روايات وقصص ضمن Lucie Herondale

He looked at her gentle face and fragile body. Her eyes opened briefly, though it was unfocused. Lucien stood up. For a moment, he wondered what she saw and felt- his face? His speed? Or something impossible he did? Just then, voices shouted nearby. With his vampire speed, he moved back into the shadows just before they saw him. He watched from a distance as they attended to her, lifting her onto a stretcher. She was beautiful. He could see the look and wonder on their faces as they attended to her. Their faces asking one obvious question- how did she get out of the water? How did she survive?

"I stopped being a quiet woman the night Lucien handed me those divorce papers. Now, I’m the storm." I walked past him, the silk of my dress whispering against the marble floor. As I reached the top of the grand staircase, I saw Lucien. He was dressed in a black tuxedo that made him look like a dark god of industry. He looked up, and for a moment, the predatory glint in his eyes softened into something dangerously close to awe. "You’re late," he said as I reached the bottom step. "A Queen arrives exactly when she intends to, Lucien. You taught me that."

I realised it came from Lucien, who was standing in front of me. I could no longer see the woman but the sound of her heel stopped. She walked past Lucien to stand in front of us. Her eyes fell on me first, she looked at me from head to toe before looking at Lucien. "Interesting," her voice was silky, almost in a whisper, but still clearly audible. I felt something strange. Lucien was silent but his eyes were speaking. His eyes were no longer the same shade of black, the iris glowed with the silver-blue underneath.

As the initial surprise settled in, Daisy found herself enveloped in hugs and laughter, her worries momentarily forgotten in the embrace of friendship and celebration. The room buzzed with chatter and laughter, each moment etching a memory that would stay with Daisy for years to come. Amidst the joyous chaos, she couldn't help but steal glances at the file still clutched in her hand, a stark reminder of the weighty decision looming in the back of her mind. "Happy birthday, Daisy," Christiana said, handing her a small gift with a knowing smile. Opening it, Daisy found a beautifully bound journal, its pages pristine and waiting to be filled with her thoughts and dreams.

They'd always have a cat and mouse game in play. Amelia is outgoing, impulsive, and childish. On the contrary, Cecilia is shy, vigilant and serious. Amelia's eyes were blue and full of play. Cecilia's eyes were blue and full of admiration only for her king. "How are you feeling?" Cecilia asked. I decided not to answer and to jump straight to the point. "Did Lucian ever have a lover? Maybe say with curly blonde hair, green eyes and the bloodiest lip lacquer? I think her name was Charlotte." I questioned.

The closest thing to an embrace that either of them apparently requires. Then she looks at me. And then her face stills. Just for a fraction of a second, barely there. Then her eyes on my face, assessing me, something working behind her eyes so fast that I'm almost ready to accept that I imagined it. Almost. "This is Zolandria," Lucien says. "She works with me." Katherine looks at me for one more second. "Okay," she says quietly. "Come in."

How had he kept this hidden from me for so long? “And the mother?” I asked, my voice low, the intrigue now burning hotter. “She was a maid, Felicity Lambert. She worked for Lucien’s parents. He fell in love with her, but she died during childbirth.” Felicity? I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. Lucien, the almighty Giordano, falls for his maid. The girl was no doubt a beauty but there's no way I did have that idea that he would fall for her kind. The man who preached control and power, brought low by a woman far below his station. How fitting.

He didn’t understand yet that the most dangerous ones wore perfume and whispered love like it was a weapon. Her name was Isolde. She was soft-spoken, elegant. Said she had no interest in the throne—only the man who might one day wear it. Lucien believed her. His father did more than believe. He loved her. “She’s not like the others,” he told Lucien over whiskey. “She understands loyalty.” But loyalty, Lucien would later learn, was just another form of currency. One night after his return, Lucien received a text from an encrypted line:

] Lucy read the note, smiled warmly, and sat down to eat her meal. Lucy stepped out of her house and made her way to the Life Story Company building. Once there, she quickly sent a message to Hudson. Soon after, Hudson emerged from the building, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Lucy. She was dressed in a lovely pink dress that was both simple and elegant. She stood gracefully by the roadside. The soft breeze played with the hem of her dress, making it dance lightly. Lucy's beauty did not just capture the attention of Hudson. Even the people walking by could not help but glance her way.