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It was the size ofalltwelve rooms in my attic with ocean-blue walls, and light, gauzy curtains with a delicate damask pattern billowed at the open floor-to-ceiling windows.

The space seemed to serve as both a study and a sitting room, one of the walls covered by many shelves full of strange books without any title on the spine. But the other end was about entertaining: a comfortable lounge, if a little formal.

Heading there, Lucian chose a wide green armchair with a high back, so elaborate it instantly made me think of a throne, and indicated a comfortable-looking sofa to Gideon and me.“Please.”

As promised, he had tea ready for us. I should have known he didn’t mean a quick breakfast cuppa. The set on the oddly modern coffee—a metallic base with a marble top reminiscent of the hall, and complementing the grandeur of the rest of the decor—was ten times more impressive than the one he’d used at the Guard. This was a silver-gilt service that I was certain belonged in a museum, or at the very least, in the Archives.

It looked as pristine as if it had been made yesterday, but I would have sworn this was an antique. I opted not to ask if it wasan original. I refused to knowingly drink from a Qing dynasty heirloom.

The only other thing on the table was a book, left open. Too curious to stop myself, I glanced and caught some…

I'll be damned.

Runes.

Lucian was reading a book fully written in ancient Norse runes. The kind I could decipher easily enough, not the nonsense on my skin. We had definitely come to the right place, if that was what he read in his free time. I tried to catch Gideon's eyes, but failed. My cousin was already in the middle of the sofa, sipping his cup of tea like a normal person.

Right. I was still standing uselessly in the middle of the room.

Ridiculously intimidated, I tiptoed to Lucian and wordlessly offered the box in my hand before backstepping to the sofa.

Lucian opened the lid, eyes growing wide. He immediately picked out a cupcake, and took a bite. I watched as his eyes closed.

“Oh, sweet Circe, witch amongst witches.”He made a noise that made my insidestingle.

Just as I willed my damn body to get a grip, our host redirected those eyes to me, the silver gray within dancing with mirth. “I know a bribe when I see one, Valesco. But it worked. I won’t get your friend fired.”

Some of my tension evaporating, I grinned back.

I thought I’d have to make a case for Silver, vouch for her character, promise to hold her back. All it took was cupcakes.

“Mostly because I’m too lazy to call a meeting," Lucian went on. "Besides, it would mean admitting a girl the size of a ten-year-old got a punch in. My brother would never let me forget it.”

As he polished off the rest of the treat in two bites, I chuckled, finally at ease, despite the fact that I was still sitting in a parlor fit for a queen.

It was hard to remember, after the trip leading us here, Gideon’s reveals and in this insanely imposing manor house, but Lucian wasn’t the haughty prince one would assume at first glance. The studied manners, formal wardrobe, and general snobbish vibe were just the outer layer. Upon acquaintance, he was easy to talk to and charming.

He also wiped his hands on an immaculate monogrammed handkerchief, so he wasn’t wholly normal either.

“Silver will be relieved to hear it. I’m truly sorry about her behavior. Wedidtell her you had nothing to do with it. She's just...stubborn," I said lamely.

I wanted him to understand my friend wasn't a bad person at heart, but the words failed me, just like they'd failed me when I tried to tell her he wasn't the kind of man who'd curse me without cause. Basically, they both wore cold, impregnable armor, and only removed it when comfortable.

“Nothing to do with what, exactly?” Lucian asked, head tilting to the left.

His box of sweets floated to Gideon, who helped himself to a cookie, then me. I waved it off to send it back to its owner.

Picking a second cupcake—he musttrulylike those—he said, “I was rather curious about my presumed crime, after all that. I take it whatever happened to you has something to do with Gideon's investigation.”

Thus prompted, I removed my blazer.

Lucian immediately stood, crossing the ten feet separating us faster than logic would deem possible.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded, ice in the threatening lilt of his voice, fire in those eerie eyes.

“I don’t know. That’s why we’re here.”

Gently, as though giving me the opportunity to tell him to back off, he brought a hand to my wrist, his thumb brushing one of the runes.