random123456

Chapter 385: Would you like to dine?

"Luca?" she blurted out, stopping mid-step.

There he was, leaning casually against the counter, his coat slightly askew as if he'd just arrived. The white cat perched on his shoulder seemed utterly at ease, its luminous fur catching the warm light of the inn's lanterns. Luca turned his head at her voice, his dark eyes gleaming with a faint amusement that seemed to be his default expression.

"Well, if it isn't the frost mage," he said, his tone light as his lips curled into a smirk. "Fancy meeting you here."

Elara crossed her arms, recovering quickly from her surprise. "I could say the same to you. What are you doing here?"

Luca straightened slightly, the faint jingling of the coins in his pouch audible as he shifted. "What does it look like? I'm renting a room. A place like this seemed fitting after the day we had."

His cat yawned, its tail flicking lazily as if to emphasize the point. Elara glanced at the receptionist, who was counting out keys for him, and then back at Luca.

"You've got expensive taste," she remarked, tilting her head. "Didn't think you were the type."

He shrugged, his smirk widening. "When you earn the biggest reward of the expedition, why not indulge a little? Besides," he added, his voice lowering just slightly, "even I need a good rest you know?"

Elara narrowed her gaze, her arms crossing tighter over her chest. "Did you follow me here?"

Luca blinked, and then his smirk widened into a full grin. "Miss Frost Mage… For what reason would I follow you here?"

She raised an eyebrow, her tone skeptical. "Maybe because you're interested in me?"

His grin turned almost wolfish as he leaned casually against the counter, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "Miss Elara, you're really putting quite an importance on yourself. Do you honestly think I'd do such a thing?"

Elara huffed, her posture stiffening. "Hmm?"

"Well," Luca continued smoothly, gesturing with a slight flourish of his hand, "considering you're this beautiful, it's partially understandable that you'd think that way. You must have had quite a lot of offers."

The unexpected compliment caught Elara off guard, but she quickly masked her reaction, though a faint pink dusted her cheeks. "I… have had my fair share," she admitted, her voice even as she nodded slightly. It was true—she was used to drawing attention, even if it was something she'd grown to ignore long ago.

"Of course you have," Luca said, his smirk softening slightly. For a moment, his gaze lingered on her, as if studying her expression, but it shifted quickly to the restaurant area behind her. "Going for a meal?"

"Yes," she replied simply, her tone clipped. She wasn't sure where this was going, and Luca's unpredictable demeanor was always enough to put her slightly on edge.

"Then how about I accompany you?" he asked, his voice light but with a certain persistence. "Your knight doesn't seem to be here, after all."

Elara's brow furrowed. "And why do you think I'd accept that?"

Luca's smirk returned, sharper now. "Why not? It's not every day you get the opportunity to dine with a handsome man like me."

Elara rolled her eyes, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips. "Handsome? You're awfully full of yourself."

"Confidence," Luca corrected, his tone teasing. "You should try it sometime. It's quite liberating."

Elara's lips twitched upward into a faint smirk as she arched an eyebrow at him. "So when you do it, it's confidence, but when I do it, it's, 'you're really putting quite an importance on yourself?'" she retorted, her tone sharp but playful.

Luca froze for a moment before breaking into a hearty laugh, his voice echoing through the inn's reception area. A few of the staff glanced their way, but he didn't seem to notice—or care. "Touché," he said, grinning at her. "What can I say? One's standard is another's hypocrisy."

Elara couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her. "At least you're self-aware."

Luca gave her a mock bow, his grin undiminished. "It's one of my many charms."

She rolled her eyes but found herself smiling despite her best efforts. There was something disarming about him—his confidence, his sharp wit, the way he carried himself with an ease that made the world's chaos seem far away. And, if she was honest with herself, she needed the levity.

Her smile faded slightly as another thought came to her, a more serious one. She straightened her posture and cleared her throat, her tone softening. "Luca, there's something I need to say."

