise as something carved — began to shift, one degree at a time.
The corner of her mouth trembled first, then tilted to one side, curving into an angle that had no business existing on it. In those deep blue eyes, the soft light seemed to tear from the inside, peeling back to reveal whatever lay underneath.
Something pure. Something entirely unguarded.
Pleasure.
"Is that really the image you want to be projecting, Your Highness?"
Lucian's voice came into the quiet room with a note of mild resignation in it.
Renner gave a light laugh. The sound was still clear, but the pitch had climbed above its usual register, and the trailing note stretched out — like a plucked string that refused to stop vibrating.
"What does it matter, Lucian-chan."
She enunciated the syllables with particular care, as though savoring each one for the small, precise reactions it might produce on his face.
The curve at the corner of her mouth rose a little further. That unguarded smile in the sunlight was striking to the point of discomfort — and yet it fit her face in a way that was somehow entirely wrong and entirely right at once.
"You already knew, didn't you?"
She tilted her head. Her golden hair slid from her shoulder like silk loosened by a breeze.
"From the very first time we met. You saw through it."
Lucian didn't answer.
In truth, he had known before they ever met.
Having read the original story was something Renner could never deduce from first principles.
But what she said wasn't wrong, either. From the very first meeting, he had known exactly what kind of person she was.
That carefully maintained Golden Princess image she wore in front of everyone — it had been transparent to him from the very beginning.
He had simply never let that show.
Noble socializing was unavoidable. The Aindra family was prominent enough to send its heir to the King's councils, which meant Lucian could not entirely escape the smaller banquets. There was an unspoken rule to these gatherings: the heirs of noble houses collected, built connections, and occasionally touched on matters of some depth.
The older generation settled the Kingdom's fate in larger arenas. Their generation practiced the same skill set in these smaller rooms.
Lucian had always tried to avoid Renner at these events.
When avoidance became impossible, he ended the interaction as quickly as he could. A few pleasantries, a convenient excuse to leave, the whole exchange handled efficiently enough that no opening remained for her to continue the conversation.
That unusual behavior was what had caught her attention.
From where Renner stood, Lucian's avoidance was not a performance. It was not calculated social distance. It was someone who genuinely wanted to keep away.
That led her to a conclusion: Lucian was like her.
Someone who could endure the fools around him better than she could — and who had seen through her act on the very first meeting.
Over time, she learned about the reforms Lucian had been running in the Aindra domain. His development policies were ones she actually respected, which only reinforced the conviction.
The one thing she still couldn't work out was why he kept going back to the Dragon Kingdom every year.
Every year, he took his cavalry to that country being steadily ground down by the beastmen — to protect people who had no connection to him whatsoever.
It made no sense to her.
And because it made no sense, she found him interesting.
She had come to think of Lucian as someone wiser than herself — an existence she couldn't fully read. That thought had given her the abrupt feeling that the world held some meaning after all.
Unable to get close to him directly, she had chosen instead to befriend Lakyus. Through that relationship, she could work her way nearer to Lucian step by step. That guileless, earnest girl had become her bridge to him.
That was also why Lucian had found it impossible to prevent the two of them from meeting.
A moment of quiet settled over the room. The sunlight shifted by a small measure, drawing a new line across the floor.
"So — Lucian-chan decided to move against Eight Fingers because of Lakyus?"
Renner's voice came into the stillness, carrying a note that was difficult to name precisely.
Something like jealousy.
Lucian glanced at her.
Renner was looking at him, his face reflected in those deep blue eyes. The unguarded expression had given way to something else — calm and still, as though waiting for something.
"Not entirely."
Lucian returned his gaze to the paper on the table, the sheet covered in place names.
"You helped me as well. Consider this partial repayment."
He was not shameless enough to pass off a hand touching his cheek as adequate repayment for a real favor. Even he would find that argument difficult to sustain.
And by framing the Eight Fingers operation as repayment, he had cleared both the formal debt and the actual one in a single move. There would be no grounds for her to ask for anything further after this.
Renner went quiet.
Something surfaced on that face — something entirely different from what had been there a moment ago. As though something kept buried very deep had been touched, unexpectedly.
She lowered her head.
Her golden hair slid from her shoulder and covered the side of her face. Her shoulder trembled once — just slightly, the motion so small it was almost imperceptible.
Lucian didn't understand why his words had produced that expression.
This woman was a monster. Whatever she appeared to feel might simply be another form of performance.
He picked up the cold tea in front of him and took a small sip. The liquid was ice-cold, carrying a faint, slow-unfolding bitterness that spread across his tongue. He set the cup down and looked back at her.
"Speaking of which — I've always wanted to ask you something."
Renner raised her gaze. The composure had returned to her face as though it had never left, only a faint trace of redness remaining at the corner of one eye, so faint it might not have been there at all.
"How did you get that ring from the Warrior Captain?"
His tone was entirely casual — the quality of something mentioned in passing.
Renner gave a soft laugh.
"Really, Lucian-chan."
Her voice was light, the trailing note carrying a gentle, playful reproach. Those deep blue eyes reflected his face, holding something that came dangerously close to doting.
"You're clever enough to see through everything — and yet you don't know what image you have in the Warrior Captain's eyes?"