CHAPTER 31: A DELIGHTFUL SURPRISE

Lucian’s POV

​I stood outside my mother's private bedchamber, smoothing down the front of my tailored coat as I let out a long, quiet breath. The morning sun was just beginning to spill through the tall arched windows, signaling the start of her birthday.

​Lifting my hand, I knocked twice on the painted wood.

​"Come in," her voice called out gently.

​I pushed the door open to find my mother sitting before her vanity, her silken robe draped around her shoulders. I walked over, stepping into her space, and leaned down to press a soft kiss against her cheek before setting a small, ribbon-tied velvet box onto her dressing table.

​"Happy birthday, Mother," I said softly.

​A radiant smile broke across her face as her fingers touched the velvet. "Oh, thank you, my son." She looked up at my reflection in the mirror, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Are you ready for tonight?"

​My chest tightened. I took a slow step back, placing my hands behind my waist to mask the sudden tension in my frame.

​"About tonight, Mother... I think you should call off the wedding announcement. We do not wish to embarrass Lady Genevieve."

​My mother's smile faded, replaced by a weary, stern sigh. She set her brush down with a soft click. "Lucian, we have spoken about this, my boy. There is no turning back now. You did not provide someone else you wished to marry, so you are marrying Lady Genevieve."

​I swallowed the hesitation in my throat, holding her gaze in the mirror. "I want to marry Eva."

​My mother went dead silent. She paused, slowly turning around in her seat to face me, her brow furrowing in utter disbelief.

​"What?" she breathed. "Eva?"

​"Yes, Mother," I replied, keeping my voice firm and resolute. "Eva. Your assigned maid."

​My mother sat back in her chair, staring at me as if searching my face for any sign of a joke. "You... you want to marry Eva?"

​"Yes, Mother," I said, a slight frown touching my brow at her reaction. "Why do you say her name with such amusement?"

​Suddenly, a bright, triumphant laugh erupted from her lips. She threw her hands up, her face lighting up with unbridled joy.

​"Look at that! I've won!" she cheered softly, shaking her head in delight. "Oh, Lucian, she is the perfect choice! She is breathtakingly beautiful, talented, well-mannered, educated, and quick-witted. She is a divine fit for either of my boys! I am so, so proud of you, Lucian!"

​I blinked, thoroughly caught off guard by her sudden outburst.

​She stood up from her vanity and stepped forward, pulling me into a warm, tight embrace. She pulled back slightly, looking up into my eyes with genuine affection. "Are you in love with her?"

​I paused, the weight of the question settling heavily in my chest. Love? I didn't know what love felt like—only the sharp, intriguing feeling and confusion she radiates.

​"I... I do not know what love is yet, Mother," I admitted quietly. "But I do fancy her."

​"Well, that is more than enough to start a marriage!" she declared happily, squeezing my hand. She immediately turned toward her ward-robe doors, her mind already spinning. "Oh, I am sending the finest seamstresses to her room immediately! I will have a grand gown fitted for her so she looks absolutely magnificent when I make the announcement tonight!"

​"Mother," I interjected, a trace of concern crossing my mind. "Wouldn't Father be furious?"

​"Leave your father to me," she scoffed lightly, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "I will handle him. As long as you are happy, my son, that is all that matters to me. Oh, I am so proud of you!"

​She pulled me into another brief hug, her laughter echoing softly in the room. "This is a truly delightful birthday gift. I love this!"

​"I will leave you to prepare, Mother," I murmured, offering her a faint, rare smile.

​As I stepped out into the corridor and closed the heavy oak door behind me, I could still hear my mother giggling softly to herself inside. I paused in the quiet hallway, a strange, lingering warmth settling in my chest.

​Who knew that a simple maid—a ghost from a ball with a fire in her eyes—was the exact person needed to make my mother this happy?

​(Eva’s POV)

​I stepped into my small room, wiping a light bead of sweat from my forehead.