He raised an eyebrow, his amusement giving way to curiosity. "Oh? What's this? Are you about to confess your undying gratitude for being in the presence of my magnificence?"

"Hardly," she shot back, though the corners of her lips twitched again. Her gaze grew more serious as she continued. "I… need to apologize. For what Cedric did earlier."

At the mention of Cedric, Luca's expression shifted, his smirk thinning but not disappearing entirely. "Oh, that. What about it?"

"It was rude," Elara said firmly, her eyes meeting his. "Cedric was out of line. Even if you provoked him after, it was still him who started it, and he had no right to treat you that way."

Luca regarded her for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, he shrugged lightly, the smirk softening into something less sharp. "Rude, maybe. But I'm used to it. People like him tend to see someone like me as a threat. It's nothing new."

"That doesn't make it right," Elara insisted, her grip tightening slightly on her staff. "I'm his charge, and as such, it reflects on me too. So, I'm sorry."

Her sincerity seemed to catch Luca off guard, his expression softening further. For a moment, he said nothing, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. "You don't need to apologize for someone else's pride, you know."

"I know," she replied, her voice just as soft. "But I'm doing it anyway."

Luca chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You're an odd one, Frost Mage."

"Better than being predictable," she quipped, her smile returning.

"Fair point," he conceded, his grin widening again. "So, does this apology come with a free meal, or am I still paying for my own?"

Elara sighed dramatically, her hands on her hips. "Fine. Consider it my treat. But only this once."

"Ooooh….Generous and entertaining…."

Luca's grin widened into something almost wolfish as he leaned against the counter, one hand resting lightly on the edge. "It seems I've hit the jackpot," he said, his tone dripping with playful satisfaction.

Elara let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she started toward the restaurant. "Don't push your luck," she warned lightly, though there was no bite in her words.

Luca fell into step beside her, his coat swaying slightly with his movements. The white cat on his shoulder flicked its tail, its bright eyes scanning the room with a disinterested air. As they entered the dining area, the soft murmur of conversation and the clink of cutlery on plates greeted them. The restaurant was cozy yet refined, its polished wood and warm lighting creating a welcoming atmosphere.

A server approached them with a bright smile, guiding them to a small table by the window. The sea was visible beyond the glass, the moonlight casting silvery ripples over the waves. Luca pulled out a chair with an exaggerated flourish, gesturing for Elara to sit.

"Your throne, Miss Frost Mage," he said with a mock bow.

Elara rolled her eyes but sat down, her lips twitching upward despite herself. "You're…"

"I am…." Luca replied as he settled into the chair opposite her, his grin as irrepressible as ever.

The server returned shortly after, menus in hand. "Welcome," she said warmly. "Is it your first time dining with us?"

Both Elara and Luca nodded.

"In that case," the server continued, her smile growing, "may I suggest our specialties? We have a fresh sea bass dish tonight, prepared with herbs and butter, alongside a seasonal vegetable medley. Or, if you prefer something heartier, our slow-roasted lamb is very popular."

Elara glanced at Luca, who gave a casual shrug. "We'll go with whatever you recommend," she said, deciding it was easier than overthinking it.

"Make it two of your best," Luca added with a faint smirk. "And something sweet for dessert."

The server chuckled softly. "Of course. I'll bring your drinks shortly." With a polite nod, she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

Elara leaned back slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of her staff, which she'd rested against the table. "You seem pretty comfortable for someone who's just wandered into a high-end inn."

Luca raised an eyebrow, resting his chin on one hand. "Comfort's a state of mind," he said simply. "And besides, it's not every day I get invited to dinner by someone so… particular."

"Particular?" Elara echoed her tone somewhere between curious and wary.

"Well, let's just say I'm not used to people apologizing on behalf of their overly dramatic knights," Luca said with a teasing lilt. "It's refreshing."

Elara sighed, though the faint smile on her lips betrayed her amusement. "You really don't let anything go, do you?"

