Chapter 11: Rules & Routines

The days were starting to blur together. I woke up every morning in that big, quiet guest room, stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, and tried to remember that this was my life now. No more waking up to Isadora’s sharp voice or Natalia’s mocking laughter.

I got dressed in simple clothes again and went downstairs for breakfast. Lucian was already at the table, like he had important meetings ahead. He didn’t look up when I sat down, but I could feel him noticing me.

Mrs. Hale brought breakfast. I picked at my food quietly for a while before Lucian finally spoke.

“I think I would need to tell you the rules again, no disobeying me again,” he said, his voice flat and serious. “I meant what I said yesterday. Stay out of my west wing… and you will join me for dinner every evening. No excuses.”

I set my fork down and looked at him. “Every evening? Even when you don’t want me around?”

He met my eyes then, cold and steady. “Especially then. Appearances matter in this world, Aurora. You’re my wife now. Act like it when required. The rest of the time, stay out of my way.”

The words stung. I wanted to argue, to tell him how lonely and trapped this all felt, but I bit my tongue. “Fine,” I said quietly. “Whatever you want.”

He nodded once, like the conversation was over, and went back to his coffee and phone. I finished eating in silence, the weight of his rules pressing down on me. No real freedom. No real connection. Just this cold, beautiful prison.

After breakfast, Lucian left for work without another word. I wandered the allowed parts of the mansion for a while, but the emptiness started to get to me. The big rooms felt too quiet. Too lonely. I missed Evelyn’s warm hugs and quiet words of comfort. I needed to hear her voice.

I slipped out to the garden behind the mansion, making sure no one was watching.

I found a place behind some tall plants and pulled out the hidden phone. My fingers shook a little as I dialed.

Evelyn answered quickly. “Aurora? Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” I whispered, even though I wasn’t. “It’s just… hard. Lucian started acting nice then just started being rude again. I feel so isolated here, like I’m disappearing. He orders me to eat dinner with him every night but barely speaks to me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

She sighed softly on the other end. “I know, sweetheart. It sounds difficult right now. But be patient. Lucian is not an easy man, but he is not like your father or the others. Give it time. Stay strong and keep your eyes open. Things will get better. I promise.”

“I’m trying,” I said, my voice cracking a little. “But some days it feels like I’m just waiting for the next cold thing he says. Or the next time he looks at me like I’m nothing.”

“You are not nothing,” Evelyn said firmly. “You are stronger than you know. Hold on a little longer. I’m here, even if I can’t be there physically right now.”

We talked for a few more minutes. Her voice helped ease some of the tightness in my chest. When we hung up, I sat there for a while longer, breathing in the fresh air before slipping the phone back into hiding and heading inside.

Later that afternoon, I was in the living room reading when Lucian came home earlier than usual. He had some papers in his hand and looked tense. I stood up quickly, not sure what to do.

“I was just leaving,” I said.

He stopped near the table. “These need to go on my desk in the study,” he said, holding out a folder. “Take them.”

I reached for the folder at the same time he moved it toward me. Our fingers brushed. Skin against skin. I looked up at him. His jaw was tight, eyes darker than usual.

Then he yanked his hand back like I’d burned him.

“Take them,” he repeated, voice cold again. “And stay out of my wing after you drop them off.”

I nodded, clutching the folder. “Okay.”

He turned and walked away without another word. I stood there for a moment, heart beating faster than it should. It was just fingers brushing. Nothing important. But it felt important.

I delivered the papers to his study quickly and left. Back in my room, I sat on the bed and touched my fingers, remembering the brief contact. Why did such small things affect me so much? Lucian was cruel and distant most of the time. He made it clear I was just part of an arrangement. So why did every accidental touch feel like electricity?

After dinner, I went back to my room and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The devil was full of contradictions. Cold rules. Icy words. But those small moments where his control slipped… those were the ones that scared me the most.

Because part of me was starting to wait for them.

And that felt more dangerous than any rule he could give.

Lucian’s Perspective (Internal)

I sat in my study after dinner, staring at the security feed again. There she was in the garden earlier, talking quietly on that hidden phone. She looked so small out there, trying to find comfort from the only person who seemed to care about her.

My hand tightened around the glass of whiskey. I shouldn’t have let my fingers linger when I gave her those documents. It made me want more. Too much more.

This was not the plan. I brought her here to protect her. To get her away from Reginald’s poison. But every day she was here, her quiet strength and those curves made it harder to remember why I needed to stay away.

I downed the rest of the drink and closed the laptop. I had to keep control. For both our sakes.

But deep down, I knew the cracks were getting bigger.

And one day soon, the ice was going to break completely.