Chapter 115 A Walk of Rememberance

Lucien sat at the head of the dining table, watching Elian by the side of the table, eating so calmly and without worry.

As if his presence meant nothing to him.

The door opened and in walked Rowan. "Good morning, cousin!" Rowan greeted loudly, his steps loud as he walked toward Elian.

"Hi, Elian, how did you do?" Rowan asked, leaning beside Elian.

Elian glanced up, eyes calm. "Good morning, sir." He greeted and resumed eating.

Rowan smirked, looking up at Lucien who was giving him a disapproving look. But he no longer cared what his cousin thought; he would make Lucien see how useless it was to bring Elian back here until he chose to give up on the boy.

"You really do not remember me?" Rowan asked, pulling a chair out beside Elian.

Elian paused. "I do." He replied.

A pause.

Rowan exchanged a stunned look with Lucien.

"You remember Rowan?" Lucien asked slowly.

Elian nodded. "Yes, I do." He said. "I remember him and the other man who was with you the first time we met in that garden." He smiled.

Lucien’s face fell, his entire body feeling like he’d been dumped upon a bucket of freezing water.

"Oh..." Lucien murmured, dropping his fork. "Of course... that is your first memory of me."

Rowan sighed. "Well, allow me to officially introduce myself. I am Rowan, and I would love to be your friend, if you’re open to friendship, of course..." he smiled.

Elian smiled softly, missing his friend so much but he couldn’t just say he remembered Rowan.

"That would be nice, Mr. Rowan–"

"Rowan," Rowan corrected.

Elian nodded. "Very well... Rowan."

Lucien watched their exchange and clenched his hand on the table. Rowan was doing it again, trying to get closer to Elian before he did.

Throughout the breakfast, he felt very uncomfortable by the way Elian was smiling at everything Rowan said; it made him wonder what exactly was the difference between Rowan’s approach and his approach.

"Thank you, Your Grace, for a hearty breakfast." Elian said, gently placing his fork down.

Lucien slowly stood, walking over to Elian. "Do you want to take a walk with me?" He asked softly.

Elian stood as well, putting some distance between them. "May I be allowed to return to my room, Your Grace?" He bowed.

Lucien gritted his teeth, glancing at Rowan, who was simply smiling, enjoying his torture.

"Please... I simply need company." Lucien said.

Elian sighed. "Very well, Your Grace..." he nodded reluctantly.

"Ask for the infirmary when you return from your walk... I will be there," Rowan stated, standing from his chair.

"Have a nice walk, cousin." He patted Lucien’s shoulder and headed for the door.

"Oh, Chester. When did you arrive?" Rowan asked, stepping aside for Chester at the door.

"Just now," Chester replied, walking into the dining hall.

Rowan simply shrugged and left.

"Good morning," Chester greeted.

"Good morning," Elian replied, slowly moving away from Lucien.

"Wait," Lucien caught his wrist. "I’ll be quick."

Elian gently removed his hand from Lucien’s and stood quietly. He was a weak soldier whenever those gloved hands touched him. To maintain his act, he had to limit contact as much as he could.

"What has brought you here, Chester?" Lucien questioned.

Chester sighed. "He is fine now, but last night, he had an episode and asked for you. He wanted to know if you have kept your promise."

Lucien stilled, spacing out for a while before he slowly shook his head. "What about this morning? Any remembrance?" He asked.

Chester shook his head. "Nothing."

Lucien nodded. "Let us hope he keeps remembering me. I would like to see the look in his eyes when I finally tell him I fulfilled my promise." He murmured.

"Do you want to visit him again?" Chester questioned.

"No need. I only need to focus on fulfilling my promise. Only then can I visit him." He replied.

"Elian," Lucien called gently.

Elian had been listening all through, his mind racing with multiple thoughts as he tried to figure out what was happening with Lucien’s father. It was clear the man had lost his memories, but what was this secret promise Lucien had sworn to fulfil?

Was all this tied to what happened to Lucien in the past?

"Elian?" Lucien called again, already reaching for Elian.

Elian suddenly blinked and cleared his throat. "Yes, Your Grace." He answered.

"Are you okay?" Lucien questioned.

Elian nodded.

"Shall we leave?" Lucien asked again.

Elian nodded. "Yes."

"Please, make yourself at home, Chester." Lucien said and walked toward the door, Elian following behind him.

They walked down the stairs and toward the grand hall exit.

"This way," Lucien turned toward the Orchards, carefully reading Elian’s expression to see if anything would flash in his eyes.

Nothing.

They had just walked down the walkway when someone called Elian from behind.

"Elian," his mother’s shaky voice called.

Elian froze completely.

This was the part he hadn’t thought through!

Lucien had already paused and turned in front of him, waiting and watching to see how he responds to his mother.

With a resigned determination, he turned toward his mother.

"Good day, Ma’am," he greeted politely, his eyes taking her in.

