And if his suspicions were correct... if she truly was Eleanor’s daughter, his daughter...
"Who am I?" Julian’s smile turned playful, almost teasing. He took another casual step forward, closing the distance between them slightly. "That’s a very good question. Perhaps a better one would be, who are you, Lady Seraphine? Such power, such beauty, such authority... you’re clearly not just anyone."
"I asked you first," she countered. "And you will answer, or I will remove you from this place by force."
"By force?" Julian’s eyebrows rose. He let his gaze travel over her again, slower this ti.
His eyes traced the curve of her neck, the line of her collarbone, and the generous swell of her breasts, down to that narrow waist and those wide hips.
"I must say, the idea of you attempting to... handle ... is quite intriguing."
The double aning in his words was unmistakable.
Seraphine’s mouth fell open slightly, shock replacing her anger. Her blush deepened to a crimson that nearly matched her gown.
"You... you insufferable... How dare you speak to in such a manner!"
"I dare many things, beautiful one," Julian replied smoothly, his smile never wavering.
He took another step forward, now close enough that he could sll her scent. "But I assure you, my intentions are entirely... honorable. Mostly."
He added the last word with a predatory grin that made her take an involuntary step backward.
"Stay back!" she commanded, though her voice had risen in pitch slightly. Her hand finally moved to her sword now, gripping the hilt. "I am warning you—"
"Warning ?" Julian interrupted gently, his tone becoming softer. "Tell sothing, Seraphine. Those eyes of yours... that particular shade of blue. It’s quite rare, isn’t it? I’ve only ever seen it in one other person."
Seraphine froze, her hand tightening on her sword. "What... what are you talking about?"
"And your features," Julian continued, studying her face with an intensity that made her breath catch. "So refined, so perfect. You resemble soone I know very well. Soone very dear to ."
"I don’t know what you’re implying," Seraphine said, but uncertainty had crept into her voice. "My mother—"
She cut herself off abruptly, her eyes widening as if she had revealed too much.
Julian’s smile softened, becoming genuinely warm. "Your mother," he repeated quietly. "And what is your mother’s na, beautiful Seraphine?"
"That is none of your concern," she shot back, but the fire had gone out of her voice. She was looking at him differently now—studying his face with the sa intensity he had been using on her. Her gaze traced his features, lingered on his eyes, and dropped to his build and bearing.
Recognition flickered in her expression, followed quickly by denial.
"You can’t be..." she whispered.
Julian said nothing, just continued to smile at her—that warm, playful smile that made her heart race for reasons she couldn’t quite understand.
"The stories say you died," Seraphine continued, her voice barely audible now. "That you sacrificed yourself to save everyone. That you sent them all here—"
"Stories have a way of being both true and incomplete," Julian interrupted gently. "Yes, I died. But death, as it turns out, is not always permanent. Not for one who created this world."
Seraphine’s hand fell away from her sword. She stared at him, her lips parted slightly in shock.
"Father?" she whispered.
Julian’s smile widened. "There it is. Though I must say, daughter dear, if I had known you would grow up to be quite this... stunning... I might have worried more about leaving you unguarded. You’re going to break hearts across entire realms looking like that."
Seraphine’s shock lted into amusent at his words. Her blue eyes, so like his own, narrowed slightly, though the corners of her lips twitched upward in a way that told Julian she was fighting a smile.
"You leave your daughter for gods-know-how-many years," she said, her voice sharp but laced with a playful edge, "and now that you’re back, you ogle and flirt? What a sly father you are."
She tilted her head, her gaze both challenging and teasing, blonde hair cascading over one shoulder with the movent.
"Should I be flattered or scandalized?"
Julian chuckled, thoroughly impressed by her confidence. She stood before him with the calmness of a queen, matching his energy with her own.
"Flattered, of course," he said smoothly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I’m rely appreciating the masterpiece you’ve beco. Can you bla a father for being... pleasantly surprised?"
He let his gaze travel over her once more—not lecherously this ti, but with genuine pride. She had grown into sothing extraordinary.
Seraphine raised an eyebrow, her lips now fully curving into a smirk. "Pleasantly surprised, are you? That’s a fine way to dodge responsibility for abandoning to this world while you went off playing dead."
She placed one hand on her hip. The slit in her gown parted with the movent, revealing another tantalizing glimpse of her toned thigh. "And here I thought the creator of this realm would have better manners than to flirt so shalessly with his own kin."
"Shaless?" Julian waved his hand dramatically. "I prefer charming. And besides, I created this world—manners are whatever I decide they are."
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Though I must admit, you’ve inherited more than just my eyes. That wit of yours... it’s dangerously sharp. I wonder who you got that from?"
Seraphine laughed, a bright, lodic sound that seed to freshen the very air around them.
"Oh, I’m sure it’s from Mother," she shot back without hesitation. "She always said you were more trouble than you were worth, though she would blush when she said it."
Her eyes sparkled as she continued, "Seems I inherited her good sense and your... addiction for trouble."
Julian’s grin turned wicked, delighted by her quick response. "Trouble? ? I’m the very picture of virtue."
The statent was so obviously false that even he couldn’t say it with a straight face. Seraphine snorted.
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