Adrian's POV
Adrian lies in bed watching the light fade from his windows.
He has not moved since this morning. Just stayed curled under the covers like he can hide from the newspapers, from his father's silence, from the fact that he ruined everything before his marriage even officially started.
The binding magic under his skin keeps spasming. His heart keeps stuttering. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees the cathedral floor. Sees the crowd watching him collapse. Sees the broadcast mirrors recording his humiliation for thousands of people.
He thinks about staying in this bed forever. About never having to face anyone again.
The door opens suddenly.
Adrian flinches, expecting a servant. Instead Lucien walks in and the air in the room changes. Everything goes sharper. Colder. More real.
Lucien's expression is hard. His silver eyes scan Adrian in the bed like he is measuring a liability. Adrian shrinks into his pillows, waiting for anger or disgust or whatever his husband came here to deliver.
"We have a treaty dinner in one hour," Lucien says flatly. No greeting. No sympathy. Just a statement.
"You will attend."
Adrian shakes his head slowly. "I cannot face them."
Lucien's silver eyes go completely still. Completely ice.
"You can," he says. "You will."
He walks to the bed and pulls the covers back with one harsh movement. Adrian is left exposed in his sleeping clothes, vulnerable and cold. Lucien does not seem to care. He stands there looking at Adrian with an expression that should feel cruel but somehow does not.
"They think you are weak," Lucien continues, his voice hard as stone. "Right now, as we speak, every noble in this palace is deciding whether you are worth keeping alive. Whether the treaty is worth anything. Whether you deserve to be prince at all."
Adrian feels his chest tighten.
"You have two choices," Lucien says. "You can stay in this bed and prove them right. Prove them correct about every whisper they have ever made about your fragility. Let them drown you in their contempt for the rest of your life."
Lucien steps closer.
"Or you can stand up and walk into that dining hall on my arm and show them something different. You can prove that yesterday was not the end of you. That you are more than your weak heart and your fear."
Adrian stares at him. He has never heard anyone talk to him like this. Not with anger exactly, but with something sharper. Something that sounds almost like expectation. Like Lucien believes Adrian might actually be capable of something.
Like Adrian's choice matters.
"I will not carry you through this marriage," Lucien says, his voice steady. "But I will stand beside you if you stand up. Just that. Just beside you."
Adrian's throat closes. He thinks about standing. Thinks about walking through palace halls where everyone knows what happened yesterday. Thinks about facing the dining hall full of nobles already convinced he is a disaster.
It feels impossible.
But Lucien's silver eyes are still on him and there is something in that gaze that does not look like contempt. There is something that looks almost like respect. Like Lucien is waiting to see who Adrian actually is underneath all the fear.
Adrian takes a shaky breath.
His legs are weak from a day in bed. His heart is still stuttering from the incomplete binding magic. Every part of him wants to stay under these covers and hide until this all goes away.
He throws off the blankets anyway.
The cold hits him immediately and he shivers, but he sits up. Lucien watches without moving to help him. This is Adrian's choice. Adrian's effort. Adrian's moment to prove something.
Adrian's feet touch the cold floor and he stands on legs that feel like water.
He staggers slightly and Lucien's hand shoots out to steady him, but he lets Adrian find his own balance before pulling away. Lucien does not make Adrian feel broken. Just challenged.
"The formal dining clothes are in your wardrobe," Lucien says, moving toward the door. "Your hair should be styled. You will wear the Solmere crest so there is no question about your loyalty."
Adrian nods. He is still shaking but he is standing.
"The meal will be brutal," Lucien continues. "People will watch for weakness. They will make comments designed to hurt you. Some will test whether this marriage is real or just politics."
Lucien pauses at the wardrobe and looks back at Adrian.
"When they do, you will not hide. You will not apologize for your body or your illness. You will sit beside me and you will act like you belong there."
Adrian wants to ask how. Wants to ask what he should say or do. Wants someone to tell him how to survive this.
Instead he just nods again.
Lucien nods back like something has been decided between them. Like they have reached some kind of agreement that does not need words.
"One hour," Lucien says and moves toward the door.
Adrian watches him walk away and suddenly the fear spikes again. The thought of facing all those eyes and all that judgment and all that certainty that he is weak feels like drowning.
He says it before he can stop himself.
"Wait."
Lucien turns at the door.
Adrian's voice comes out small and scared but he keeps speaking anyway. "I do not know how to do this. I do not know how to face them."
Lucien comes back and stands in front of Adrian. Their eyes are at almost the same level now that Adrian is standing, though Lucien is still taller.
"You stand," Lucien says simply. "You breathe. You remember that you survived the worst moment of your life and you are still here."
He reaches out and touches Adrian's shoulder. Just for a moment. Just enough to ground him.
"You are stronger than you think you are," Lucien says. "I saw it in the cathedral yesterday when you chose to stand up instead of hide. I see it right now with you getting out of this bed."
Adrian feels something shift inside him. Something small but real.
"Come find me when you are ready," Lucien says. "Do not be late."
He leaves and Adrian stands alone in his chamber, shaking and terrified but also standing.
Adrian moves toward his wardrobe on unsteady legs. He pulls out the formal dinner clothes. Dark blue jacket with the Solmere crest embroidered in gold. Formal trousers. Everything he needs to look like a prince instead of a broken boy hiding in bed.
As he dresses, Adrian catches his reflection in the mirror. He looks like something that has been put back together badly. His hair is messy. His face is pale from a day indoors. His hands shake as he tries to fasten buttons.
But he is standing.
He is getting dressed.
He is going to walk into that dining hall and face everyone who expects him to fail.
Adrian forces himself to be still for a moment. Forces his breathing to slow. The binding magic under his skin is still there, still incomplete, but it feels less angry now. Like it is waiting for something. Like maybe it can sense that Adrian is finally moving forward instead of drowning.
He finishes dressing and runs his fingers through his hair to try to make it less chaotic. It does not help much but it is better.
Adrian opens his chamber door and steps into the hallway.
Servants passing by stop and stare. They see him actually standing, actually dressed, actually moving. He watches their expressions shift from pity to surprise to something that might be respect.
He makes his way through the palace halls toward Lucien's chambers where they agreed to meet.
His legs still shake. His heart still stutters. He is still terrified.
But he is moving.
When he reaches Lucien's door, Adrian raises his hand and knocks.
Lucien opens it immediately, like he was waiting right there on the other side. He looks Adrian over carefully. Takes in the formal clothes, the attempt at composure, the way Adrian is still standing despite everything.
"Help me get dressed," Adrian whispers.
Not asks. Does not beg. Just states it simply like he knows Lucien will say yes.
And Lucien's expression shifts into something that looks almost like pride.
"Come inside," Lucien says, stepping back to let Adrian pass through the door. "We will face them together."