Without hesitation, she grabs my arm and pulls me toward a nearby alcove where a polished mirror waits.
“This braid is a disaster,” she announces, glancing over her shoulder at Lucas, one brow arching high. “This was your doing.”
Lucas, lounges lazily against the stone wall, placing a hand over his heart with mock offense.
“Why would you assume such a thing?”
“Because it screamsyou,” she replies, sweeping a dramatic hand toward the tangled mess atop my head. “Careless, rushed, and?—”
“Handsome,” Lucas mutters, his smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
I try to stifle a grin, watching them volley insults like it’s a language only they know. Sera throws her hands into the air with exaggerated exasperation.
“You two are unbearable. Someone has to make sure you both look like you belong here.”
But the faint curve of her mouth, no matter how she fights it, gives her away. Lucas steps closer, his voice lowering as he leans in just enough to make the air between them hum.
“Admit it,” he murmurs, eyes glittering. “You missed this. You missedme.”
For the briefest heartbeat, Sera falters. The blush that rises along her neck is almost imperceptible—almost—but she quickly masks it with a scoff and a brisk shake of her head.
“Not even a little.”
“Ah,” Lucas sighs, throwing his head back with a dramatic flourish, hand pressed to his chest. “You wound me, dear maiden.”
Her eyes roll so hard it’s a wonder they don’t stay that way.
“You’re a knight in the Royal guard, Lucas. You’ll survive.”
His gaze lingers, losing a bit of its usual mischief as something softer flickers behind his eyes. Sera tilts her head, lips parting slightly—but he’s already grinning again, the moment gone as quickly as it came.
“And besides,” she says, recovering her composure, “I’m certainly no maiden.”
Lucas’s grin deepens, eyes gleaming like he’s been waiting for that line.
“Oh, I know,” he says smoothly, leaning in until his breath is a whisper against her ear. “I was there. Remember?”
My brows shoot up at his sheer audacity, and I pull my lips in, trying not to laugh.
Sera’s face turns scarlet instantly, her eyes going wide as if she hadn’t expected him to say it aloud—certainly not like that. For half a second, her lips twitch, threatening a smile she doesn’t want to give him. Lucas only cocks his head, smug and unbothered, watching her reaction like it’s his favorite pastime.
She shudders, physically shaking off the memory like it’s something she can toss to the floor and step over—but when her eyes lift and catch mine in the mirror, the blush rushes back to her cheeks in full force. I raise a brow at her, high and slow, as my lips press together, trying not to smirk. But it’s there, hovering just beneath the surface.
Still blushing, she quickly returns to my hair, reworking my braid with the care and focus of an artist.
“There,” Sera says at last, stepping back with a satisfied nod, her fingers falling away from the final braid. “Now you look perfect.”
Lucas tilts his head, arms crossed as he eyes me like a critic evaluating fine art.
“Absolutely perfect,” he agrees, far too pleased with himself.
I glance at him, then at Sera, and feel the heat rise in my cheeks.
“Indeed, perfect,” I say, my voice mock-serious, but the amusement curling beneath it is impossible to hide.
She crosses her arms, lifting a brow as she levels us both with a look that could send a lesser man running.
“If either of you says ‘perfect’ again, I’m walking straight out of this castle.”
