Chapter 49 Heroine-Style Charm
The Holy Temple was stifling. Julian hated every second of it. The room was thick with the smell of incense that gave him a migraine and filled with the empty, flowery words of the High Priest. The moment Julian stepped out, he snatched his cloak from his guard's hand.
"Finished?" the Holy Order guard asked, voice low.
"Yeah. Let's get out of here before I lose my mind," Julian muttered.
But fate had other plans. No sooner had his boots hit the courtyard than a familiar figure appeared. Lysandra. Her face was radiant, her smile... yeah, the same angel smile she showed everyone.
"Julian?"
Julian stopped. He let out a long breath, shifting his stiff posture into something slightly more relaxed. "Lysandra."
Memories flashed. Back when they were kids, Julian's father, Frederic Vance, a wealthy landowner with money to burn had felt sorry for Lysandra's family who were down on their luck.
His dad gave her father a job managing the Vance farm.
So yeah, they went way back. Too far back, maybe, Julian knew exactly how Lysandra's act worked.
"Long time no see," Lysandra said, stepping closer. "So busy with the Holy Order? I heard you just got back from the border." She sounded needy, all soft and delicate.
"Same old," Julian replied shortly with a smile.
"Let's have some tea. There's a little spot behind the temple. It's quiet there."
Julian never said no to Lysandra. He admired her, especially since she'd had that healing power since seventeen. So, he nodded.
They sat in a small pavilion surrounded by flowers. The tea was poured. It smelled nice, but to Julian, it was just small talk. Lysandra chattered on about this and that prayers, peace, the usual. Julian just listened, watching the leaves fall.
In the original story, or whatever you call it, Julian knew he was supposed to be insanely jealous. He was supposed to stare at her with worship and hatred every time Didier's name came up.
But... today was different.
Julian set down his teacup. The clink of porcelain broke the silence. He stared at Lysandra, who was busy fixing the ribbon on her sleeve.
"Lysandra," Julian called.
She looked up. "Yeah?"
"Aren't you afraid?" Julian asked, straight to the point. His voice was flat, no over-the-top emotion. "Your relationship with Prince Didier... everyone knows, and everyone knows he's engaged to Gisella Mercer."
Lysandra froze. Her smile faltered, but she covered it up fast. "Love is complicated, Julian. Didier chose me, and I..."
Julian was silent. He studied her eyes. Usually, when he asked this, he'd feel that burn in his chest. That blind jealousy he used to get whenever he saw Didier and Lysandra. But now?
Empty.
He just felt sorry for her. Or maybe... bored? The image of that girl with soot-stained cheeks from last night suddenly flashed in his mind. The memory of how she looked at him with such innocence felt way more interesting than this high-society love triangle.
"You're risking your life for that guy," Julian continued, his voice sounding like nothing more than a concerned friend. "Remember that."
Lysandra went quiet, her eyes welling up, waiting for Julian to say more something "jealous." But Julian just gave her that normal, concerned look.
Julian stood up, straightening his cloak. He wasn't jealous. He just didn't care anymore.
And to Lysandra, that normal look from Julian was way more terrifying than any rage.