The woman gave a soft sigh, her shoulders easing slightly as the weight of a dozen wandering stares settled back into their own spaces. Her expression, though still composed, held a glimr of regret, and she looked at Lucas with a kind of sincerity that was rare in rooms where pride reigned supre.
"I must apologize," she said, her voice low enough that only he could hear it now, a contrast to the sharp tone she had used to silence the others. "It wasn’t my intention to draw attention to you. I shouldn’t have spoken so loudly, especially when I didn’t yet know the situation."
Lucas regarded her for a mont, quiet as always, asuring the truth in her voice. He could tell that she ant it. There was no mockery in her eyes, no hidden amusent, and no flippant disregard for the scene she had sparked. She simply hadn’t expected him to be who he claid to be, and her surprise had gotten the better of her. For that, she was owning it.
He nodded once, slow but genuine. "It’s fine. I’m used to it."
That was all he said, but there was a weight to the words, a calm certainty that needed no embellishnt. And that made the tension between them lt.
The woman smiled gently, clearly relieved that he hadn’t taken offense. She extended a hand, her fingers slender and elegant, evidence that her beauty was no delicate thing.
"My na is Isabelle," she said, her voice regaining so of its warmth now. "Isabelle Harren. I co from the Kingdom of Caron. My husband serves as a high-ranking noble in the royal court there. I’ve only recently been permitted to practice alchemy publicly. The court doesn’t make it easy for won...."
Lucas didn’t comnt on that, but the knowledge added another layer to his impression of her. A woman who could command this much presence and confidence, yet had to fight just to be seen in a world of n clinging to old traditions. It made sense now why her presence had stirred such attention, she was not just another alchemist, she was a talented one.
He gave a slight bow of the head out of courtesy, lifting his hand just enough in return for the gesture she had offered. "Xavier Alden," he said simply. "I represent Valerion."
There was no ntion of his lineage or any ties to the palace. He had no need to bolster himself with nas or titles. If he was to be recognized, it would be through his hands and his skill alone.
Isabelle tilted her head slightly, perhaps noting the lack of formality in his introduction, or perhaps impressed by it. She offered another smile, this one laced with intrigue. "Well then, Alchemist Alden, I hope we both make a good showing tomorrow. Though... I’d be lying if I said I’m not curious to see what you can really do."
Lucas only gave a faint smile in return, that subtle curve of his lips that spoke more through silence than any boast ever could.
"When tomorrow cos," he said, his voice quiet but firm, "we’ll deal with it then."
There was no arrogance in his tone, only assurance. It wasn’t a threat or a promise, it was simply a statent of fact, that reflected the clarity in his eyes and the unshakable calm he carried like a second skin.
Isabelle looked at him for a long mont, as though asuring the weight of those words. Her lips curved once more, this ti into a smile that held more than politeness, it carried sothing closer to admiration, perhaps even respect. She nodded slightly, said nothing further, and stood up gracefully to leave.
Lucas rose from his seat as she did, offering a small, courteous bow, not out of obligation but because he had co to respect her, if only in the brief interaction they had shared. Isabelle acknowledged the gesture with a gentle tilt of her head, the delicate strands of her dark hair falling slightly as she did. And then she walked away, each step as fluid and deliberate as a dance, her presence still lingering in the room long after her figure had disappeared into the hallway.
The scent of her perfu drifted in her wake, subtle and warm, a mix of soft floral and sothing richer, deeper, like an exotic herb ward by sunlight. Lucas caught it on the air as it passed him, and it stirred a faint but undeniable awareness in him. She was a woman of elegance and mystery, a force wrapped in grace and silk, and her beauty, both striking and stately, was not sothing easily dismissed.
He stood still for a mont, alone now at the table, his eyes lowered in thought. Then, as he glanced up again, he beca acutely aware of the gazes still fixed on him from across the room.
Many of the other alchemists had not returned to their conversations. Their eyes were still narrowed in his direction, and their expressions were sharp with sothing that wasn’t just curiosity. Contempt lingered there, thinly veiled and bitter. So sneered openly, others whispered behind half-raised mugs of ale. To them, Lucas was still an outsider, a boy with no master, no history in the circles of Alchemic prestige, and yet he had dared to claim a place among them. Worse still, he had gained the attention of the most admired woman present without lifting a finger.
Lucas t none of their gazes. He didn’t offer a word, didn’t return a look, and didn’t acknowledge their pettiness. He simply turned away, collected the few items he had brought to the table, and walked toward the stairs leading up to the guest chambers.
Behind him, the tension in the room didn’t ease completely, but he was no longer concerned with it.
He had co here to test himself, not for the approval of the Alchemists here.
Lucas climbed the steps with quiet resolve, reaching the upper hallway and making his way to the room the guards had arranged for him earlier. He entered without hesitation, closed the door behind him, and left the noise and stares behind.
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