Disclaimer: I don't own Who Made Me a Princess?
Ancient spirits above, this was uncomfortable.
Lucas sat in the drawing room with his chin resting in one hand as he looked at the decadent display of desserts spread out in front of him. He wasn't exactly fond of desserts—and he knew for certain that the man across from him wasn't either—so he didn't know why in the world there was enough sweets to feed a dozen children here now.
A habit of the maids, maybe? Lucas smirked when an image of Athanasia stuffing her face with sweets entered his mind. Yea, it was definitely her fault.
Still, it wasn't all bad.
Lucas was a fan of the aromatic black tea he'd been served. His fingers traced the edge of the empty cup, as he waited for the silence between him and his companion to finally break. When ten minutes passed, and the stillness began to grow deafening, Lucas finally decided to make eye contact. Red eyes met a brilliant blue. There was no naked hate in those eyes, but there was no warmth either. His gaze was, as always, cool and composed. It was far more threatening than the dark sneers and open threats that he was accustomed to. Truthfully, Lucas expected at least a little wariness considering how close he was to the man's daughter, but he supposed that the emperor of a country had to be good at maintaining a stone-cold façade.
Why was he here again?
Oh, right, I was invited, Lucas thought, looking firmly now at the man that had demanded he have tea with him. It was definitely a demand and not a request because Claude didn't ask him a question—he spoke exclusively in sentences that left the one on the receiving end of his brief dialogues no choice in the matter. If Lucas had noticed anything about Claude's manner of speaking over the years, it was this: the emperor didn't speak to people, he spoke at them. He uttered words in their general direction and fully expected them to follow.
It's the first time he's asked me to do something like this, Lucas realized. If he wanted me to attend so badly, then the least he could do is speak. If I'd known it was just going to be a staring contest, then I would've made up some excuse.
Lucas glanced outside a nearby window that spanned the entire length of the wall.
It was early afternoon now. The sun was high in the sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight. Just outside of the room he was currently suffering in was one of the many gardens that the emperor had built for Athanasia when she was younger. From his position, Lucas had the perfect view of a long trail of cypress trees and deep red rose bushes that somehow, against all odds, withstood the summer heat.
… Should I just teleport out of here? Lucas glanced at Claude again. He was looking at him like he knew exactly what he was thinking and that he'd hunt him down for sport if he tried. As if he'd be able to catch me, but knowing he wouldn't probably won't stop him from trying. I'm not that invested in leaving anyway. He's got good taste in tea at least.
If Lucas was wholly honest with himself, a part of him was curious about how Claude felt right now. The emperor had been hailed as a man with power that no other could equal for his entire life. To suddenly find someone that he had no chance against must have been both devastating and infuriating. The sadistic side of him that liked to crush those too arrogant about their powers for their own good wanted Claude to try attacking him just so he could see for himself the futility of it. Lucas was still angry at him for what he did while under the effects of black magic, and the need to beat him for his actions was strong enough to make his hands tremble in fury. His anger was a black, fetid thing. It spread in his veins and corrupted his thoughts like poison. It peeked between the floorboards of his subconscious, urging him to do the unspeakable. The sensible, age-old side that knew that nothing good would come from him letting his anger run rampant, however, eventually won out in the end. Living for so long naturally came with a degree of self-discipline, and Lucas had it in spades. More importantly, he'd hate to see Athanasia angry at him for touching even a single hair on Claude's head.
His daughter complex is on a whole other level though, Lucas thought. If someone weaker than him actually made a pass at the princess, I'd just feel bad for them. I mean, he'd probably just make them disappear in an insta—wait.
Lucas' eyes widened in sudden realization.
Is that why he invited me here? Because he can't just get rid of me?
He didn't know whether to feel smug about the fact that Claude acknowledged his power or cross that his feelings had been seen through so easily. Either way, now that Lucas knew Claude was sizing him up, he leaned back in his seat with casual confidence. He'd acted like a polite child when they first met to get in his good graces, so that he could have permission to stay in the palace, but there was no need for that anymore. He'd show him his true personality; it would be nothing less of an affront if he didn't. Lucas was as volatile as fire; the world broke against him.
"Is there a reason you called for me?" Lucas asked. "This meet-up is about as welcoming as a poison needle directed at my eye. I came here under false pretenses, but my obligations to the tower of magicians in the palace are real."
"Your first duty in this palace has always been to keep my daughter's magic under control," Claude finally spoke. "We both know that you make the other magicians do everything else."
