Chapter 126 An Hour Too Long

They left the cabin just after midday, the horse moving at an easy pace along the forest path. Lucien rode with Elian settled securely in front of him, one arm wrapped firmly around the smaller man’s waist the entire way.

Neither of them spoke much. The weight of everything that had passed between them still sat heavy and quiet, but it no longer felt crushing. It felt shared.

By the time the tall gates of the Valemont manor came into view, the sun had begun its slow descent.

Servants hurried forward the moment the horse was spotted. Lucien dismounted first, then reached up and lifted Elian down as though he weighed nothing, steadying him with both hands on his waist for a moment longer than necessary.

"You still look pale," Lucien murmured, eyes searching Elian’s face.

"I’m fine." Elian gave him a small, tired smile. "Just... a lot to carry."

Lucien’s jaw tightened. He wanted nothing more than to take Elian straight upstairs, lock the door, and keep the world outside for another day. But duty and truth both waited.

Inside the main hall, the atmosphere shifted. Footmen bowed. A steward approached with a stack of sealed letters. The familiar weight of the duke’s responsibilities settled over Lucien’s shoulders like a cloak he could not yet cast off.

Elian felt it too. He stepped slightly apart, already sensing the separation that had to come.

"I need to find my mother," he said quietly. "She has to know... everything. About the framing. About what I saw. About us."

Lucien’s hand found Elian’s wrist, fingers brushing the pulse point in a silent promise. "I know."

A young page appeared at Lucien’s side, murmuring something about the king’s latest missive and a council meeting that could not be delayed. Lucien dismissed the boy with a curt nod, then turned fully to Elian.

He cupped Elian’s face with both hands, thumbs stroking gently along his cheekbones.

"Listen to me," he said, voice low and intense so that only Elian could hear. "Go to her. Tell her what she needs to know. Stay as long as she needs you. But do not take too long." His forehead rested briefly against Elian’s. "Come back to me. Tonight. I don’t care how late. I want you in my bed when the day is over. Understood?"

Elian’s lips curved into a soft, private smile. "So demanding, your grace."

"Only when it concerns you." Lucien pressed a lingering kiss to his mouth—quick enough not to draw open stares, deep enough that Elian felt it all the way to his bones. "I’ll be in the study dealing with whatever nonsense the capital has sent. If you need me before then, send word. Or just walk in. The door will not be locked against you."

Elian nodded, fingers briefly curling into the front of Lucien’s coat. "I’ll come back. I promise."

Lucien’s hands tightened once more, reluctant, then released him. "Go. Before I change my mind and lock you in my chambers instead."

Elian gave him one last look—full of everything still unspoken—and turned toward the eastern wing where his mother’s rooms had been prepared. Lucien watched him until he disappeared around the corner, then exhaled slowly and squared his shoulders.

There was a kingdom to dismantle, a king to expose, and a future to build.

But first, there were duties to attend to.

And after that... Elian would return to him.

Elian reached his mother’s door and took a deep breath, lifting his hand to knock.

"Elian?" Ms. Morel called behind him.

Elian froze, realising his mother was not inside her room. He turned and faced her, his eyes no longer guarded but expressive and raw, ready to tell his mother everything he’d learnt.

"Mother," he called quietly.

Ms. Morel stared at him apprehensively for a while before her eyes widened. "You recognise me now?" She asked slowly.

Elian nodded. "Yes, mother–"

"Oh, Heavens, my boy!" She covered the space between them and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly like she would never let go.

"My boy!" She whispered, her tears falling from her eyes. "W-What happened to you? What did that monster do to you–"

"I’m fine, mother... I’m sorry for everything and..." Elian sighed. "Lucien is not the monster... I love him."

Ms. Morel’s hands fell from Elian’s shoulders, her eyes darting around his face. "He did something to you.... what has he done to you?" She asked, voice trembling.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "I thought you were wiser than this, Elian. Just because a man takes you to his bed does not mean he is that good in other parts of his life–"

"Mother, stop," Elian said and took her hands, looking into her eyes. "The same way you see your anger toward him, that’s the same way I saw his trauma, his remorse, pain, and fears... he is seeking revenge just like we are, and we have one common enemy." He informed, voice lowered.

