The Tyrant's Queen

54: hunger

As Thalia raised her face above Lucien's shoulder for some air, she wrapped her arms around his back.

A sturdy, broad back with scars under this brutish metal armor, yet he was clinging to her like a child would to a mother.

"Sire-" She quickly abandoned her first attempt at disengaging herself from him. He wasn't budging.

Sheepishly, Thalia looked down at Mohan, who had become one with the flower hill, mouth hanging open.

At her movement, Lucien finally released her, scrutinizing her face as if looking at one feature at a time for the first time. His hands holding onto her face, he stared.

"You're not hurt anywhere?" he muttered, looking at her from head to toe.

"I'm not, sire. I had a happy life here," Thalia smiled, feeling the warmth of his palms against her cheeks.

"You do look healthier than when you were living in the palace." A small smile finally touched Lucien's mouth.

"You were hurt." Who'd done this to him? Thalia mumbled, examining the new scar on his face close-up.

"I barely felt it," he said dismissively, his gaze shifting to her hair. "I never imagined you with blond hair."

"You don't like it?"

Taking her hand and brushing his lips against it, Lucien closed his eyes. The spring wind caressed his hair, and a strand of it fell over his eye.

She'd forgotten how beautiful he was.

Kissing her palm, then her fingers, Lucien opened his eyes. "I worship every part of you, my queen," he said, hoarsely.

Thalia blushed under the stare of the simply traumatized armed Aesnanian soldiers on one side, and the perfectly frozen Mohan on the other.

Clearing her throat, Thalia gently retracted her hand. "Sire. Um-"

Following her embarrassed look at Mohan, Lucien straightened, now examining Mohan- who was getting paler by the second- as if he would scrutinize a new specimen animal.

Finally, Lucien laced his fingers through Thalia's, and smiled.

It was an awkward, clumsy but determined smile.

"If you want to have this thing- I mean, this man- have him. If you'd like, I'll give him a room next to yours. I'll give him the official position of your concubine, if that is what you want."

Blinking, Thalia stared at Lucien, and then at Mohan- who looked like he was about to pass about.

"Sire."

"I'll give you anyone and anything you want." Lucien trailed off, examining Mohan with poorly disguised disdain. "I won't disturb him or summon him to battle. I'll care for him as you like-"

"Sire, you're greatly mistaken," Thalia frantically cut in. "He is a friend. He and his aunt so graciously provided me accommodation and company the past four years."

At that, Lucien's eyes visibly brightened. Thalia almost laughed. What had happened to the inscrutable closed-book man?

"Truly?"

"Truly."

Turning to address one of his men on horseback, Lucien promptly ordered, "Protect this man till the end of battle, and help him find his aunt."

Before the suddenly mute Mohan could say anything, one of the soldiers came forward, and whisked him up on his horse.

"Wait- Mohan!" It was so sudden a goodbye, that it felt unreal. "Thank you. For the past four years. And please thank Maika too."