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Chapter 405: Scars of the past

Aeliana leaned back against the jagged cavern wall, her stomach finally full. The warmth of the fire and the food settled her frazzled nerves, but as she swallowed her last bite, a sharp cough escaped her throat.

She coughed again, the sudden dryness in her throat making her wince. Before she could recover, a bottle of water appeared in front of her, held out by Luca's steady hand.

Her amber eyes darted to his face, then back to the bottle.

"This…" she said slowly, her voice rough, "do you have another one?"

Luca's brow arched, the corner of his mouth curling into an amused smirk. "What if I don't?" he asked, his tone laced with teasing.

Her scowl deepened, her fists clenching as her pride flared. "How can you expect me to drink from that? I can't put my lips where someone else's have been!"

His smirk widened into a full grin, his dark eyes gleaming with playful mischief. "Ah, I see. Personal boundaries, is it?"

Aeliana flushed, the heat of both embarrassment and irritation creeping up her neck. "It's good for you too!" she snapped, her voice trembling with indignation.

"For me?" Luca asked, tilting his head slightly as though genuinely intrigued. "Why's that?"

Her face burned hotter, and she stammered, struggling to piece together a coherent response. "Th-that…"

"Because you're sick?" he offered, his tone softening, though the teasing edge lingered.

Aeliana froze, her breath hitching as the words struck her. Her amber eyes widened, and her hands gripped her knees tightly.

"If you know, why are you asking?" she hissed, her voice sharp but trembling.

"Just wanted to confirm," Luca replied, his gaze steady and disarmingly calm. His voice dropped slightly, his tone losing its playful edge. "Is that why you're hiding those marks? Are they because of your illness… or are they because you're cursed?"

The word marks landed like a blow, her entire body stiffening in response.

Her mind raced, a flood of memories surging forward unbidden—the wiry man's sneer, the way his mocking gaze lingered on her exposed skin, the disgust that flickered in every face she had ever seen when they looked at her.

'No…'

Her breath quickened, panic clawing at her chest. Images overlapped in her mind: the horrified stares, the whispered remarks, the way people recoiled from her as though she were some grotesque thing.

'Disgusting.'

'She's not even human anymore.'

'Cursed.'

Her vision blurred, the cavern fading as the weight of their gazes suffocated her. The world began to spin, the edges of her vision darkening as the memories clawed their way to the surface. The mocking laughter, the judgmental gazes, and the whispered words of revulsion echoed in her mind, growing louder with each passing moment.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, her chest tightening painfully.

'Why now? Why does it always come back to this?'

Her hands gripped her knees tightly, her nails biting into her skin as she tried to steady herself. But the weight of her self-loathing was too much, dragging her down like an anchor.

'They were right,' she thought bitterly, her head bowing as her body trembled. 'I'm disgusting. A freak. I don't belong anywhere.'

The cavern seemed to blur and warp around her, the warmth of the fire fading as the cold, suffocating weight of her memories took over.

"—y!"

A distant sound cut through the haze, but it was muffled, distorted.

"-EY!"

Her eyes snapped open, the harsh sound jolting her back to the present. Blinking rapidly, she realized Luca was crouched in front of her, his dark eyes locked onto hers.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice sharper now, all traces of teasing gone.

His gaze was steady, piercing through her turmoil with an intensity that made her heart lurch. He didn't move, didn't touch her, but his presence was grounding, anchoring her to reality.

For a moment, she froze, staring at him as though trying to piece together how he had gotten so close without her noticing.

But then the weight of his question registered, and the panic surged again.

'He knows,' she thought, her mind racing. 'He saw. He must've seen… he must think—'

Before he could speak again, she pushed him. Her hands shot out, shoving him back with all the force her trembling arms could muster.

"Don't!" she shouted, her voice cracking as she scrambled to her feet, backing away from him. Her chest heaved as she glared at him, her amber eyes blazing with a mix of fear and anger. "Don't come near me!"

