That day, Lucien went to Marina’s world.
The others had been worried about her.
Ever since that day, Marina had avoided him. She stayed in her own world.
Lucien could only sigh.
A district had already been prepared for her people in Lootwell too. The territory was changing fast. Too fast, perhaps, to leave one of its most important figures sulking in a private ocean while the rest of the world prepared to move.
So he ca personally.
When he arrived in Marina’s world, the people there recognized him at once.
Before, many of them had looked at him with caution, uncertainty, or the strange reverence reserved for soone their Water Goddess clearly took too seriously to be ordinary. Now, however, that reverence had settled into sothing steadier.
Respect.
They bowed.
So greeted him by title. So by posture. So by the simple honesty of people who knew their lives had beco better after being brought under his protection.
To them, Lucien was the man their Water Goddess revered, the sovereign of the greater territory where their people had grown stronger, safer, and closer to the goddess they loved.
He returned their greetings with ease, spoke to several of them briefly, asked after their settling, their training, their waters, and their comfort, and then continued onward toward Marina’s island.
That was when the sea rose.
Water surged upward in one clean column and took shape in front of him. A feminine figure ford out of it. Her hair flowed like a dark current and her expression carried exactly the kind of divine severity Marina liked to borrow when she wanted to feel intimidating.
It was Marina’s water projection.
The Water Goddess.
Lucien stopped and looked at it with imdiate amusent.
The projection looked down at him and spoke in a cool, formal tone.
"What did you co here for?"
Lucien folded his arms.
"I ca to speak with the Water Goddess."
The projection’s eyes narrowed.
"Begone. I do not speak to playboys."
Lucien almost choked.
He coughed into his fist, stared at the divine water woman for a second, and then said, "That is an outrageous abuse of religious imagery."
The projection ignored him with dignity that would have been more convincing if it had not clearly been Marina talking through water while sulking.
"Begone," it repeated. "Womanizers are not welco in sacred waters."
Then the figure dissolved back into the sea with all the dramatic finality of soone who very much wanted to be chased.
Lucien watched the water flatten.
Then he sighed.
"Well, at least she’s talking."
He continued anyway.
And when he reached the island, the atmosphere only beca more ridiculous.
Warnings had been placed everywhere.
So hung from trees. So floated on water. So had been carved into polished stone with far more effort than the ssage deserved.
NO PLAYBOYS ALLOWED.
WOMANIZERS WILL DIE A HORRIBLE DEATH.
LIARS, CHEATERS, AND SUSPICIOUSLY CHARMING N MUST TURN BACK NOW.
TRESPASSERS MAY BE DROWNED WITH MORAL JUSTIFICATION.
Lucien stood in front of one sign for a long mont.
Then he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I don’t know whether to laugh or cry."
He chose neither and walked straight toward her mansion.
There was no real resistance.
That, more than the signs, told him everything.
If Marina had truly wanted him gone, the island itself would have fought him.
Instead, nothing stopped him.
So Lucien entered the house.
And found Marina on the floor.
Or rather—
he found a puddle.
A suspiciously moody puddle.
Lucien stared at it.
He crouched slowly.
"Marina."
The puddle trembled once, then spread itself flatter against the floor in what looked suspiciously like deliberate lodrama.
Lucien let out a helpless breath.
She was a strange one.
Too honest in so things. Too shaless in others. Too dramatic when hurt. Too endearing when she had no right to be.
He had treated her like a weird younger sister once. Then she kept provoking him until that beca no longer entirely possible. Now, sohow, after all that chaos, she had retreated right back into the shell of soone soft and introverted and wounded enough to beco a puddle on principle.
Lucien decided to respect the absurdity and talk to the puddle properly.
"Marina," he said again, gentler this ti, "the others are worried. Will you co outside with ?"
The puddle moved.
A small wave rose from its surface.
Then the water extended into a pointing shape.
It pointed at him.
A voice ca from it at last.
"How about you?"
Lucien blinked.
The puddle rippled again.
"Are you worried about too?"
There was no accusation in the question.
That made it worse.
Lucien did not lie.
"Of course I am," he said simply. "Otherwise I wouldn’t have co here myself."
The puddle went still.
Then, slowly, the water gathered itself upward and took shape.
Marina reappeared.
She stood before him in one of her looser outfits.
Lucien let out a breath of relief.
"That’s better."
Marina looked at him for a mont.
Then she smiled.
It was not her usual shaless smile yet. This one was quieter.
