The waiter led Lucian up a winding staircase to the second floor of the establishment—a space even more lavish than the rest. Velvet drapes lined the windows, and the soft glow of chandelier light bounced off polished marble floors. Each table felt like a private stage, secluded and intimate.
Lucian took it all in with a satisfied smirk.
"Seems like I got my money's worth after all."
The waiter stopped near an elegantly set table tucked into a semi-private alcove. The arrangement felt less like a restaurant and more like one of those exclusive hostess lounges—intimate, opulent, and designed to make even barons feel underdressed.
Lucian held his head high and sank into the plush velvet couch, the cushions practically swallowing him whole.
"Man… it's been ages since I lived like this," he muttered, letting himself melt into the comfort. "Nice to remember what luxury feels like."
A polite cough broke the moment.
"Your order, sir?" the waiter asked.
Lucian straightened up, his body groaning in quiet protest. He cleared his throat with as much dignity as he could muster.
"Ah—yes. Of course."
His eyes fell on the menu lying on the center of the table—gilded edges, calligraphy so delicate it could have been inked with fairy dust. He picked it up and skimmed through the unfamiliar names.
"Man, I've never even heard of these dishes…"
A ripple of laughter broke the air. From the neighboring tables, well-dressed nobles and wealthy merchants shot glances his way, their voices dripping with disdain.
"Did you hear that, dear? Some upstart clearly stumbled into daddy's coin purse."
"Imagine not knowing the basics. How utterly uncultured."
Lucian's brow twitched. His grin did too, a little tighter now.
"Ah… spoiled pigs," he murmured under his breath, voice still laced with a grin. But this one carried just a hint of edge—like a knife hidden behind a smile.
Lucian tossed the menu back onto the table with a flick of his wrist.
"You know what… I'll have it all," he said flatly, his eyebrow still twitching from the earlier insult.
The waiter nodded stiffly, clearly trying to suppress a smile, and excused himself. With a final polite bow, he left Lucian to his own devices, clearly eager to return to his duties.
Just then, as if summoned by the chaos, a familiar presence entered the room—Reid Perval, charming as ever, and beside him, a well-dressed noblewoman with sharp eyes and a colder demeanor.
"Lucian?" Reid greeted with a smile, voice smooth and charismatic, even without invoking his Codex. "The same as before?"
Lucian leaned back in his seat, a smirk playing on his lips.
"You mean the same man who emptied your pockets at the gambling table? That Lucian?" he said with a low chuckle.
Reid let out a nervous laugh, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple. "Haa… yes, I suppose I did walk right into that one."
His gaze shifted to the table Lucian had claimed.
"Looks like you're putting those winnings to good use. You've stumbled into the pride and joy of my city, you know," he added, puffing out his chest and placing a hand over it with theatrical pride. "The Golden Cutlery—our crown jewel."
Lucian raised a brow, amused. "So this is your butter and pride, huh?"
Before Reid could reply, the noblewoman beside him leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper—meant only for her father's ears.
"Father… who is this? And why are you entertaining him? I thought you despised the nobles in this city."
But Lucian was no ordinary "other."
He gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his mouth as if physically wounded. "Oh, the scandal!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with mock betrayal.
"Lady, you wound me. And here I thought I was starting to feel welcome."
Reid quickly shushed the noblewoman beside him—his daughter, now clearly revealed.
"Shush, honey… you don't want the others to hear," he murmured, still smiling brightly. "And Lucian here isn't just a normal noble."
He gestured toward Lucian with a flourish, eyes gleaming with that ever-present mix of showmanship and mischief.
"Well…" Reid's smile twitched slightly. "At least, I hope he isn't."
His daughter opened her mouth to object again, but Reid cut her off with a well-timed throat clear.
"Ahem! Anyway—Lucian, mind if we join you? Sitting at such an extravagant table all alone… it feels criminal, doesn't it?"
He glanced meaningfully at the curious stares from surrounding patrons.
"And you're starting to attract quite the audience."
Lucian raised an eyebrow, his smile sharpening at the edges.
Perfect. I didn't even have to make the first move.
The thought slinked through his mind like a cat finding warm sunlight.
"By all means," Lucian said, standing with exaggerated flair, "dine with me, oh great Lord of Greywood!"
He swept one hand toward the table as if presenting a royal banquet, theatric enough to make a few nearby heads turn.
Reid raised his arms in mock exasperation.
"There's no need for all that," he said, one brow twitching. "No need for such… courtesy between acquaintances."
He let out a nervous chuckle, trying to keep things light.
Meanwhile, his daughter remained quiet, clearly unimpressed. Her cold gaze flicked between Lucian and her father—this so-called "great duke" being toyed with by a stranger she'd neither heard of nor recognized. Her posture stiffened, lips pressed into a fine line.
Lucian caught her reaction, of course, and his smile only widened.
Reid and his daughter sat opposite him at the table. Reid visibly relaxed, his earlier tension melting into the plush comfort of the couch.
"Ahh… that's better," he remarked with a satisfied sigh.
Lucian cleared his throat, eyes narrowing playfully as he shifted his gaze to the daughter.
"Ahem… care to introduce me?" he asked, his voice casual, but his sidelong glance at her daughter dripping with curiosity.
Reid chuckled softly, clearly a little thrown off but eager to smooth things over.
"Oh, right. I almost forgot." He gestured toward the young woman beside him. "This is my daughter, Reina Perval."
Reina gave a stiff, awkward wave, her smile polite but lacking warmth.
"Pleased to meet... you," she said, the last word carrying an unmistakable edge.
Lucian's grin deepened as he caught her tone.
"I heard the news," he said, eyes glinting with mischief. "You're being formally introduced to noble society tonight, am I right?"
Reid let out a small chuckle, his voice dropping to a more confidential tone.
"Ah, so you've heard about that."
Before Lucian could respond, Reina interjected, her words cold and clipped.
"Hard not to," she remarked dryly.
Reid's face twitched, his confident facade cracking just a bit. He recovered quickly, though, clearing his throat.
"Yes… Well, I'm holding a ball at my manor tonight. All the nobles in the kingdom are invited."
Lucian's smile turned sly as he leaned back in his seat, deciding to milk the situation for all it was worth.
"Oh, really?" he said, feigning surprise. "I'm afraid I haven't received an invitation, and here I thought we were such good friends."
He let the words hang in the air, his eyes dancing with amusement.
Reid raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye.
"Really? I thought I'd already sent invitations to all the nobles."
Lucian's smile faltered for a split second, his mind scrambling. Damn, he had completely forgotten about that detail. His facade was on the verge of cracking, and he needed to think fast.
"Really?" Lucian said, his grin twitching slightly. "Ha... it must have just gotten lost in the mail."
Reid burst into laughter, clearly delighted to see the seemingly unflappable noble in front of him show a rare slip.
"Well, I can't have that," Reid said with a grin, reaching into his coat. "Here, I've got a few extras, just in case." He handed Lucian an ornate invitation. "If you're planning to come later, just show this to the guard at the gate."
Lucian accepted the invitation with a flourish, tucking it into his suit pocket.
"Ah, truly a Duke of Greywood," Lucian said theatrically, "always prepared in times of need!"
Reid chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter.
Lucian, however, let his smile grow wider as he thought to himself. Okay… that was close, but at least now I've got an invitation. No need to sneak in anymore.
His thoughts shifted back to the unfolding day, his plan falling into place perfectly.