Luca stumbled slightly but didn't retaliate. Instead, he stood slowly, brushing off his coat as he studied her with an unreadable expression.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," he said calmly, his voice measured and steady.

"You're lying!" Aeliana snapped, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. Her body trembled with the effort of holding herself together, the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "You're just like the rest of them. You think I'm disgusting, don't you?"

His brow furrowed slightly, his dark eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"

"You saw them, didn't you?!" she yelled, her voice rising. "The marks. You think I'm cursed. You think I'm some kind of monster!"

Luca's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—confusion? Concern?

Luca stood still for a moment, his dark eyes locked onto hers, unreadable but steady. Then, a faint smile tugged at his lips, though it wasn't the teasing smirk she was used to. This one was softer, more thoughtful.

"Monster…" he said, his voice low but clear. "That's not a word one should speak of lightly."

Aeliana's breath hitched, her body tensing as his words cut through the air.

He took a step toward her.

"No," she whispered sharply, stepping back instinctively, her movements unsteady.

Luca tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering as he studied her. "I don't think you're a monster," he said calmly, the sincerity in his tone unsettling.

Her heart pounded, her legs trembling as she tried to hold her ground. But as he took another deliberate step forward, the pressure became too much. Her knees buckled, and she fell onto her hips, her hands flying back to brace herself against the cold, jagged ground.

"You're lying," she shouted, her voice cracking as she scrambled to slide back, her amber eyes wide with panic. "You're just saying that!"

"I'm not," Luca replied, his voice quiet but firm.

He took another step, his presence towering over her.

"Stay back!" Aeliana screamed, her voice raw with desperation as she pressed herself against the cavern wall, her movements frantic. "You are just lying like everyone else!"

But Luca didn't stop. He crouched down slowly, his movements measured, and leaned just close enough that his shadow fell over her trembling form.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to back away further, but the wall behind her offered no escape. Her insides twisted in turmoil, the echoes of past judgment and self-loathing colliding with the calm certainty in Luca's gaze.

"I'm not lying," he said softly, his voice gentle yet unyielding. "And I'm not like them."

Aeliana's trembling form pressed tighter against the jagged wall as Luca's calm words cut through the silence. But his assurances, his steady gaze, only stirred a deeper storm within her.

"No," she spat, her voice hoarse but defiant. "You're lying. You're just like the rest of them."

Luca tilted his head slightly, his expression calm, patient. "The rest of who?" he asked softly.

Aeliana's chest heaved as she glared at him, her amber eyes blazing with anger and despair. "The people who said the same thing," she snapped, her voice trembling with raw emotion. "All of them—at the start—they all said the same thing."

Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, nails digging into her palms as the memories clawed their way to the surface.

"'Lady Aeliana,'" she hissed bitterly, her voice mocking as she mimicked the sickly sweet tone that haunted her. "'We don't think you're a monster.'"

She laughed, but the sound was hollow, sharp, and pained. 'Do you know how many times I've heard that? How many people came to me with smiles and words of reassurance? Dozens. Hundreds. And do you know how many stayed?'

Her gaze locked onto his, fierce and unyielding despite the tears threatening to spill over. 'None.'

'They only came to me because of my title. The heiress of the great Dukedom, Aeliana Thaddeus. They all wanted something—power, status, wealth. But when they saw the truth…'

Aeliana's breath was shaky, her mind spiraling as she thought of all the faces, all the voices that once surrounded her. Each one started with hope, false assurances, and soft-spoken lies.

'We don't think you're a monster.'

But when the veil came off, when the truth was laid bare, their reactions always changed. No matter how sweet their words, disgust would creep into their eyes, followed swiftly by excuses, silence, and, eventually, abandonment.

Her fists clenched tighter, her nails digging into her palms. She raised her head slowly, her amber eyes locking onto Luca's with fierce determination.

'That's why you're no different,' she thought, her jaw tightening.