"Not when it's this entertaining," he admitted, his smirk widening again.

The night was still young.

Chapter 386: Would you like to dine ? (2)

Elara rested her chin lightly on her hand, watching Luca as he leaned back in his chair, his relaxed posture somehow managing to command attention even in this quiet setting. She could still hear the soft crash of the waves outside, a soothing backdrop to their conversation.

"You really are particular, Mister Luca," she said, her tone teasing but tinged with curiosity. "Everyone's eyes were on you when you were getting your haul earlier. It was… hard not to notice."

Luca's smirk widened as he tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Luca."

"Hmm?" Elara raised an eyebrow.

"Call me Luca," he repeated, his voice soft yet firm, the playful edge never quite leaving his tone.

Elara hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright, Luca." The name felt oddly familiar on her tongue, as if they'd known each other far longer than they had. "And you…" She paused, her lips twitching faintly. "You may also call me Elara."

Luca's smirk softened into something almost genuine, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table as his gaze met hers. "Elara," he said slowly, as though testing the weight of her name. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady."

Elara's cheeks warmed, though she quickly masked her reaction with a roll of her eyes. "You really are something else, aren't you?" she muttered, shaking her head slightly. "Do you practice flattering people, or does it just come naturally?"

"It's a gift," Luca said with mock seriousness, placing a hand over his chest. "Though I'll admit, it's easier when the subject is worth complimenting."

She couldn't help but laugh softly, her earlier frustrations melting away in the face of his relentless charm. "You must have quite a bit of practice then."

"Practice makes perfect," Luca quipped, his grin returning full force.

"….."

Elara sighed, her smile lingering despite herself. "You know, if you weren't so insufferable, you might actually be likable."

Luca chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm plenty likable. You just haven't realized it yet."

"Hmm," Elara mused, her tone skeptical but playful. "We'll see about that."

The conversation flowed easily, the tension of the day fading as they continued to banter. Despite herself, Elara found that she didn't mind Luca's company. He was infuriating, yes, but there was something undeniably… disarming about him.

And for the first time in a long while, she let herself relax.

*****

As the soup arrived at the table, its golden broth shimmered under the warm light, and the aromatic scent of rare fish and delicate herbs wafted through the air. The dish, a delicacy from the remote seas, was an indulgent start to the meal. Luca raised an eyebrow as the server placed the bowls before them.

"High-end, indeed," he murmured, picking up his spoon with deliberate grace. The cat on his shoulder twitched its nose at the savory aroma, but Luca gently waved it away with a flick of his finger. "No, none for you. Even you don't deserve to outshine this masterpiece."

Elara rolled her eyes, already stirring her soup. "Do you ever not monologue over food?"

"Rarely," Luca replied, his smirk intact as he took a sip. He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the blend of flavors. "Ah, perfection."

They ate in relative silence for a few minutes, the quiet broken only by the soft clink of spoons against the bowls. The warm, rich broth seemed to soothe the tension of the day, if only for a moment.

Then came a voice, low and smooth, reverberating inside Luca's head. [How did you know she was here?]

Lucavion didn't flinch, his spoon pausing briefly before resuming its motion. 'I didn't,' he replied inwardly, his tone conversational, though his mental voice carried an edge of amusement.

'I simply wanted to relax,' he replied with an air of nonchalance. 'Remember, we made quite a bit of money today. I thought I deserved a bit of indulgence.'

[It doesn't feel like it,] Vitaliara quipped, her tone soft but pointed. [Your "relaxation" feels suspiciously like scheming.]

Lucavion shrugged slightly, his expression unreadable. 'If you call existing a scheme, then yes, I'm guilty.'

Across from him, Elara took another spoonful of soup, her posture softening as she savored the delicate balance of flavors. The warmth of the broth seemed to erase the tension she carried, even if only momentarily. Her lips parted slightly as she mumbled, "This is so good…"

Her eyes half-closed in bliss, a small trail of broth lingered at the corner of her lips. She quickly swiped it away, but the unabashed delight in her expression was unmistakable.