Ms. Morel frowned. "He let you hold him?" She asked slowly, still in disbelief. "You touched him... why did he let you?"

Elian smiled softly. "Because..." he trailed off as a maid walked by, staying quiet until she was out of sight.

"Can we talk inside, Mama?" He asked.

Without speaking she led him into her room.

"Now, tell me why you think the Duke is innocent and please, do not tell me it’s because you share his bed." She stated sternly, folding her arms in front of the door.

Elian faced her, watching the tight frown on his mother’s face. "He loves me, mother... he really does. Also, like I said, I’ve seen him, all of him, and it will shock you to know what I’ve learnt."

Ms. Morel looked at her son for a moment, and then she sighed. "Tell me, then. Tell me why I should find it in my heart to forgive the man who killed the love of my life, and is slowly turning my son into something the kingdom forbids–"

"He didn’t turn me, mother..." Elian cut in smoothly. "I’ve always been like this, just needed the right person to see me..." He murmured, shy.

"Just speak, Elian. And if I am not satisfied, I am dragging you out of this manor with me, and we’re leaving this kingdom entirely." She said, walking over to the small stool to settle herself beside her bed.

After an hour, Elian was walking toward Lucien’s study, a relieved smile appearing on his face for the first time in a very long time.

His mother had listened, and she had surprised him by agreeing to help in the investigation. Now it was not just him and Lucien—he had his mother with them, even though she was yet to fully accept their relationship. He was ready to take it slow with her.

He reached the heavy oak door of the study and paused only a second before pushing it open.

Lucien stood near the large desk, speaking in low, measured tones to an older guard whose silver-streaked hair and stiff posture marked him as one of the long-serving men of the household. A sealed letter lay open between them. The moment the door creaked, both men looked up.

Elian hesitated on the threshold. The formal atmosphere, the presence of the guard, the stack of documents—everything about the scene made him feel as though he had interrupted something important. He took a half-step backward, already preparing to murmur an apology and withdraw.

"Elian."

Lucien’s voice cut through the room, calm but carrying an undercurrent that only Elian would recognise. The duke’s eyes flicked briefly to the guard, then back to Elian with deliberate casualness.

"Wait a moment," he said, as if addressing any other member of the household. "I won’t be long."

Elian froze, hand still on the doorframe. Lucien turned back to the guard, expression composed, the perfect picture of a busy noble finishing an ordinary task. He reached for the letter, scanned the final lines once more, and signed it with a swift, decisive stroke of the quill. The soft scratch of the pen was the only sound for a few heartbeats.

"That will be all for now," Lucien said, folding the letter and handing it over. "See that it is delivered by nightfall. And close the door on your way out."

The old guard bowed, glanced once at Elian with polite curiosity, and left. The heavy door shut with a solid, final click.

The second the latch engaged, Lucien crossed the room in three long strides.

Elian barely had time to draw breath before strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him flush against a solid chest. Lucien’s face buried itself in the curve of Elian’s neck, inhaling deeply as if he had been holding his breath the entire time they were apart.

"You’re back," Lucien murmured against his skin, voice rough with relief. "I told myself I would wait patiently. I lied."

Elian’s hands rose automatically, sliding up Lucien’s back, fingers curling into the fine fabric of his coat. The tension he had carried since leaving the cabin melted under the heat of that embrace.

"I told her," he whispered. "Everything. She’s... not ready to accept us fully, but she listened. She’s willing to help."

Lucien’s arms tightened, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Elian’s head. "Good. That’s more than I expected. More than I deserved."

He pulled back just enough to look into Elian’s eyes, searching, then kissed him—slow at first, then deeper, as though reclaiming every minute they had spent apart. When they finally parted, Lucien rested his forehead against Elian’s.

"I missed you," he admitted quietly. "Even for an hour."

Elian’s soft smile curved against Lucien’s lips. "Then next time," he murmured, "dismiss the guard a little faster."

Lucien let out a low, warm laugh and kissed him again.