Luminara - Chapter Thirteen: Lucien Voss - Wattpad

Luminara

by NaturesQueen_

Luminara

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Luminara

Fantasy

They say the gods saved the world.
They lied.
Now the dead are speaking through forbidden bells, empires are bleeding secrets, and a forgotten force beneath reality is beginning to remember itself.
Zafira Kain was never meant to hear the truth.
But...

# ancient
# dark
# fairycore
# fictional
# mythical
# whimsical

The Emperor of Solaryn applauded like a man congratulating a performance he had already paid for.  
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Slowly.  
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Softly.  
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With just enough amusement to make Iria Solenne understand that every breath she took had become evidence.  
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She stood beneath the earth with stolen records hidden in her sleeve and the forbidden words Veins of Aethyr lying open on the stone table before her. Around them, the underground library breathed its old, damp silence. Chained books rested in shadowed shelves. Roots curled through black stone walls. Seven shallow grooves had been carved into the table at the center of the chamber.  
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One held fresh silver dust.  
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Lucien Voss stepped closer.  
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He did not move like the portraits claimed emperors moved. There was no grand sweep, no theatrical majesty, no hunger to fill the room with himself. That would have been easier to resist. He moved quietly, as if the room had already made space for him and he saw no reason to thank it.  
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Ivory and gold draped his body with effortless precision. The crimson lining of his robe flashed only when he walked. His dark hair had been swept back from a face too composed to be called merely handsome. Beauty, Iria had always believed, was safest when it was unaware of itself.  
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Lucien looked deeply aware.  
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His gold signet ring caught the low lantern light.  
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The Dominion sunburst gleamed on his hand.  
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"If you are going to steal from my Archivum, Iria," he said, "you should really take the originals."  
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Iria did not bow.  
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She realized the mistake the same moment she chose not to correct it.  
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"Your Majesty."  
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His smile widened slightly.  
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"Too late to make it convincing."  
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"I was startled."  
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"No. You were caught. Those are different things."  
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"I was researching."  
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"You were stealing."  
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"I am a historian."  
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"Many criminals have professions."  
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Her fingers tightened around the edge of the stone table.  
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Lucien noticed.  
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Of course he noticed.  
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He noticed everything the way knives noticed throats.  
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"I expected you to run," he said.  
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"That would have been undignified."  
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"Yes. But sensible."  
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"Then perhaps you do not know me as well as you think."  
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Lucien looked amused by that.  
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The lantern nearest him flickered, touching gold across his cheekbone and shadow beneath his eyes. He was close enough now that Iria could see the fine stitching along his sleeves, suns and spirals woven so delicately they almost disappeared into the cloth.  
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"Oh, I never make the mistake of thinking I know someone completely," he said. "People become boring the moment you finish explaining them."  
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"And yet you followed me."  
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"I followed the part of you that interested me."  
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"That sounds like something a dangerous man says before ordering an execution."  
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"I rarely order executions in libraries."  
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"Rarely."  
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His smile did not move.  
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"Exactly."  
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Iria's pulse beat hard beneath the stolen pages in her sleeve.  
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She thought of Jalen upstairs, young and frightened, deciding to be useful. She thought of Merrow's gloved hand surrendering the brass seal. She thought of Abin standing outside the restorative annex with the expression of a man who had seen too much and chosen survival too often.  
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If Lucien wanted her arrested, he could have had it done before she reached the lower stair.  
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If he wanted her dead, he would not have applauded.  
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That did not comfort her.  
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It only meant he wanted something else.  
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Lucien turned his attention to the fragment on the table.  
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The room seemed to still further, as though the chained books were listening.  
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"Veins of Aethyr," he read softly. "A dramatic name. Old orders were fond of drama. They confused terror for holiness and called fear wisdom."  
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Iria kept her voice steady. "You know what it means."  
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"I know several things it has meant."  
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"That is not an answer."  
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"No," he said. "It is a historian's answer."  
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She hated that he was right.  
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Lucien reached toward the fragment but stopped before touching it.  
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"May I?"  
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The question was so polite she almost laughed.  
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"It is yours, apparently."  
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His eyes lifted to hers. "Most things are mine, apparently. I still prefer consent when it costs me nothing."  
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Heat rose to Iria's face before she could stop it.  
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He saw that too.  
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Of course he did.  
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She stepped back from the table.  
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Lucien picked up the fragment with careful fingers. For all his power, he handled the page like something alive. That unsettled her more than disrespect would have.  
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A tyrant should have been careless with truth.  
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Lucien was not careless.  
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That made him worse.  
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"If the first remembers," he read, "the others begin to dream."  
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The silver dust in the nearest groove stirred.  
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Iria saw it.  
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So did he.  
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Neither of them spoke for several breaths.  
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Finally, Iria said, "So it is true."  
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"That depends which truth you mean."  
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"The Echoes."  
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"Yes."  
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"The western village."  
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"Yes."  
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"The names fading from active ledgers."  
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"Yes."  
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"The children in the white rooms."  
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Lucien's expression changed.