Lucavion's gaze lingered on her for a moment, his smirk fading into something softer, almost unguarded. 'She really eats like Master…' The thought surfaced unbidden, and his chest tightened with a bittersweet ache. Whether it was her enthusiasm, her unfiltered appreciation for something so simple, or the fleeting resemblance in her demeanor, the memory of Gerald was suddenly vivid in his mind.

Perhaps it was just a reminiscence… Or perhaps it was something deeper. His Master's presence had been unshakable, and now, in moments like these, Elara's existence seemed to echo it.

But he allowed none of this to show. Neither Vitaliara nor Elara needed to know the thoughts that danced just beneath the surface. Instead, Lucavion smirked to himself and pushed the thought away, tucking it into the recesses of his mind where it would remain untouched.

"You're practically drooling, Frost Mage," Luca teased lightly, slipping seamlessly into his outward persona.

Elara froze, glaring at him as a faint flush colored her cheeks. "I am not!" she shot back, though her tone lacked the bite it usually carried.

"Right," Luca replied, his smirk growing. He leaned back in his chair, spoon spinning idly in his fingers. "You look like someone who's just tasted enlightenment."

Elara scoffed, her expression falling into one of mock disdain, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. "I can't help it if good food makes me happy."

Lucavion inclined his head slightly, his smirk softening as he echoed her sentiment. "Indeed… A good meal is important. It reminds us of simpler pleasures. Balance, even amidst chaos."

Elara brightened at his words, her posture relaxing as she chirped, "Right, right! That's exactly how it should be!" Without hesitation, she resumed her meal with renewed enthusiasm, the warm soup vanishing rapidly under her spoon.

As Lucavion watched her, his usual smirk faded into a thoughtful expression. There she was—the supposed main character of this tangled story, someone whose life was inevitably entwined with his own. Her path, as he knew it, was riddled with thorns, her destiny an unrelenting storm she had yet to weather.

And yet… watching her now, cheeks puffed slightly as she ate with such unguarded eagerness, she seemed almost untouched by the weight of it all. Fierce? He thought of how she'd been described in the novel. Perhaps. But right now, she's nothing short of enthusiastic. Innocent, even.

The contrast was striking. The poised frost mage, the future heir to a crumbling legacy, reduced to someone who found such unfiltered joy in a simple meal. The dissonance struck a chord in him, a flicker of something unspoken curling in his chest.

His gaze drifted, unbidden, into the recesses of his own memory, where ghosts of the past stirred. A memory clawed its way to the forefront: the rigid halls of the Duke's estate, its cold grandeur swallowing all but the echoes of disciplined steps. If you were still in the Duke's house, would you be this expressive?

The question lodged itself in his mind, sharp as a blade. He had seen her before, even in those brief moments when their paths had crossed years ago. Back then, she had been a perfect heir—rigid, disciplined, bound by the weight of expectation. Every action measured, every word deliberate. There had been no space for expressions like this, no room for the genuine, unguarded joy that now flickered across her features.

Is this who you really are, Elara? Or is this just the version of you freed from their shadow? He wondered silently, his chest tightening with something that wasn't quite sadness, but close enough to sting.

He blinked, snapping himself out of the haze of reminiscence. His gaze settled on her again, and she caught his eye briefly, tilting her head curiously. "What?" she asked, pausing mid-bite.

Luca's smirk reappeared instantly, the practiced mask sliding into place. "Nothing. Just wondering if I should order more at this rate. You're devouring that like you haven't eaten in weeks."

Elara scowled, though the faint blush returned to her cheeks. "I'm savoring it," she corrected indignantly. "There's a difference."

"Of course there is," Luca teased lightly, leaning back in his chair. "Please, continue. It's a performance worth every coin."

She rolled her eyes but returned to her meal with a huff. Lucavion's smirk lingered, though his thoughts remained rooted in the past, the edges of his mind tinged with a quiet unease he refused to show.

