His disdainful smile pushes me away, the white dress shirt clinging to the muscles of his arm, drawing me in. His face is handsome as always, but his faked smile isn’t enough to hide the faintly purple circles under his eyes. I blink, throwing him a more brilliant smile than ever before, constructed out of sheer anger-cut glass.

“You’ve found me incredibly fine, Your Highness. Whatever can I do to repay you for your inquiring kindness?”

This doesn’t throw him. Of course it doesn’t. He’s endured these sorts of exchanges all his life. He blinks and runs a hand through his short black hair, mussing it more.

“Your smile, Lady Zera,” he says, voice dripping with honey-laced wrongness. “That’s all I’d request from you.”

For a second, I have no idea what to do or say. For the first time, I feel as if I’m squaring off against him as an equal. We’re both standing here, smiling at each other, knowing exactly what we both are. It’s no longer me deceiving him, secrets always up my laced sleeve. This is the two of us on equal footing.

At last.

His dark eyes hold me. He’s won this time. I can feel it as he walks away—his shoulders broad and proud. He’s won something invisible back from me. Something I didn’t even know I had taken.

I linger on the steps, staring at the one he’d been standing on. If I had a heartbeat, I know it would be painfully loud in my ears.

Sometimes, I catch glimpses of Lucien around the palace with Varia. Usually the two of them are accompanied by Fione. I watch them walk the gardens, laughing and teasing one another. Varia tucks daisies behind Lucien’s ear, and he grins sheepishly. Fione trips over roots or brick walkways, and Lucien reaches out to catch her before she falls. Varia never hesitates to kiss Fione’s hand at every opportunity. They ride horses together, Lucien challenging his sister to a race. Fione insists on riding the same horse as Varia, clinging to her back for dear life with a delighted red flush on her cheeks.

They are…happy. Lucien is happier than I’ve ever seen him before. I feel somehow guilty for watching them like this. But it’s the only time I can catch glimpses of his rare, golden smile, the true one, the one that squeezes my chest so hard it feels as if I have a heart again.

I watch, and I wonder, wistfully, what it would be like to join them.