But Luca, unflinching under her glare, took a deliberate step forward.

"Why should I be the same as other people?" he asked, his voice light yet steady. "I'm a pretty unique guy, you know?"

Chapter 406: Scars of the past (2)

"Why should I be the same as other people? I'm a pretty unique guy, you know?"

Her eyes widened slightly, the sheer audacity of his tone catching her off guard. But the moment passed as quickly as it came, and she gritted her teeth, realizing that he wasn't going to stop.

'He's going to keep coming forward,' she thought, her pulse quickening.

She hated what she was about to do. She hated the vulnerability it demanded, the raw exposure. But if it was the only way to stop him, to prove her point, then so be it.

Her trembling hands moved to the edge of her veil, her breath hitching as she hesitated. She could feel the marks beneath her fingertips, the cracks and discolored patches that marred her skin.

'If this doesn't drive him away,' she thought bitterly, her chest tightening, 'nothing will.'

With a sharp tug, she pulled the veil away, revealing her face fully.

The flickering firelight illuminated the marks that ran along her cheeks and jaw—blackened lines that spidered across her pale skin, interwoven with patches of cracked, rough texture. Her once smooth complexion was marred by the unmistakable evidence of her illness, a sight that had driven away so many before him.

"Prove it now!" she shouted, her voice raw and trembling. Her amber eyes burned with anger, fear, and a desperate challenge as she looked directly into Luca's.

She searched his face, waiting for the inevitable. The flicker of revulsion, the subtle shift in his expression that would confirm what she already knew—that he was just like the rest.

But it didn't come.

Instead, Luca's gaze remained steady, his expression unchanged. If anything, his dark eyes softened slightly, as though her unveiling had only confirmed something he already suspected.

"See…" he said calmly, his lips curling into a faint smile. "It wasn't that hard to show your face, was it?"

Aeliana froze, her breath catching as her mind struggled to process his words.

Luca crouched slightly, bringing himself to her eye level as his smile widened, a playful glint returning to his expression. "And look," he said, pointing to his own face. "I've got a scar like yours."

Her gaze followed his gesture, landing on the old scar that ran across his right eye, a pale, jagged line that seemed to cut through his otherwise sharp features.

"But," he continued, tilting his head slightly, "I'm still handsome, aren't I?"

Aeliana's eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly in disbelief. Of all the responses she had expected, this wasn't one of them.

"You…" she whispered, her voice barely audible as her mind raced to make sense of what she was seeing. "You're not serious…"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Luca said, his tone light but genuine. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as he regarded her with the same infuriating confidence he always seemed to exude.

Luca's gaze didn't waver, his expression unchanging as he continued to look at her, calm and steady. There wasn't the slightest trace of pity or discomfort in his eyes—only a quiet confidence that seemed to envelop the space between them.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "Only those who are scared of the abnormal can't stand differences," he said, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. "But how can I call myself brave and strong if I'm afraid of something just because it's different?"

Aeliana stared at him, her chest tightening as his words settled over her like a challenge to everything she'd come to believe.

"I," Luca continued, his tone unwavering, "Lucavion, am scared of nothing."

His declaration was bold, almost arrogant, yet there was no mockery in his voice—only certainty. He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes glinting with a mix of intensity and curiosity.

"I don't like monotony," he said, his words measured but with a quiet fire behind them. "I don't like looking at the same place, the same faces, over and over again. I embrace the unknown. It's what makes life worth living."

Aeliana's fingers twitched, still clutching the veil she'd pulled away, her mind spinning as she struggled to reconcile his words with the reality she had always known.

"And you," Luca said, his voice softening slightly as his gaze swept over her face, "and your scars… they're nothing but a difference in terms of some arbitrary beauty standard. They don't define you."

He straightened slightly, crossing his arms again, the faint smile returning to his lips. "And I embrace that difference."