"My prince," she said, "I’ve been thinking a lot these days."
Lucien tilted his head.
Marina placed a hand over her chest.
"You are basically the king of this place now."
Lucien said nothing.
Marina’s smile shifted.
It beca just a little more dangerous.
"A king," she continued, "can have as many concubines as he wants."
Lucien stared.
Marina’s eyes glead.
"So," she said lightly, "how about you make one?"
Lucien felt sothing in his soul leave his body and then return only because responsibility dragged it back.
’What a succubus.’ That was the only thought in his head.
Marina had a terrible gift for looking helpless one second and then catching him off guard with words that made entire ntal alarm systems collapse in sequence.
Lucien opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"That," he said at last, with the careful tone of a man crossing a battlefield full of hidden traps, "is not sothing I alone can decide."
Marina imdiately looked dissatisfied.
"Hmph."
Then she turned her face away from him in open complaint.
Lucien scratched his head.
He truly was not good at direct advances like that.
Fortunately, Marina did not make him suffer long.
After a few more breaths of silence, she finally glanced back at him and said,
"I will go outside," she declared, "if you carry out."
Lucien nearly sighed in relief.
That, at least, sounded survivable.
"Just carrying?"
Marina’s eyes lit instantly.
"Yes."
Lucien nodded once.
"That’s acceptable."
The mont he said that, Marina brightened completely, stepped forward, and climbed onto his back with alarming efficiency. Her arms wrapped around him. Her body pressed close without the slightest sha. Lucien froze for one catastrophic heartbeat before forcing himself to keep moving like a normal person.
Or as normal as possible while carrying a woman who seed to think boundaries were optional if she was cute enough about it.
As he walked, Lucien found his mind producing very unhelpful thoughts.
’Would Sera get angry?’
He suppressed the thought and focused instead on why he had co.
So, while carrying her, he explained the recent changes in Lootwell.
Marina listened attentively.
Then he told her the more important part.
"There’s a district for your people now too," he said.
Marina’s grip tightened slightly.
Lucien continued.
"You can bring them out into the greater territory. They can live there properly as part of Lootwell."
Marina said nothing at first.
So Lucien added the last piece.
"And I need you outside."
That made her go still.
Lucien shifted her slightly higher on his back and said, "When Lootwell opens to the public, I need trusted people in visible positions. I’m not planning to stand in front of everyone and announce myself to the whole world. I’ll remain behind the scenes for now."
Marina lifted her head slightly.
Lucien looked forward as he spoke.
"You," he said, "are one of the people I trust. I want you helping oversee things when the ti cos."
This ti her silence was different.
Bright.
Lucien could almost feel the determination rising in her before she even spoke.
"And," he added, "brief your people. No one openly uses my na. No one reveals the truth about who rules Lootwell."
Marina nodded against his shoulder.
"Of course."
Her voice had changed.
The last of the earlier gloom was gone now. In its place was a very Marina kind of intensity.
He had given her a real role. An important one.
And that mattered to her more than she would probably ever admit directly.
When they finally erged, the others noticed at once.
Marie was the first. Then Kaia. Then Sylra.
All of them looked at Lucien. Then at Marina clinging very comfortably to his back. Then back at Lucien again.
Marina, seeing their faces, imdiately stuck out her tongue with all the grace of a victorious child who had just stolen sothing minor but emotionally significant.
Marie pointed at her.
"You little—"
Marina tightened her hold around Lucien’s shoulders and announced shalessly, "I’m not getting down yet."
Lucien just laughed.
And so, for a while that day, he simply walked through Lootwell carrying a weird girl on his back while several other people looked at them with highly complicated expressions.
It was ridiculous.
It was peaceful.
It was, unfortunately, becoming normal.
•••
Later, Lucien began calling everyone back.
There were things that could no longer be delayed.
Lootwell was nearing the point where concealnt would no longer an hidden construction, but deliberate strategy. Before he opened the territory to the public, he needed the right people present.
He needed to brief them all. Position them all. Set the rules clearly before the world was allowed to look in.
So he sent word broadly.
He also asked Astraea to retrieve Luke and Cienna. He handed her the Spatial Compass and asked her to bring them back. Midas, Augustus, and the others who left too if possible.
He sent instructions for Reaper and Eldran and their teams to return as well.
Everyone figure needed to be called in.
Because sothing important was about to begin.
Lootwell was almost ready to stop being a rumor.
Soon—
it would have to decide what face it wanted to show the world first.
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