Court Of Shadows and Lies

27. Learning His Place

I stepped back and admired my handiwork, smoothing out the last wrinkle in Serene’s shirt. His posture was stiff, unsure, but he looked… regal, despite the ill-fitting clothes. His off-white shirt hugged his torso too tightly, and the black pants were awkwardly high at the ankles, yet there was something about him that exuded quiet nobility.

I need to get him new clothes.

The maids stood silently in the corner, heads bowed low, waiting for my next command. I turned my attention toward them, straightening Serene's collar as I spoke. “Bring the tailor to my room by noon,” I said, making it clear I expected immediate action. “My little Serene needs new clothes.”

They quickly nodded and, with a wave of my hand, they hurried out of the room. Now, it was just the two of us.

Serene stood there, glancing down at himself, clearly uncomfortable in the tight shirt. But even so, he looked… princely. The sight made me smirk. He’s prettier than half the nobles in this Kingdom. The thought of Duke Davian and High Lunarch Tiberius having competition from someone like Serene was amusing.

I let out a soft chuckle, unable to resist the humor of it.

“What?” Serene asked, his eyes wide, the innocence in his voice almost endearing.

I glanced up at him, meeting his gaze, and ruffled his hair playfully. “You look better this way, you know?”

He shook his head, clearly not understanding the effect he had.

Of course, he doesn’t realize how breathtaking he is. There was a certain charm to his ignorance, but I would teach him soon enough how to carry himself, how to use that beauty and vulnerability to his advantage—or more accurately, to mine.

I arrived at my father’s chambers, Serene trailing silently behind me, his presence barely noticeable to anyone else, but I knew better. Duke Cyrion had summoned me—no, commanded my presence—and that in itself was enough to set my nerves on edge. My father rarely bothered with me unless there was something he wanted.

As I stepped into the room, I kept my expression neutral, my body language poised, as if this were any other meeting. But I could feel the tension, like a viper coiled in the corner, ready to strike. Cyrion sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair, his gaze shifting from me to Serene.

“Father,” I greeted with a formal nod, standing before him. “You called for me.”

His eyes didn’t leave Serene. That cold, calculating stare of his appraised the boy like a merchant evaluating damaged goods. Finally, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as his sharp gaze flicked to me. “I wanted to see for myself the mere slave you purchased.”

I raised an eyebrow, feigning mild interest, but inside I smirked.

Underestimating Serene already, are you, father?

“You disappoint me, Cessalie,” he said bluntly, his voice dripping with the usual disdain. “I thought, perhaps, you would buy something useful. A weapon, perhaps. A tool with some real power.”

I kept my face neutral, though inwardly I relished his ignorance. Oh, father, if only you knew.

“He serves his purpose,” I replied, my tone measured, as if there was nothing more to discuss. Serene stood perfectly still beside me, his expression obedient, as always—exactly the image I wanted my father to see.

Cyrion’s gaze hardened as it flicked back to Serene, scanning him from head to toe. “He’s just an ordinary boy. Vulnerable. Weak,” he sneered. “You’ll gain nothing by coddling such a creature.”