Her breath hitched, her amber eyes wide as she stared at him, trying to find some crack in his words, some hint of dishonesty. But there was none. His expression, his tone, everything about him radiated a certainty that left her both shaken and speechless.

"You…" she began, her voice trembling, "you really mean that?" The question felt foreign on her tongue, as though she didn't quite believe she was asking it.

"Of course I do," Luca replied without hesitation. "Why wouldn't I?"

Aeliana's grip on her veil loosened, her hands falling limply to her sides as she continued to search his face for the reaction she had come to expect but couldn't find. The disgust, the fear, the condescension—it was all absent.

Instead, he stood there, calm and unbothered, his words echoing in her mind: I embrace the unknown.

Her chest tightened, a mix of emotions threatening to spill over. For so long, she had built her walls high, expecting anyone who approached to tear them down and leave her more broken than before. But Luca hadn't even tried to scale them. He had simply stood there, steady and unyielding, as if daring her to believe him.

Aeliana's voice was barely above a whisper as she asked, "How can you be so certain? So… unafraid?"

Luca's smirk deepened slightly, a glint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes as he looked directly into Aeliana's. The intensity of his gaze softened, replaced by a warmth that felt disarming and inexplicably steady.

"That," he said, his tone light and teasing, "is a secret."

Before Aeliana could respond, he turned on his heel, his coat swaying lightly with the movement, and strolled back toward the fire. His steps were unhurried, as though the weight of their conversation hadn't lingered on him in the slightest.

He sat down beside the flickering flames, leaning back casually against a rock. Reaching out, he stoked the embers with a small stick, his movements calm and deliberate.

"Come," he said after a moment, his voice laced with the faintest hint of teasing. "You'll get cold sitting over there."

The gentleness in his tone caught her off guard. It wasn't condescending or pitying—it was simply an invitation, simple and unassuming.

Aeliana blinked, her mind still reeling from everything he had said. Her fingers hovered near her veil, trembling slightly, but she didn't lift it again. Her thoughts raced, tangled between disbelief, confusion, and a small, fragile warmth she couldn't quite place.

She hesitated, her body still tense as she glanced toward the fire. The warmth it radiated seemed so inviting compared to the cold wall she had pressed herself against. But the idea of moving, of closing the space between them, felt monumental.

Luca didn't look at her directly, but his smirk lingered as he tossed the stick into the fire and stretched his arms. "Or you can stay there, I suppose," he said, his voice taking on a mockingly thoughtful tone. "But don't blame me if you freeze to death before morning. I've been told I'm not much of a rescuer twice in one night."

Aeliana's lips twitched, an almost-smile threatening to surface despite herself.

'What is with this man?' she thought, exhaling shakily.

Finally, with a deep breath, she pushed herself to her feet, her legs still trembling slightly. She took a tentative step forward, her gaze flicking between the fire and Luca, who hadn't moved from his spot.

As she drew closer, his smirk widened ever so slightly, though he didn't say a word.

Aeliana lowered herself cautiously onto the ground, settling near the edge of the fire's warmth but still keeping a careful distance from him. She folded her legs beneath her, her fingers clutching the fabric of her skirt as she stared into the flames.

For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire.

"See?" Luca said finally, his tone still carrying that infuriating mix of teasing and gentleness. "Much better, isn't it?"

Aeliana shot him a sidelong glance, her amber eyes narrowing slightly, though the tension in her shoulders had eased. "You're insufferable," she muttered, her voice quieter than she intended.

Luca chuckled, leaning back with a satisfied grin. "Maybe," he said easily. "But at least you're not freezing anymore."

Aeliana looked away, focusing on the dancing flames as her lips pressed into a thin line. Despite her lingering frustration, she couldn't deny that the warmth of the fire—and the strange, unyielding presence of the man beside it—was a small comfort she hadn't realized she needed.

Chapter 407: Unbelivable

The two sat in the quiet glow of the fire, the cavern filled with nothing but the soft crackle of flames and the faint rustle of the wind beyond its entrance. Aeliana's gaze lingered on the dancing embers, but her thoughts were far from still.

