The countryside air was different. Less pressure, less politics and more wind through old trees, distant rooster calls, and the rustle of leaves that still sounded like home.
Allison hadn't been back in nearly a year.
The path to the house was still uneven, a little cracked at the sides, and lined with overgrown hibiscus as he drove . The wooden gate swung open easily when Lucian pushed it, holding it wide for her like a gentleman — one who looked wholly out of place in a designer coat and polished shoes.
"Are you sure you don't want me to wait in the car?" he murmured.
She gave him a side-glance. "If you wait in the car, they'll think I made you up."
He smiled faintly. "Then let's make an impression."
Inside, the little house was warm and bustling. Her foster father, Mr. Feng, was already calling from the kitchen.
"Allison? Is that you? The noodles are almost...." He paused when he saw Lucian step in behind her and blinked.
Then blinked again.
"You didn't tell me your… friend was a man."
Allison coughed. "Dad, this is Lucian."
Mr. Feng stared at him, then at Allison. "Lu… wait… the Lucian on t.v and newspapers?"
She nodded. "We're engaged."
There was a beat of silence.
"Come in. Don't just stand there like a golden lamp post."
Lucian smiled and gave a polite bow. "Thank you for having me, sir."
Allison relaxed slightly.
From the hallway, Mrs. Feng appeared — the second wife of old Feng , pretty in a faded sort of way, with perfect hair and a warm expression that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"My Allison," she said, voice lilting. "You look… radiant but you look a bit pale"
"Thank you, Aunty," Allison replied, bowing slightly.
Her foster mother tilted her head. "That's a big ring. Very sparkly. I imagine it was… expensive."
Lucian, still holding Allison's coat, responded calmly, "It's not half as valuable as the hand wearing it."
Allison's cheeks went warm.
Mrs. Feng's smile tightened ever so slightly.
"I see," she said. "Must be nice having… everything."
Mr. Feng didn't notice. He was already pouring tea and telling Lucian stories about Allison chasing chickens as a child which Lucian laughed to. But Allison noticed. She noticed the way her foster stepmother kept watching her not in awe, but in calculation.
And when her stepsister called briefly from the city to say she was still "too busy" to come home, the silence afterward was telling.
"You know Marin works hard too," Mrs. Feng said sweetly. "She just hasn't been lucky in love yet. City men can be… hard to keep."
Allison smiled politely. "I'm sure she'll find someone."
Mrs. Feng turned to Lucian. "She says it like it's easy. But you wouldn't know anything about being difficult, would you?"
Lucian merely took Allison's hand in his. "I do, actually. Allison is very difficult. She makes me beg."
Allison gasped, swatting his arm.
Mr. Feng nearly choked on his tea. "Young man. You don't say such things in front of old people"
Mrs. Feng's smile cracked completely. She would like ths man for her daughter, she had heard a lot about him but she hasn't heard of him being playful. She looked at Allison with envious eyes.
Allison stood quietly by the wooden rail, watching the moonlight pool over the worn courtyard tiles. Her hand rested lightly on her abdomen not from pain but instinct. Behind her, Lucian joined her, wrapping a coat around her shoulders.
"She doesn't like me" Allison murmured.
"She doesn't like herself," he replied.
"She always acted kind … but now…" Allison trailed off.
"She sees you winning. It bothers her."
Allison turned her face to him. "I don't even know what I'm winning at."
He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Love, peace and power — whether you know it or not."
There was silence between them, thick and soft like wool.
Then he kissed her temple and asked gently, "Do you feel alright?"
She hesitated. "I… think so."
"No headaches today?"
"No."
"No nausea?"
She paused longer. "Maybe. A little."
He watched her carefully.
Then, instead of pressing, he pulled her closer.
"You'll tell me if you're not okay, okay?"
She nodded.
The night deepened in shades of indigo and charcoal, stars scattered like forgotten silver over the countryside sky. Inside the Feng household, the sounds of dishes clinking and the television humming in the background faded into a kind of cozy domestic haze.
But Allison couldn't sleep.
She lay curled on the old cot in her childhood room, the one with faded posters, a desk with scribbled notes still tucked in the drawers, and a creaky window that overlooked the backyard where she used to pretend the world was magic.
Now the magic was real.
Now it breathed through her skin.
She touched her abdomen again. It was subtle, not even a flutter, just a warm echo that didn't feel like hers alone. She wasn't even sure what it meant. Was it her power growing? Or was it something else?
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in" she whispered.
Lucian stepped in, still in his shirt but without his jacket, his sleeves rolled, revealing strong forearms and a tired grace. "I heard you moving."
Allison sat up, brushing hair from her face. "Did I wake you?"
"No. I couldn't sleep either." He closed the door behind him. "Your bed still squeaks."
She gave a soft laugh. "I think it's the same mattress from when I was twelve."
Lucian sat beside her, not touching, just close. The moonlight streamed in across the floor, pooling around them.
"You were incredible today" he said quietly.
"Was I?"
"You were poised. Kind and gracious, even when she poked."
"She's family."
"Family doesn't always mean safe."
Allison sighed, hugging her knees. "Papa means well. He doesn't see how she looks at me."
"Because he chooses not to."
"Because he loves her," Allison replied, softer now. "And I… I don't want to ruin that. He was the one who took me in."
Lucian reached over then, brushing his thumb lightly against her jaw. "You still carry too many people on your back."
Her voice wavered. "Maybe that's what love is."
He said. "Love is also when someone chooses to carry you too."
His hand dropped, but her skin still burned where he touched. She looked up at him. "Lucian… do you ever regret it?"
"Regret what?"
"Coming into my life."
His expression darkened for a second with intensity. "If I could live a thousand years more, Allison, I would regret every year I didn't know you."
She inhaled, heart caught in her throat.
"I would regret the centuries I spent thinking duty was everything," he continued. "Power, war, survival. Until you came into my life and reminded me that peace can be just as sacred."
She leaned into him then, resting her head against his shoulder. His arm came around her naturally.
"I don't know what's happening to me," she murmured.
She closed her eyes. Lucian was silent for a long moment.
"Allison."
"Hmm?"
And in that stillness, they kissed passionately.