Chapter 33
The warm afternoon sun streamed through the tall glass windows, casting its light into a quiet corner of the Royal Library. The air was filled with the scent of old books and the faint aroma of wood wax. Serena, not the duchess from the book, but the real Serena in her comfortable dress, gently closed the beautifully bound copy of *Binary Paths: The Twilight of the Empire*. The soft click of the pages closing was particularly clear in the quiet space.
She turned her head to look at Lucien, who was sitting in a soft chair beside her. He wasn't wearing the attire symbolizing royalty, but rather a simple dark casual suit. The cold crown on his forehead was also absent; the soft afternoon light softened the usual cold lines of his face, making him appear less imposing and more languid. He held a report about the western shipping route in his hand, but his gaze didn't seem to be focused on it.
Serena pushed the book on her lap slightly toward him, a playful smile breaking the silence: "The story in this book... is truly imaginative. Tell me, what kind of feelings does that 'Lucian' have for that 'Serena'?" She paused, her tone carrying a certainty of speculation, her blue eyes gleaming with insight, "I feel, it's definitely not love."
Lucien lifted his gaze from the report and landed on her face. His deep purple eyes, though not so dark in the sunlight, reflected a few golden glints. He didn't answer immediately, but instead reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair, tinged golden by the sunlight, behind her ear, a gesture that was both natural and practiced.
Then, he turned his gaze to the novel, casually tapping the gilded title with his fingertip, his tone carrying a nonchalant yet incisive analysis:
“Possession.” His voice was low and steady. “That ‘Lucian,’ initially possessed her out of revenge, trying to use her as a trophy to wash away his shame. Later, it became a paranoid possession of something that had slipped out of his control, because her resistance and escape exceeded his expectations. Finally…”
He paused slightly, a faint, almost cold smile curving his lips. "...It's the possession of a 'special value.' The abilities she displayed, the new possibilities she brought, made her a unique, irreplaceable 'collectible,' even capable of enhancing his own power. He couldn't destroy her, nor was he willing to let go, so he chose to place her in a position where he could both utilize and monitor her. In essence, this is still a form of disguised possession."
His analysis was as calm as dissecting an antique that had nothing to do with him, precisely stripping away all romantic fantasies and getting straight to the heart of the matter.
"As for love?" Lucien withdrew his finger and looked at Serena again, a genuine warmth flashing deep in his eyes, completely different from his analysis just now. "That requires an equal perspective, respect for the other person's independent will, and... knowing how to let go. The person in the book, from beginning to end, only knew how to seize and control."
Serena's smile deepened as she listened to his words, a mixture of understanding and a hint of mockery in her expression: "Sounds like he's not exactly a likable character."
“Indeed not.” Lucien readily admitted, reaching out to gently grasp her hand over the book, his palm warm and real. “He was pathetic, trapped in his own power and obsession, and in the end, all he gained was a carefully maintained, cold balance. He may have possessed an empire, but he never truly understood, much less possessed… anything truly worth cherishing.”
His gaze was fixed on her, devoid of the coldness and scrutiny described in the book, replaced only by a clear and visible tenderness and focus belonging to Lucien—her Lucien.
The sunlight outside the window grew even warmer, casting the shadows of the two figures nestled together onto the ancient floor. The novel that had sparked the conversation lay quietly to one side. Suddenly, the tranquil and warm atmosphere, like a calm lake tossed with a pebble, was shattered by a burst of light footsteps and the unrestrained, boisterous chatter of children.
The heavy doors of the library were pushed open with a bang, and two small figures rushed in like a whirlwind, followed by a maid with a helpless expression who was trying to keep them quiet.
"Mother! Father!" A clear, childlike female voice rang out first, like a silver bell. Olivia Augustus, the little princess who inherited her father's deep purple eyes and her mother's golden hair, wore an exquisite blue dress and rushed towards Serena like a happy little bird, clutching tightly in her hand a "masterpiece" that she had just finished, the ink seemingly still wet.
Almost simultaneously, a slightly more composed but equally impatient boy's voice rang out: "Father! You promised to watch me practice my new sword stance this afternoon!" Kaylan Augustus, the future heir to the empire, with black hair and a serious little face just like Lucien, also ran to Lucien's armchair with the unusual eagerness of his age.
The tranquility was completely dispelled, and the air was instantly filled with the liveliness, or rather, the noise, of children.
Serena's thoughtful and playful expression was instantly replaced by a gentle smile. She opened her arms to catch her daughter as she rushed towards her, carefully avoiding the painting that might be stained with ink. "My little Ollie, what's wrong? Why are you running so fast?"
The moment the door opened, the coldness in Lucien's eyes, usually reserved when analyzing characters in a novel, melted away. Though his expression remained anything but warm, his deep purple eyes softened when he looked at his children, losing all their sharpness and revealing a profound, almost imperceptible gentleness. He put down the report in his hand and looked at his son: "I remember my promise, Kaylan. But you should knock before entering a room, especially when your mother is reading. It's a matter of etiquette."
Kaylan's little face flushed slightly. She immediately stood up straight, trying her best to imitate her father's usual manner, and said earnestly, "Yes, Father. I will remember next time." But in her eyes, which were so similar to Lucien's, there was still a glimmer of anticipation for the upcoming swordsmanship instruction.
Olivia, completely disregarding etiquette, excitedly held up the painting in front of Serena: "Mother, look! This is what I drew! This is you, this is Father, this is me and Kaylan! We are all in the garden, and there's 'Spark'!" "Spark" was her chubby, golden-red pet cat.
On the drawing paper were a portrait composed of bold, yet crooked, lines, and an abstract cat that took up almost half the picture. Serena admired it attentively, sparing no praise: "It's wonderfully drawn, Ollie! You've drawn 'Spark' so majestically."
Lucien leaned forward slightly, his gaze falling on his daughter's "masterpiece," and the corners of his mouth curved upwards almost imperceptibly: "The composition is very...impressive."
Serena looked up and exchanged a glance with Lucien, her eyes filled with a mixture of helplessness and overwhelming happiness at the lively scene before her. All the power struggles, distorted possessions, and cold checks and balances described in books seemed so distant and unreal in the face of the children's vibrant lives and the lively, bustling family atmosphere.
“Alright, my little warriors,” Serena smiled and patted Olivia’s hair, then looked at Kaylan, “it seems our afternoon reading time will have to end early. Kaylan, go prepare your practice wooden sword. Olivia, perhaps we can hang your painting in the hallway?”
The children cheered, their brief discussion about the fictional story long forgotten.
Lucien stood up, his tall figure stretching out in the sunlight. He looked at Serena, his eyes questioning. Serena smiled and nodded at him.
So the emperor took his son's hand and led him to the courtyard to fulfill his promise of swordsmanship instruction. Meanwhile, the empire's mistress, with her daughter who was enthusiastically showing off her paintings, went to find a suitable place to display the childlike "family portrait."
The library fell silent again, with only the warm sunlight and the forgotten copy of "Binary Trajectory: The Twilight of an Empire" lying on the soft chair, its pages quietly closed, as if the profound analysis of possession and love that had just occurred had never happened.
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