Chapter 387: Would you like to dine? (3)

Elara stirred her soup absently, her thoughts scattered. She couldn't quite place what she was feeling, but it was unusual—foreign, even. Something about the way Luca's gaze lingered on her, sharp and unflinching, sent a faint heat creeping up her neck.

'Shy?' she thought, the word startling her. It didn't feel right—didn't fit the walls she'd built around herself over the years. She was no stranger to attention, having grown used to being observed and judged since she was a child. But this… this was different.

Her fingers tightened around her spoon, the warmth of the broth doing little to combat the sudden fluttering in her chest.

'Why is he looking at me like that?'

Every time she dared to glance up, his dark eyes were there, meeting hers with a calm intensity that made her pulse quicken. And yet, there was nothing inherently invasive about his gaze—it wasn't leering or prying. It was simply… present. Too present. Like he could see right through her.

She quickly dropped her gaze back to her soup, her spoon clinking softly against the bowl. The feeling wasn't unwelcome, exactly—it was just unfamiliar. Unnerving, even. She hadn't felt like this in years. Not since…

Elara shook her head lightly, banishing the thought before it could take root. 'No. I won't think about that.'

Just then, the waiter approached with the next course, setting down plates with an elaborate flourish. The dish was... unusual. A creature with curled, segmented legs neatly arranged around a central body, the aroma tantalizing but the appearance startlingly alien. Elara blinked at it, tilting her head slightly as she took in the sight.

"What is it?" she asked, her tone cautious.

The waiter smiled warmly, clasping their hands together. "Ah, this is one of Stormhaven's most famous delicacies—the tidecrawler. Caught fresh this morning, steamed to perfection, and served with our signature spiced butter. I guarantee you'll love it."

Elara and Luca exchanged skeptical glances. Luca leaned forward slightly, inspecting the dish with mild apprehension. "It looks like something that crawled out of a gate," he muttered, his tone low enough for only Elara to hear.

Elara snorted softly, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "It does, doesn't it?"

The waiter, oblivious to their private exchange, beamed at them. "Enjoy! Let me know if there's anything else you need."

As the waiter left, Elara picked up her fork, eyeing the tidecrawler with suspicion. "Well, here goes nothing," she muttered, cutting off a piece of the creature's soft, glistening flesh and dipping it into the butter.

Luca followed suit, though his movements were slower, more deliberate. They both hesitated for a moment before taking their first bites. The flavor was unexpectedly rich and delicate, a perfect balance of brine and spice that melted on the tongue.

"Okay," Elara admitted after swallowing. "That's... surprisingly good."

"Agreed," Luca said, nodding slightly. "Though I'm still not convinced it's not from another plane."

Elara chuckled, but the sound faded as she glanced at him again. He was eating with his usual ease, his gaze occasionally flicking to her with that same unrelenting intensity. She felt it again—that strange, unsettling familiarity that made her chest tighten.

'Why does he look at me like that?' she wondered. And more importantly, 'Why does he feel so familiar?'

She had dismissed the notion before, chalking it up to her imagination. But now, sitting across from him under the warm glow of the inn's lanterns, the feeling resurfaced, stronger than ever. It wasn't just the way he looked at her—it was something deeper, a resonance she couldn't explain.

Her thoughts spiraled, searching through fragments of memories, trying to piece together why this man—a stranger in most senses—felt as though he'd been part of her life before.

"Is the meal that interesting?" Luca's voice broke through her reverie, pulling her back to the present. His smirk was back, teasing and sharp. "You're really looking at it through and through."

Elara blinked, realizing she'd been staring, though not at the food. Her cheeks flushed faintly, and she quickly looked down at her plate. "I'm just... savoring it," she said, her tone slightly defensive.

"Savoring, huh?" Luca echoed, his smirk widening. "Sure doesn't look like it."

