When Lucien opened the box, he froze.
Inside was a crown.
His crown.
It was made of gold, detailed with intricate carvings that reflected masterful craftsmanship. At the center sat a sapphire, polished and carved to perfection. It was breathtaking.
A true work of art.
But to Lucien… it was much more than that.
This was the crown he had once worn as King Consort.
The very same one.
It had been given to him reluctantly by his mother-in-law under the orders of the late king. It symbolized his position, his identity… everything he once was.
He had treasured it deeply.
And now…
It was being handed to him again, as the heirloom of the Dallas family.
A sharp pain pierced his chest.
This was not just an object. It carried memories, emotions, a past life he thought he had lost forever.
His fingers trembled slightly as he held it.
For a moment, he could only stare.
After forcing himself to calm down, Lucien closed the box gently and stood up. Then, without hesitation, he stepped forward and hugged Lady Dallas.
"Mother… this is the best gift I've ever received," he said softly. "I will keep it safe. I promise."
Lady Dallas was deeply satisfied with his reaction.
If he had treated it casually, she would have been disappointed. Passing down a family heirloom was never a simple act. It carried trust, responsibility, and sentiment.
But seeing his emotional response, she felt reassured.
She could sense his sincerity.
Lyra walked up to him and looked at him with a small smile.
"Happy?" she asked.
Lucien nodded.
Later, Lady Dallas insisted that they stay the night. Lyra rarely stayed over, but if Lucien agreed, she had no choice but to stay as well.
In the end, they stayed.
Lady Dallas personally showed them to Lyra's room, which had already been prepared. Fresh clothes and essentials for Lucien were neatly arranged, as if everything had been planned in advance.
After dinner and some time spent with the family, Lucien returned to the room, while Lyra went to the study to speak with her grandfather.
Lucien entered the bathroom to take a shower.
His clothes were left neatly on the bed.
A few minutes later, Lyra entered the room. Hearing the sound of running water, she realized he was still in the bathroom.
Her eyes fell on the clothes laid out on the bed.
A slow, mischievous smile appeared on her lips.
When Lucien finished showering, he stepped out wearing a white bathrobe, unaware that someone else was in the room.
He walked toward the bed… and froze.
Lyra was standing there, holding his clothes, smiling like she had just planned something.
His first instinct was to turn back, but before he could, she grabbed his arm and pulled him closer.
They were suddenly standing too close.
He could feel her presence, her warmth, her scent.
He tried to step back, but she didn't let go.
For a moment, he sighed and simply wrapped his arms around her, giving in to the moment.
That was enough.
Her gaze changed instantly.
Slowly, she leaned closer.
Their lips met.
At first, the kiss was soft, almost hesitant. But it didn't stay that way for long.
It deepened, emotions taking over.
Lucien lost himself for a moment, responding instinctively, forgetting everything else.
Lyra held onto him tightly, her body weakening slightly as she leaned into him.
Sensing this, Lucien steadied her, holding her firmly so she wouldn't fall.
But then—
Reality hit him.
He pulled back abruptly, his breathing uneven.
Without saying a word, he picked up his clothes from the floor and walked straight back into the bathroom.
Lyra stood there, stunned.
Everything had happened so quickly that she couldn't react.
She groaned and hit her forehead lightly.
"Seriously… I should've controlled myself," she muttered. "He might have continued…"
After changing, she returned to the bed.
A while later, Lucien came out, now fully dressed.
He gave her a firm look.
"Lyra, we agreed not to go too far. Didn't we?"
She immediately sat up. "No, no… I won't do it again," she said quickly. "I just lost control. And don't act like it was only me. You were enjoying it too."
Lucien frowned. "You're wrong. I wasn't—"
"You were," she cut in, raising an eyebrow.
He went silent.
She smirked slightly, clearly not backing down.
Lucien sighed, clearly not wanting to argue further, and went to bed.
Lyra followed shortly after.
By the time she lay down, he was already asleep.
She looked at him for a moment, then leaned forward and gently kissed his forehead.
"Goodnight," she whispered softly.