Lucas ordered the butler to escort Evie to one of the guest chambers. She was given a fresh dress, and once she had changed, a carriage was arranged to take her home.
In his study, Lucas stood by the tall window, hands tucked into his coat pockets, his gaze fixed on the whispering woods beyond. The moonlight etched long silver shadows on the floor.
The door creaked open behind him.
"The young miss has been taken home, Master," Lionel reported with a polite bow. "The carriage has returned."
Lucas didn't turn around. His eyes remained locked on the forest line.
"Lionel," he said calmly, "have you ever heard of creatures that dwell in the shadows?"
He hadn't told anyone yet—but Lucas had seen something strange. Evie had two shadows that night. One of them mirrored her movements like it should. But the other… the other seemed to move with a will of its own. It stood behind her like a silent guardian. And when she left, it followed.
"Master… are you referring to the shadow guards?" Lionel asked. That name caught Lucas's attention.
He finally turned, walking to his desk and lowering himself into the chair behind it. He picked up the cup of blood tea, the steam curling faintly in the cool air.
"Tell me everything you know," Lucas said.
Lionel gave a small nod.
"Centuries ago, there were creatures known as Shadow Guards. They were ancient beings, loyal beyond question, created to serve and protect a single noble race. Their presence was considered sacred—an honor. But not all shadows were loyal. Eventually, another type emerged. We called them Dark Shadows. They looked the same, but they were independent… rebels, if you will. They had no masters and no purpose but their own."
Lucas took a slow sip, listening intently.
"The Dark Shadows began whispering to the guards. Corrupting them. Stirring rebellion. Eventually, a coup was planned. The queen who ruled the protected race discovered it too late. To save her people, she sealed herself and the traitorous shadows inside a painting—a prison of enchanted canvas. After that, stories of the shadows faded into myth."
He paused briefly, his voice still level. "I come from a family of historians. That's how I learned of them."
Lucas tapped a finger against the teacup. "Was there ever mention of a king? Or a child? Perhaps a servant who stayed loyal?"
Lionel furrowed his brow. "There was a fleeting mention of the queen being with child. But after that, nothing. No name, no gender, not even a birth. It was as if the pregnancy vanished from history. And no records ever spoke of loyal subjects either. All signs suggest… she died with her unborn child."
Lucas exhaled through his nose. "So we're left wandering in the dark."
He took another sip of his tea, then set it down with a soft clink.
"Where's Eureka?"
"She's been in her room all day," Lionel replied. "Surprisingly quiet. No tricks. No attempts to escape. But I still don't trust her."
"I don't either," Lucas said. "Bring her here. And make sure the maids stay off the first floor."
Lionel bowed once more and exited without a word.
Lucas pulled open the drawer to his left and retrieved a small red gemstone. It glowed softly, casting a crimson hue across the study. His name was etched into its heart, almost glowing in the dim light.
For a moment, the present slipped away.
He was a boy again—running barefoot through sun-drenched gardens, laughter echoing like music. A young woman chased him, breathless but smiling. Her brown curls bounced with each step.
"Mother, you can't catch me!" the young Lucas giggled.
"I'll catch you yet, Lucas!" she called, her smile full of warmth.
But after a few more strides, she stopped. One hand went to her chest as her breathing grew labored. Lucas ran back, wrapping his small arms around her waist.
"You don't have to chase me, Mama," he said. "Your son will always listen. Just ask."
She laughed softly, her fingers gently brushing his hair. Then she pulled a red gemstone from her pocket and placed the chain around his neck.
"Promise me," she said, holding his gaze, "that you'll never take this off. And promise you'll always be obedient to your mama."
"I promise!" he beamed, kissing her cheek.
That promise… it haunted him. Because not long after, he watched her die. Helpless. Just a child. The gemstone he now held was the only piece of her he had left.
He closed his eyes and let out a breath. The door opened.
Lionel entered with Eureka trailing behind. Her arms were crossed, and her face was locked in a stubborn scowl.
"I told you," she snapped. "I don't work for anyone. I just want peace. A life far from the surface."
She glared at Lucas, but the intensity faded under Lionel's quiet stare.
Lucas smiled with deliberate charm. "Evening to you too, Eureka. You look radiant tonight. Positively glowing."
Eureka's posture shifted. She always had a weakness for compliments—especially about her looks. As one of the few witches known for her beauty, she was used to being admired. And Lucas knew exactly how to bait her.
Her spine straightened, and she tilted her chin up, stealing a glance at Lionel. Her heart skipped when she caught him looking—just for a second—before his gaze slid coldly back to Lucas.
"Save your sweet words," she muttered, but the edges of her scowl had softened. "Try them on someone who cares."
Lucas grinned. "Why would I lie to you? You really do look lovely tonight."
He looked toward Lionel. "Don't you agree?"
Lionel's face didn't flicker. He offered only the words.
"Master speaks the truth. Miss Eureka, you're striking. I dare say you might surpass the rest of your kind in beauty."
His voice was hollow, detached, as though reciting a list. But Eureka's eyes lit up, lips twitching into the smallest of smirks.
They were just words to him.
But to her… they meant more.
Lucas leaned forward. The air shifted.
"Have you ever heard of the Shadow Guards?" he asked, tone dropping into business.
Eureka's gaze sharpened instantly.
Now they were getting to the real reason she was called.