"I am," Elara insisted, though her thoughts were still tangled with the odd familiarity of him. She stabbed another piece of tidecrawler with her fork, but then she realized.

'Why not ask him?'

Elara's fork paused midway to her lips, the question nagging at the edges of her thoughts. Why not ask him? It wasn't as though she needed to feel shy around someone like Luca—especially not him, of all people.

Why should I? she thought, the logic snapping into place.

She set her fork down gently and raised her head, meeting his dark gaze directly. "Luca," she began, her voice steady but laced with curiosity. "Have we ever met before?"

Luca blinked, his spoon hovering above his plate. For a fraction of a second, something flickered in his expression—too fleeting to catch properly—before his smirk returned. "Hmm?" he asked, tilting his head as though her question amused him. "Why do you think so?"

Elara straightened in her seat, her hands resting lightly on the table. "It's just…" She hesitated briefly, searching for the right words, but pressed on. "You feel familiar. Like I've known you before, but I can't quite place it."

Luca leaned back in his chair, his smirk never faltering. "Familiar, you say?" His tone was light, almost dismissive, but his eyes gleamed with an enigmatic glint. "Well, I am rather unforgettable. Perhaps you've read about me in one of those Frost Mage chronicles."

Elara rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. "I'm serious," she said, her tone softening. "It's not just your face or your mannerisms. It's… something else. Like a memory I can't quite grasp."

He studied her quietly for a moment, his usual playful demeanor softening into something more reflective. But then he shrugged, his movements casual, as if brushing off her words. "If we had met, I'm sure I'd remember you," he said, his tone smooth and easy. "You're not exactly forgettable yourself, Elara."

His answer was clear—clear and maddeningly evasive. Elara narrowed her eyes slightly, her instincts pricking at the edges of her mind. "You're deflecting," she accused, leaning forward a fraction. "Why?"

"Deflecting?" Luca repeated, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. "You wound me, Frost Mage. I'm merely answering your question."

Elara frowned, frustration flickering behind her eyes. "Then why do I feel like you're hiding something?"

"Because you're suspicious by nature," Luca replied smoothly, his smirk widening again. "But I assure you, if I had the pleasure of knowing you before, I wouldn't forget. Maybe you just have a knack for drawing people in."

"Hmm?" Elara leaned forward slightly, her gaze locking onto Luca's dark eyes. "Suspicious," she murmured, her tone edged with quiet insistence. Her instincts buzzed faintly, whispering that there was more to him than his casual words suggested.

Lucavion, however, leaned back in his chair, the glint of amusement in his eyes deepening as a soft laugh escaped him. "Let's entertain the idea for a moment," he said, his voice smooth yet layered with an almost playful undertone. "Let's say we have met before. Then wouldn't it be fate that we've crossed paths again, here of all places? Out of all the inns, all the cities in the world…"

He trailed off deliberately, his smirk fading into something softer, almost genuine. His gaze held hers steadily as he added, "Doesn't that mean it's fate that brought us together here?"

There was no teasing edge in his tone this time, only quiet curiosity. "Would you not say so?"

Elara blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the shift in his demeanor. His smile wasn't the usual smirk—it was warm, and sincere in a way that seemed to strip away the layers of mystery surrounding him, even if just for a fleeting moment. Before she could respond, he lifted his glass of wine with practiced elegance, taking a slow sip as his eyes never left hers.

The silence stretched between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it felt heavier, filled with unspoken thoughts neither seemed ready to voice. Elara tore her gaze away first, lowering her eyes to her plate as her thoughts churned.

What is with this guy? she wondered, exhaling softly. He wasn't particularly handsome in the traditional sense—his features were sharp, his smirks infuriatingly smug—but there was something about him. Something intangible, like a pull she couldn't quite resist. It wasn't charm, exactly, or even charisma. It was deeper than that, a gravity that drew people in like a vortex.

"Maybe….."

"Indeed…."

Whatever it was….

The time they were spending was not a waste….Elara was sure of that at least….