"I'm going to roast those chatty bastards," Lucas muttered in disdain. He had made a reputation out of overworking the weaklings that the palace hired, but he didn't think it would reach Claude's ears. The emperor was famous for not caring about how things ran as long as it was running efficiently.
Did he purposely look into the people I regularly interact with in the palace?
It was likely.
"You're spending more time with my daughter," Claude said.
The cheeky part of him wanted to say that he was actually spending less time with her now, but Lucas knew better than to aggravate him more than he already was. Claude was good at hiding it, but they were frighteningly similar, and Lucas knew that if he pushed anymore, the emperor might actually attack him.
"I'm teaching her how to use her magic." Lucas shrugged. "I don't just take anyone under my wing. I don't care about blood, friendship, or even status. The only things that matters to me are power and raw talent—I hope you know that."
"I do," Claude said neutrally, though Lucas knew he was pleased by his indirect compliments.
Whether he believed it or not though, everything he said was the genuine truth. Lucas had a lot of time to waste, but he absolutely abhorred wasting it on things or people that he deemed useless. He had spent countless years watching fledgling mages grow. Some flourished. Most, however, didn't. The majority were left to either content themselves with a life of mediocrity or to keep on striving until they realized that life could be cruel without reason, and sometimes hard work got them nowhere.
"She works hard," Lucas said, figuring out that part of the reason Claude had invited him was to see for himself just how deep his relationship with his daughter ran.
No, Lucas amended after a moment when Claude abruptly frowned. From the looks of it, he probably wants to know if we're on equal footing.
If Lucas had learned anything throughout his long years on this plane, it was that sometimes it was better to be beside someone and not behind or in front of them. If Claude wanted verbal proof of that, then that would be easy to give. He'd been waiting for a chance to go off about their relationship in front of him anyway.
"Her defiance is interesting," Lucas said. "The way she blushes when she's embarrassed or puffs her cheeks when she's frustrated isn't bad either."
Claude's lips twisted, though he kept his silence.
"Even though she knows how powerful I am, she isn't afraid to scold me at all. She always loses in the end though."
"…"
"I don't really like how she chooses more peaceful options though. It would be better if she relied on me more. I can be violent, but I'm good at getting rid of bugs. She's got a ton crawling around her. There's an especially persistent white-haired one that I want to just make erupt in flames. His face pisses me off."
"…"
"Oh," Lucas purposely paused for effect, "and did I mention the way she lights up whenever I visit her bedroom balcony at night? It's the absolute best."
"… Do you want to test your immortality so badly?"
Lucas laughed. It was startled out of him, coming from deep within his chest. The sound of it was a little rustier than he remembered, but he knew that as long as he stayed by Athanasia's side, he'd have the opportunity to do it again.
"You remind me of an old king from the dead kingdom of Grielus that used to dominate the western continent," Lucas said when he finally mastered himself enough to speak. He knew he caught Claude's attention because of the sudden curious tilt of his head. His lips twisted into a haughty smirk. "Are you that interested? Should I regale you with more stories about the past, Emperor?"
There was an abrupt flare of magical power.
Unlike so many others, Claude's magic didn't spill forth in sharp, precise lines; it pierced the scant space left between each particle in the air, siphoning all traces of life into a thick, heavy mass just waiting for an order to burst and turn the world into an explosion hazardous enough to topple steel pillars.
Lucas wasn't afraid.
Despite how dense Claude made the air in the room feel, he could breathe just as easily as he could before Claude decided to display his magic. Lucas leaned further back into his seat with a lack of concern that he was sure made Claude's insides quiver with rage.
"Relax, I was only teasing," Lucas said, low and casual with power. He dismissed his immense magic with nothing more than a flick of his wrist. "You're worried about the princess—I get it. I don't understand why you are though. If anything, I'm the one you should be concerned about."
The fierce glare Claude directed his way made him chortle.
It was true though.
Because once upon a time, somewhere between waking and a mundane life travelling in search of something to replenish his magic, Athanasia's worth in Lucas' eyes rose until it not only equaled, but meant more than that of his own life—and that worth hadn't plummeted since.
"This rotten hammer pounding away in here," Lucas said, getting to the point at last. He placed his hand over his chest with a look chockfull of mockery and self-derision at the mere thought of having someone he actually considered precious. "I don't know when it happened, but she owns it now. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise."
A/N: Please review.