She looked so much better, dressed in a grey and white kitchen maid’s uniform. Her hair no longer looked thinned out; it was full and curly, just like his.

"Ma’am?" She asked, climbing down the stairs to reach him. "Elian... I was so worried. What happened? Where did you go? You never said a word to me." She cupped his cheeks, scanning his face worriedly.

"I’m fine... I... I have been brought back by the Duke." He replied, begging her with his eyes to let him go for now.

"I don’t understand..." Mrs. Morel said, stepping backwards.

"I–"

"He is still recovering, Ma’am," Lucien came forward, placing a gentle hand on Elian’s shoulder.

"Recovering? He’s looking at me like a stranger. What have you done to my son?" She asked, glaring at Lucien.

Lucien stepped forward to block Elian. "I gave my word to bring him back... I did. I’m giving you my word that I will make him remember you once again... I swear it." He said, holding her gaze.

Mrs. Morel glanced at Elian behind Lucien, her brows furrowed in worry as she saw Elian look away from her.

"You will fix my son, Duke. Or I shall really be forced to tell Her Majesty what you have done with him. You know she will spare him." She threatened and stormed off, gathering her skirt in her hands as she ran off.

Lucien sighed quietly, slowly turning to face Elian.

Their eyes stayed locked for a moment before Elian looked away.

This Lucien was different.

This was exactly the Lucien he was begging for before he left... the Lucien from the cabin.

He seemed to have placed Elian’s mother amongst the royal maids; she looked so much better.

But it was too late now. All this kindness and emotions were meaningless, for Elian had witnessed the real man behind that kind face. He knew Lucien was ruthless and driven by some revenge, and the only thing that mattered to Lucien in the end was that revenge.

If he ever dared to give his heart back to the Duke, he was sure he might lose his life for real this time, and he wasn’t willing to take that chance.

"That was your mother," Lucien said softly.

"I figured that out..." Elian murmured, feeling so guilty for lying to his mother’s face.

"Come on," Lucien gently turned Elian by the shoulder and led him toward the small white gate.

"This is my orchard... do you have any memories of this place?" He asked as they stepped into the magical orchard.

Elian shook his head. "No... but it’s beautiful." He murmured, looking right at the tree where his mother had caught him and Lucien that night.

"You’re beautiful," Lucien whispered behind him, his arms slowly circling Elian’s waist.

Elian stiffened at the touch, but he did not pull away immediately. The warmth of Lucien’s chest against his back and the familiar scent of clove wrapped around him like a dangerous comfort. For a brief moment, the orchard, the trees, and the soft morning light faded, leaving only the memory of another night under these same branches — a night filled with heat, whispered confessions, and the first cracks in both their walls.

He forced the memory down.

"Your Grace..." Elian began carefully, placing his hands lightly over Lucien’s gloved ones where they rested on his stomach. "This is... inappropriate."

Lucien’s breath brushed against the side of his neck. "Is it?" he murmured. "Your body doesn’t seem to think so." His thumbs moved in slow, gentle circles against Elian’s waist, almost reverent. "You’re trembling."

Elian closed his eyes for a second, fighting the traitorous heat rising under his skin. "I am simply unused to being held like this," he replied, keeping his voice soft and polite. "Please... release me."

Lucien did not let go at once. Instead, he rested his forehead lightly against the back of Elian’s head, inhaling the scent of his hair as if trying to memorise it all over again.

"I used to hold you here," Lucien said quietly. "Under this tree. You told me you hated me... and then you kissed me like you couldn’t stop."

Elian’s heart clenched painfully. He turned slowly within the circle of Lucien’s arms until they were face to face. The long curls of his hair brushed against Lucien’s chest as he looked up with carefully composed confusion.

"I do not remember any of that, Your Grace," he said. "Perhaps you are confusing me with someone else."

Lucien’s green eyes searched his face with open desperation. One gloved hand rose to cup Elian’s cheek, the leather cool against his skin.

"There is no one else," Lucien whispered. "There never was."

For a moment, the air between them grew heavy. Elian could feel the pull — the same magnetic force that had always existed between them. His gaze dropped briefly to Lucien’s mouth before he forced himself to step back, breaking the embrace.

"I think we should return," Elian said gently. "You have duties, and I... I would like some time alone."

Lucien’s hand lingered in the air for a second after Elian moved away, as if reluctant to lose the contact. Then he lowered it, jaw tight, and gave a slow nod.

"As you wish."

They walked back toward the manor in silence. The orchard, once a place of stolen moments, now felt like another battlefield — one where Lucien was fighting for memories Elian refused to give him, and Elian was fighting to keep the walls around his heart from crumbling completely.

Just before they reached the white gate, Lucien spoke again, his voice low and steady.

"I will not force you to remember, Elian. But I will not stop trying either."

Elian did not look at him. He simply continued walking, the soft morning breeze carrying the unspoken tension between them back toward the manor walls.

The game continued, quieter now, but far more dangerous than before.