​The last of the grand hall decorations were finally complete, and for the first time in weeks, my chest felt light. Helping set up the crystal chandeliers, the cascading floral arches, and tasting the sweet pastry glazes had been surprisingly fun. For a few brief hours, I had forgotten my burden, looking forward to enjoying the festive energy of the evening from the sidelines.

​Then I opened my door—and stopped dead in my tracks.

​Standing around my small cot were three elaborate seamstresses and a wash maid. Laid out across my bed was a breathtaking gown of shimmering ivory silk, surrounded by velvet cases of sparkling gold jewelry, polished slippers, and tins of fine rouge.

​"What time would you like to get ready, ma'am?" one of the seamstresses asked, bowing her head slightly.

​I looked at them, completely startled and utterly bewildered. "I... I think you have the wrong room. Lady Genevieve's chambers are further down the east wing."

​"Nonsense," the head seamstress smiled warmly, stepping forward with a measuring tape. "Lady Eleanor sent us here directly to help you prepare for the grand announcement of your betrothal to Lord Lucian tonight."

​The air instantly slammed out of my lungs.

​"What?" I gasped.

​"We must hurry, ma'am," she continued, reaching for the gown. "We do not have much time left."

​"Excuse me," I breathed, backing away in sheer terror before turning on my heel and bolting into the hallway.

​Panic and white-hot fury roared through my veins. I marched straight up the grand staircase to Lucian’s study, throwing the heavy oak doors open without bother to knock.

​"What did you do?!" I snapped, my voice shaking with rage. "You told your mother we are getting married?!"

​Lucian jumped slightly from behind his desk, his eyes widening before he quickly rounded the table and slammed the door shut behind me. "Keep your voice down!"

​"Excuse you?!" I spat, stepping directly into his space.

​"Drop the attitude, Eva," Lucian warned, his tone instantly hardening as he crossed his arms. "Do not flatter yourself into thinking I am doing this out of romantic interest. I am doing this because you are my absolute last resort. I need your help."

​I scoffed, letting out a bitter, disbelieving laugh. "You need my help? You need my help, so you went ahead and told your mother we are getting married before you even had the decency to ask me?!"

​"It is a contract marriage," Lucian explained coldly, leaning back against his desk. "A temporary deal. We stay married just long enough to satisfy my mother's demands, and then we quietly divorce and go our separate ways. You just have to pretend—and we both know pretending is what you do best."

​"What makes you think I would ever help you?" I shook my head, my eyes burning with raw defiance. "I do not want to marry you, Lucian! I do not want to be known as the disgraced, divorced wife of Lucian De Witt! I want nothing to do with you!"

​Lucian’s jaw tightened. The faint softness he had shown in the stables was entirely gone, replaced by the ruthless, calculating heir of Valenridge.

​"You do not have a choice," he said smoothly, his voice dropping into a dangerous thread. "If you refuse to agree to this, I will walk straight to my father and tell him everything. How you snuck into the Sterling ball. How you stole the original papers to the land ledgers. You will not just be thrown out, Eva—you will go to prison for theft and treason."

​I froze. The blood drained completely from my face as I stared at him, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs.

​"How low can you possibly be?" I whispered, tears of helpless rage stinging the back of my eyes. "To use that against me?"

​"When you are out of options, you use every card at your disposal," Lucian replied coldly, unbothered by my tears.

​"Why would you do this to me?!" I cried out quietly, clutching my chest. "I do not want to be married! I am far too young for this!"

​Lucian sneered softly, looking down at me with an icy, detachment. "Oh, please, spare me the drama. I would rather marry almost anyone else than tie myself to you, but you are my only viable option. So deal with it."

​"You are a monster," I hissed.

​Without waiting for another word, I turned and fled the study, slamming the door shut.

​I ran back to my room, collapsing onto the edge of my bed as the seamstresses swarmed around me like silent vultures. Everything was spiraling out of control. Getting forced into a legal marriage with the arrogant future Duke was never part of my revenge. My world was falling apart—and the night had barely even begun.