When Beauty Destroys The BL World

Chapter 90~Dispute~

Nickolai and Lucas stood in silence, the weight of unspoken truths pressing between them like a storm about to break.

Lucas's voice was like a blade, sharp and accusing. "You lied to me," he said. "You knew she was alive. You knew who she was all along-yet you deceived me by staging an accident that make me believe she's death."

Nickolai's face was unreadable, but a flicker of recognition betrayed him.

Lucas stepped closer. "You concealed her identity... You let me grieve her death while you-" his voice trembled with rage and sorrow, "-you married her."

"She isn't Irene to begin with," Nickolai snapped, jaw clenched. "She's Dacia. She was my fiancée from the start. Not yours."

"That may have been true once," Lucas fired back, eyes blazing. "But she chose a new life. She ran away from that title-from the nobility. She became Irene. She chose to leave behind the royal family. That's only meant she never wanted to marry you!"

The fury in his chest was unbearable. Lucas grabbed Nickolai by the collar, shoving him back a step. "She was mine," he growled. "And you knew it. I thought you're my friend. And I trusted you. You betrayed me. I mourned her. I died every day thinking I lost her, while you-" his voice broke, "-you took her as your wife but you let her suffer, and did nothing to protect her."

Nickolai remained still, but his fists were trembling.

"You let them hurt her. You let her be framed, accused, beaten-!" Lucas's grip tightened, but his arms began to shake. "You make her life a miserable hell!!"

For a moment, Lucas looked ready to strike. His knuckles were white. He wanted so badly to return all the pain Nickolai had unknowingly inflicted. But then, as if something inside him broke, he let go.

Breathing heavily, Lucas stepped back.

"I don't care if you're her husband. After everything that's happened... I'm going to have her back," he said, voice low but resolute. "And after this-after what she's suffered because of you-don't think she'll ever trust you again."

He turned to leave.

But Nickolai's voice stopped him.

"Then none of us deserve her," he said quietly.

Lucas stood frozen.

Nickolai's gaze was distant, tormented. "Not you. Not me. We've both hurt her. In different ways, yes, but the same damage...Her life was doomed the day she met either of us."

The words struck Lucas like a cold gust. He didn't respond. He didn't argue.

Because, in the deepest part of his heart-he knew it was true.

Without another word, Lucas walked away. This time Nickolai didn't stopped him.

Nickolai standing alone in the empty field, a silence heavier than steel pressing against his chest for the first time in his life.

A silence named regret.

Lucas then returned to the temple, unfazed by the hushed whispers of the young priests who parted silently as he passed.

Walking inside his chamber, that was dimly lit, soft light filtering through the curtains. Michael stood near the bedside, speaking in low tones with the old physician and his female assistant. Irene lay still, her breathing faint and shallow, her body covered in fresh linens, her wounds now dressed. Her face was pale, lips slightly parted, as though even in sleep she still bore the weight of pain.

Lucas's eyes went straight to her-his steps quiet but urgent.

"What is her condition?" he asked, voice tight.