The silence, though calming at first, started to gnaw at her. It felt too open, too vulnerable, as if it invited her to think too much. Her hands brushed against her exposed arms, and the sensation of the cool air against her skin felt foreign, unsettling. She had spent so long shrouded in her veil, protected from the world's touch, that this bare openness felt almost intrusive.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, she spoke.

"How did you know?"

Luca turned his head slightly, his dark eyes flicking toward her. "Know what?" he asked, his voice light.

"That I was watching you," she said, her voice quieter now, tinged with curiosity and a hint of apprehension.

A slow smile spread across Luca's face as he turned fully toward her, leaning back on one arm. "How could I miss it?" he said smoothly. "When a beautiful girl is looking at me like that? You may not know this, but since I'm pretty handsome, I get a lot of gazes."

Aeliana blinked, her lips parting in disbelief. Then her mouth twitched, and she couldn't stop the small scoff that escaped her.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, turning her eyes back to the fire. "You really are full of yourself."

Luca chuckled, unbothered by her reaction. "Confidence is a virtue, you know," he said, his smirk never wavering.

Aeliana shook her head, her frustration mingling with a reluctant amusement. But her thoughts lingered on something else he'd said earlier, something that had stuck with her despite the chaos of the moment.

"I, Lucavion, am scared of nothing."

She glanced at him again, her brow furrowing slightly. "Who's Lucavion?"

Luca froze for a fraction of a second, his confident smirk faltering just enough for her to notice. He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. "A slip of the tongue," he said quickly, waving a hand dismissively.

Aeliana's amber eyes narrowed, her suspicion growing. "I don't think it was," she said, her tone calm but pointed. "Are you hiding your real name?"

Luca coughed lightly, looking away as if the flames suddenly demanded his full attention. "You're imagining things," he said smoothly, though the faintest hint of nervousness crept into his voice. "Luca's my name, and that's all there is to it."

Aeliana tilted her head, studying him carefully. For someone so practiced in exuding confidence, he was remarkably bad at hiding his tells.

"You're a terrible liar," she said flatly.

Luca's head snapped back toward her, his expression shifting into mock offense. "Terrible liar? Me? That hurts. I thought we were bonding here."

Her lips twitched again, but this time she didn't bother suppressing the small smirk that followed. "I think you're hiding something," she said simply, leaning back slightly. "And I'll figure it out."

Luca raised a brow, his smirk returning as he leaned closer, his tone taking on a teasing edge. "Oh? Is that a challenge, little missy?"

Aeliana's cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn't look away. "Maybe it is," she said, her voice steady despite the faint warmth in her face.

The two stared at each other for a moment, the firelight casting flickering shadows across their faces. Then Luca leaned back again, his smirk softening into something more playful.

"Well, good luck with that," he said lightly, his tone almost sing-song. "But don't be too disappointed if you find I'm just as mysterious as I am handsome."

Aeliana rolled her eyes, her irritation flaring briefly before settling into something quieter, more amused.

'This man,' she thought, glancing at him again. 'He's ridiculous and strange.'

But what was stranger was the fact that she was somehow finding comfort in that strangeness of his.

The fire crackled softly, and just as Aeliana thought the conversation might finally give her some peace, Luca reached into his pack. After a moment of rummaging, he pulled out a small, plain mug. The kind of thing you'd find in a roadside inn—bland, unadorned, and entirely ordinary.

He extended it toward her with a casual motion, the liquid inside gently steaming. "Here. Drink it."

Aeliana looked at the mug, her brows furrowing. Compared to the elegant, intricately designed cups she had grown up with, this looked almost… offensive.

Her amber eyes flicked up to Luca's face. "No," she said bluntly, her tone as flat as her expression.

Luca blinked, tilting his head. "Why not?"

She wrinkled her nose slightly. "It doesn't look good."

