LUCIAN’S POV
Jace finally stood up and stretched his arms above his head with a loud yawn.
“Well, I think I have caused enough trouble for one night.”
I did not answer.
I was still staring at the door my mother had fled through, with my mind still stuck on the words she had let slip.
My mother had a lover.
The prim and proper Luna Dowager, the woman who lectured everyone about propriety and tradition, had a secret man.
And I had no idea how to process that.
Jace walked over and patted me on my shoulder.
“Good luck tonight, Lucian.
You are going to need it.”
I finally looked at him with a frown on my face, and asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”
He grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“It means you are a mess.
A lovesick, obsessed mess.
And I have a feeling tonight is either the best or worst night of your life.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he was already walking toward the door.
“Try not to do anything too stupid,” he called over his shoulder.
“And if you do, do not tell me about it.”
He reached for the door handle, then paused and turned back to face me.
His expression shifted from teasing to something more serious.
“Lucian, listen too me,” he said, waking back towards me.
“You should start preparing to go, before it gets too late.”
I looked at him, totally confused, and asked, “What?”
“To the tower,” he said simply.
“Go nie.
Do not wait until mthe middle of the night.
Go now and wait.
See what fate has for you and Nora.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to stop me.
“If she takes the risk and comes,” he continued, “then you will know if this is something worthwhile.
If she doesn’t…..” He shrugged.
“Then you will know she just want to be left alone.
Either way, you will have your answer.
And you will be able to move forward, one way or the other.”
I stared at him, as his words sank deep into my chest.
He was right.
I had been pacing and worrying, but I had not actually done anything.
It was time to stop thinking and start waiting.”
“Go,” Jace said, releasing my shoulder.
“Before you talk yourself out of it.
Consider it my little contribution to your love life.”
I let out a short laugh and shook my head.
“You are impossible.”
“I know,” he grinned.
“And that is why you keep me around.
Now go.
Do not keep her waiting.
Then the door clicked shut behind him, and I was finally alone.
I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space where he had been, as the silence of the room pressed in on me, thick and heavy.
My mother’s secret, my feelings for Nora, the tower waiting for me — everything swirled in my head like a storm.
Tonight.
The tower.
I had asked Nora to meet me.
I had told her I would wait for her.
And now, I had to actually go and wait.
I had no idea if she would come.
She could be lying in her bed right now, trying to forget I existed.
She could be laughing at my request with Tessa, calling her foolish.
Or she could be lying awake, just like me, wondering if she should take the risk.
I had to try.
I had to see her.
I had to make her understand what I felt, even if she refused to hear it.
I changed out of my formal clothes into simething simpler — dark trousers, and a loose shirt.
I ran my hands through my hair, trying to make myself look presentable.
Not that it mattered.
If she came, she would not care what I looked like and if she did not, nothing I did would make a difference.
I left my chambers and walked through the dark hallways of the palace.
The corridors were empty and silent, lit only by the occasional flickering touch.
Everyone was asleep and dreaming peaceful, while I was wide awake, with my heart pounding with anticipation and fear.
The east wing was the oldest part of the palace, rarely used and mostly forgotten.
The tower was at the very end of a long, winding corridor.
I had discovered it years ago when I was a young boy, exploring places I was not supposed to go and I had not visited it since.
But tonight, it was the only place that felt right.
I pushed open the geavy wooden door and stepped inside.
The tower was cold and dusty, and the air was so thick with the smell of old stone and forgotten memories.
Moonlight streamed through the narrow windows, which casted pale shadows across the floor.
There was an old bench against the wall, a few broken crates in the corner, and nothing else.
Cobwebs hung from the ceiling like delicate curtains, and the floor was covered in a thin layer of dust.
I leaned against the stone wall and waited.
Minutes passed.
I told myself she was just being cautious.
She would come.
She had to come.
Half an hour passed.
I started to pace,with my footsteps echoing in the empty space.
The sound was too loud in the silence, but I could not stop moving, because standing still felt like admitting defeat.
Then an hour passed.
I sat down on the cold floor, with my back pressed against the wall, and stared at the doorway.
The stone was cold beneath me, but I barely felt it.
All I could feel was the painful ache in my chest, the desperate hope that she would walk through that door.
Then my mind drifted to our night together.
The way she had looked at me in the club, shy and uncertain, like she did not believe anyone could want her.
The way she had relaxed in my arms, letting herself feel something for the first time in years.
The way she had whispered my name in the dark, like it was a prayer.
I thought about her pushing me away in the hallway, her eyes full of fear.
I thought about her kissing me back in her chambers, with her hands fisting in my shirt like she could not let go.
I knew she wanted me.
I knew she felt it too.
She felt the pull just as strongly.
So why was she not here?
I told myself she was just scared.
She needed more time to trust me.
She needed to see that I was not like the others, like Trevor, like everyone who had hurt her.
She needed to know that I would never leave her, never make her feel like she was not enough.
I closed my eyes and imagined her walking through the door.
I imagined the look on her face when she saw me, the way her lips would part in surprise.
I imagined pulling her into my arms and kissing her until she forgot every reason she had to stay away.
I imagined holding her close, feeling her heartbeat against mine, and telling her that everything would be alright.
The moon moved across the sky.
I watched it through the narrow windows, tracking its slow, steady path.
Time crawled by slowly, each minute feeling like an hour.
I had never prayed before, and I had never believed in anything more than myself.
But sitting there in that cold, dark tower, I prayed.
I prayed she would come.
I prayed she would give me a chance.
I prayed she would see that I was worth it, and I prayed that she would let herself be happy.
But she did not come.
The hours dragged on.
The cold seeped into my bones, but I barely noticed.
My eyes stayed fixed on the doorway, waiting, hoping.
I did not move an inch, and I did not blink.
I just stared, willing her to appear.
I thought about all the reasons she might have stayed away.
Fear.
Guilt.
Loyalty to my mother.
The voice in her head that told her she was not enough.
I hated that voice.
I wanted to find it and destroy it, to prove to her that it was lying.
I waited until the first light of dawn began to creep through the cracks in the stone.
The darkness turned to gray, then to pale gold.
The birds began to sing outside, oblivious to my heartbreak.
And still, she did not come.
I stood up slowly, my legs stiff from sitting so long.
My body ached, but the pain in my chest was worse.
I walked to the doorway and looked out at the empty corridor.
The silence mocked me with the realization….
She was not coming.
I had given her my word.
If she did not show, I would leave her alone, and I always kept my word.
But that did not make it hurt any less.
I turned and walked away, with my footsteps heavy on the stone floor.
The tower faded behind me, and I tried to push her out of my mind.
But I knew it was impossible.
She had already become a part of me.
And no amount of distance would change that.