The setting sun shrouded the Rocheforts' majestic garden with hues of crimson and magenta, bathing the flowers in its final warm light.
Despite the breathtaking view, Lucian's attention had been captured by another sight. He caught her sneaking into the garden with her back facing him.The sun's rays caressed her midnight blue hair, giving it a violet sheen.
Every time Lady Celine returned for the holidays, it was a happy occasion, a chance for Lucian and her to meet and reconnect.
Everything he had done was with the goal of being with her. He had worked himself to the bone, tirelessly, doing everything in his power to rise above his humble beginnings, all for her.
She had taught him how to read, and he studied during the night until his eyes hurt. In order to learn how to wield a weapon, he would sneak into the guard's barracks.
His parents had passed away when he was seven, leaving him orphaned, alone, and starving. Growing up in the streets, he would sell flowers and whatever else he could get his hands on.
Then, he met her, a little girl who had dropped a pile of drawings before him. The daughter of the most powerful man in the duchy had her allowance taken away, and wouldn't get it back unless she learned the vocabulary of the foreign language she had been studying.
At the tender age of eight, Celine Rochefort had managed to convince Lucian to sell her art, telling him he'd be a fool to turn down the opportunity of selling a painting made by a Rochefort.
He had nothing to lose, and the paintings ended up fetching them a pretty penny. Unfortunately, the duke found out about her scheme and her first stream of income was cut off. Her schedule became even more packed, from the moment she woke up until the time she went to sleep.
Lucian was quite busy too, trying to make a name for himself as the best gardener among the higher class. Eventually, the duke's estate was added to the list of places he had tended to. And it was there that he had been reunited with Celine.
He had seen her a few times while he worked in the garden, and his heart had leaped every time he had spotted her. She had matured since their last encounter, and had developed an attitude that was very becoming of her.
"My Lady," he called out, finally stepping out from behind a large bush of flowers. As she turned toward his voice, he pleaded with his heart to calm down. He was sure that if she noticed what she was doing to him by doing absolutely nothing, she would try to stop it from beating altogether.
"My dear─" she paused, her smile a bit taunting , "─Gardener."
"It's...it's been a long time," he said, throwing her jab over his shoulder. He craved a sweet reunion, not a mood-spoiling one. She knew exactly what those words did to him. As if he could ever forget about the gap in their standing.
"Has it?" She stretched her neck to meet his gaze. "How come I haven't noticed?"
"..." This young lady, he swore... whatever. He missed her way too much and wanted nothing but to pull her into his arms, but he resisted. His dirty clothes and the sweat clinging to his body made him feel too unworthy of her touch. "How are your studies going?" he asked instead, "You haven't burned down the academy yet, I hope."
She shook her head with laughter. "Not yet, though I'm quite tempted."
He grinned, her laughter making him feel a little bashful. He tucked his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, "Well, if you ever need any help burning down buildings, I'm your man."
"Thank you, but I'd rather not get involved with more criminals." She took it more seriously than he wanted, her smile fading, "People like you are better suited to work in the gardens, grow the flowers, and make the world a more beautiful place." Her fingers found a rose bud, playing with it, "You have a talent for bringing life to things, even the most hopeless of causes, after all."
Lucian balled his fist behind his back, his smile wavering, "The world is a beautiful place, but sometimes, it needs a bit of trimming. I would gladly get my hands dirty for you."
"Instead of getting your hands dirty," she said, flicking the rose with her pointer, "I believe you should focus more on getting them clean. If the world is such a beautiful place…why are we forced to hide in the shadows like a pair of criminals?"
He took a deep breath, the pressure in his chest building, "Once I make something of myself, we will both be able to walk freely in the sun."
She laughed at his words, "You really believe that? That love can overcome all?"
"No, I don't believe in love. I believe in us."
She wrapped her arms around his torso, sighing against his chest in surrender, "You are such an incurable romantic, it's infuriating."
He squeezed her tightly,, "Only with you."
She used her weight to lean against him, and they tumbled to the ground. She straddled him, their faces only inches apart, "I missed you, so much that I started to hate you for it."
"Is that why you were so mean?" he asked with a chuckle.
"No. I was mean because you didn't seem to miss me as much as I did you," she complained, "You're always smiling, like everything is perfect in the world."
"Because when you are around, everything is."
She felt his arousal through his trousers and grinned, as if his reaction gave her the much needed boost to believe his words, "Do you enjoy being beneath me, that much?"
His hands found their way under her dress, "I remember it the other way around."
"..." She pulled at his cheek, "What an insolent little rat."
He smiled, his golden eyes shining with mirth. "What do you think would happen if someone were to find us like this?" he asked, his lips hovering above hers. They never kissed in the open. Their previous encounters had been done in secret, in dark places where no one could discover them.
"They'd accuse you of defiling me, and you'd probably be hung for it."
"And what would happen to you, My Lady?"
"My reputation would be ruined," she said simply, "I'd probably have to marry some old goat who is thrice my age. It'd be a scandal, a stain on Rochefort's name."
"We don't want that, do we? Let's stop here," he said, pulling away, though his body protested. He placed his hands on her waist and gently moved her off his lap, hiding her among the tall hedges.
While he adjusted her clothes, she poked the pitched tent in his trousers, "It's a pity that I can't check if you are still a virgin. I bet you have defiled a few girls during my absence."
"I have not!" he replied indignantly, "I'm saving myself for the woman I love."
She raised an eyebrow, her gaze moving downwards to his groin, then back up to his face, "Really? Are you saying you haven't bedded any women since our last meeting?"
"No, I haven't."
"Are you sure? It's been a year," she pointed out, "I wouldn't blame you if you had found some girl to scratch your itch."
His cheeks turned a shade of pink in frustration, "I can control my urges, unlike some people," he replied, "Once I earn a respectable position, I'll make you mine. I promise. A knight, a count, even a duke. Whatever title I have to attain, I will get it. For us."
She looked away in silence, a shadow falling over her face as if doubting his words.