He stared at her for a moment before a slow, amused smile spread across his face. "Seriously? You were eating my food like you'd never seen anything better just a few minutes ago, and now you're worried about how this looks?"

Aeliana stiffened, her cheeks flushing faintly. "That's not the same thing," she snapped, her tone sharp and defensive. "I was just hungry! It wasn't like your food tasted good or anything."

Luca raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Oh really? It didn't taste good?"

"Exactly," she said firmly, crossing her arms. "I've eaten much better food before."

"Uh-huh," Luca said, clearly unconvinced, leaning back slightly as he observed her with an exaggeratedly patient expression. "Go on, then. Enlighten me, little miss food critic. What was so wrong with my masterpiece?"

Aeliana's lips parted in surprise, not expecting his response. But the challenge in his tone sparked something in her—a familiarity she hadn't felt in a long time.

"Well," she began, her voice taking on an unexpectedly serious tone as she straightened up. "First of all, the seasoning was uneven. You didn't account for the way the spices would cling to the meat, which made some bites too bland and others overpowering."

Luca blinked, his smirk faltering slightly.

"And," Aeliana continued, gesturing lightly with her hand, "the texture was off. You didn't cut the meat properly, so some parts were chewy, while others were almost dry. That's a basic mistake."

Luca opened his mouth to retort, but Aeliana wasn't finished.

"And don't get me started on the char marks. The fire was too hot—you didn't let it cool to a proper cooking temperature. The result was an inconsistent sear that left a faintly burnt aftertaste."

By now, Luca was staring at her, his dark eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "You're… serious, aren't you?"

Aeliana ignored him, her momentum building. "You also completely ignored the potential of balancing the flavor profile with something acidic. A squeeze of citrus or even a basic glaze would've elevated it significantly."

"Anything else?" Luca asked, his voice caught between bemusement and exasperation.

Aeliana's expression softened for a brief moment, her tone quieter as she added, "Though I will admit… it wasn't terrible. For someone who clearly doesn't know what they're doing."

Luca stared at her for a long moment, then burst into laughter, his voice echoing warmly through the cavern.

"What?" Aeliana snapped, her cheeks flushing again.

"You're unbelievable," he said, still chuckling as he shook his head. "Here I thought I was the dramatic one. Turns out, you've got me beat."

"It's not dramatic," she said stiffly, her chin lifting slightly. "I just know what I'm talking about."

"Oh, I can tell," Luca replied, his grin returning. "What were you, some kind of secret gourmet or something?"

Aeliana hesitated, her expression faltering as a flicker of something nostalgic crossed her face. "Not… secret," she said quietly, her voice softening. "There was a time when I… enjoyed it. Critiquing food, exploring new flavors. It was one of the few things I could still do when…"

She trailed off, her gaze dropping to her lap as her fingers absently brushed against the edge of her veil.

Luca's grin faded slightly, replaced by a thoughtful look. "When things changed?" he asked gently, his voice lacking its usual teasing lilt.

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. "People used to care about my opinions. At least for a while. But then, when my illness started to show…" Her voice wavered, but she caught herself. "Let's just say, they stopped caring about what I thought of their cooking."

Luca was quiet for a moment, watching her carefully. Then he held out the plain mug again, his tone lighter but still steady. "Well, in that case, the least you can do is tell me how bad my tea is."

Aeliana looked up at him, surprised by the unexpected kindness in his gesture.

"It's not poisoned," he added, smirking again. "Probably."

Her lips twitched, and for a moment, she almost smiled. With a small sigh, she reached out, her fingers brushing against the warm ceramic of the mug.

"I'm not promising anything," she said, her voice regaining a hint of her usual sharpness.

"That's the spirit," Luca replied, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

As she took a tentative sip, the warmth of the tea seeped into her chest, mingling with the faint, unfamiliar comfort of the man sitting across from her.

"Now."

"Now?"

"When are you going to tell me your name?"