Aeliana froze mid-sip, her amber eyes flicking up to Luca over the rim of the mug. He was leaning back on his hands, his smirk as infuriatingly persistent as ever, though there was a spark of curiosity in his dark eyes.
“Now,” he said again, his tone casual but pointed. “When are you going to tell me your name?”
She lowered the mug slowly, her fingers tightening around the warm ceramic as she studied him warily. “Why does it matter?” she asked, her voice defensive.
“Well,” Luca began, his smirk widening, “you already know my name—Luca—and judging by the fact that you’ve been watching me all this time, you probably know a lot more about me than that.” He tilted his head, his gaze sharp and knowing. “Meanwhile, I don’t even know your name.”
Aeliana stiffened, her grip on the mug tightening. “I wasn’t watching you,” she muttered, though the heat creeping up her neck betrayed her embarrassment.
“Oh, right,” Luca drawled, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “You just happened to be looking my way from that ship. Coincidence, I’m sure.”
She shot him a glare, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“But,” he continued, leaning forward slightly, his tone softening just a fraction, “if we’re going to be stuck in this place together, it only makes sense for me to know your name, doesn’t it?”
Aeliana looked away, her gaze dropping to the mug in her hands. The firelight flickered across her features, highlighting the tension in her expression.
“I don’t see why it’s necessary,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.
Luca raised an eyebrow, leaning back again with a dramatic sigh. “Necessary? Come on, it’s just a name. What’s the worst that could happen? I promise I won’t bite.”
Her eyes flicked back to him, narrowing slightly. “You’re annoying.”
“Maybe,” he agreed easily, flashing her a grin. “But I’m not wrong.”
Aeliana exhaled sharply, her fingers brushing against the edge of her veil as she weighed her options. Part of her wanted to keep that distance, to hold onto the barrier that had always protected her. But another part of her—the part that felt strangely disarmed by his unwavering presence—found itself wavering.
Finally, she spoke, her voice low but steady.
“Aeliana,” she said, her amber eyes meeting his.
Luca’s smirk softened slightly, his expression thoughtful as he repeated the name. “Aeliana,” he said, almost as if testing the way it felt on his tongue. “It suits you.”
Her cheeks flushed faintly, and she quickly looked away, her voice sharp as she muttered, “Don’t read too much into it.”
“Too late,” Luca replied, his grin returning.
She glared at him again, but this time there was less venom in her gaze. As much as she hated to admit it, there was a strange relief in hearing him say her name—like a piece of herself had been acknowledged without judgment.
Luca stretched his legs out in front of him, his dark eyes flicking back to the fire. “Well, Aeliana,” he said casually. “You share the same name as the Duke Thaddeus’ daughter.”
Luca’s dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Well, Aeliana,” he said, his voice light but pointed, “you share the same name as the Duke Thaddeus’ daughter.”
The moment the words left his mouth, Aeliana stiffened, her fingers tightening around the mug. The reaction was subtle but unmistakable, and Luca’s gaze sharpened.
He tilted his head slightly, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “My duchess?”
Her amber eyes darted to him, wide and startled, before she quickly lowered her gaze. “Don’t call me that,” she said softly, her voice edged with a bitterness she couldn’t fully hide. “I’m not a duchess or anything.”
Luca raised a brow, his expression curious but unassuming. “Why not?”
“Why?” Aeliana repeated, her tone sharper as she clutched the mug closer to her chest. “Because I’m useless.”
The word hung in the air, heavy and sharp. Luca’s smirk faded slightly, his expression shifting into something quieter, more thoughtful.
“Useless,” he echoed, the word rolling off his tongue as if testing its weight. “That’s… an interesting choice of words.”
Aeliana’s chest tightened as memories surfaced unbidden, pulling her into a storm of thoughts she had tried so hard to bury.
She remembered the sneer on Madeleina’s face, the cruel words dripping with disdain as she stood above her. “You’re not fit to lead anyone. Just stay out of the way—you’re only dragging everyone down.”
The memory twisted further, shifting to her father’s stern, weary gaze as he spoke in measured tones about her engagement. “It’s necessary for the family, Aeliana. We cannot continue like this.”
She knew what he truly meant. It wasn’t just about alliances or duty. Her illness, her weakness—it was a weight he could no longer carry.
Aeliana’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the mug, her thoughts spiraling. I’m not just useless. I’m a liability. Because of me, he can’t move forward. Because of me, the family is stuck in limbo.
Her nails dug into the ceramic, the heat of the tea barely registering against the cold ache settling in her chest.
Luca’s voice pulled her from the depths of her mind. “You really believe that?” he asked, his tone softer now, almost gentle.
She glanced up at him, startled by the shift in his expression. His smirk was gone, replaced by a look that was both serious and searching.
“It’s not about believing,” she said bitterly, her voice low. “It’s the truth.”
Luca leaned back, his dark eyes drifting toward the cavern’s jagged ceiling. His expression shifted into something thoughtful, the smirk softening into a faint curve that seemed more contemplative than amused.
“What do we mean by the word ‘useful’?” he said aloud, his voice quiet but deliberate, as if he were speaking both to Aeliana and to himself.
Aeliana blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone.
“Does being useful mean helping people?” Luca continued, his gaze tracing the flickering shadows cast by the firelight. “Or is it about achieving ambitions—tools we ‘use’ along the way to get what we want?”
His words hung in the air, weaving into the quiet of the cavern. He glanced at her briefly, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he looked back to the fire.
“If that’s what defines being useful,” he said slowly, “then does it mean your life exists only to serve someone else’s ambitions? To be a stepping stone for their goals?” He shook his head slightly, his voice tinged with a faint sadness. “Isn’t that such a tragic way to live?”
The question lingered in Aeliana’s mind, his words striking chords she had never dared to touch. What does it mean to be useful? she thought, her fingers trembling slightly against the ceramic mug.
Her whole life had been built on the idea of utility—serving her family, protecting their legacy, living up to their expectations. She had never questioned it before, never stopped to consider if there could be more.
Luca’s voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts, his tone still calm but tinged with quiet intensity. “Sure,” he said, “we all have responsibilities. Some people enjoy privileges that others don’t, and with privilege comes a price. That’s just how life works.”
He paused, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “For instance, you. As the daughter of a duke, you must’ve had access to things most people could only dream of—resources, education, security.”
Aeliana stiffened, her jaw tightening as she braced herself for the inevitable judgment she had heard so many times before.
“But,” Luca continued, his voice steady, “at the same time, didn’t you pay the price for it? By getting this illness?”
Her eyes widened slightly, the question catching her off guard.
“In this sense,” Luca said, his gaze locking onto hers, “do you not deserve to live? To exist for more than just being ‘useful’ to someone else? Haven’t you already paid enough?”
The mug in her hands felt heavier somehow, the warmth of the tea no longer reaching her as his words sank in.
Deserve to live. The idea was foreign, almost incomprehensible to her. Her whole life had been a series of exchanges—a cycle of privilege and burden, obligation and sacrifice. She had never once stopped to think about what she deserved.
“I…” she started, her voice faltering as the words caught in her throat.
Luca leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied her carefully. “It’s not about whether you’ve been useful to someone else, Aeliana,” he said, his tone softer now, almost gentle. “It’s about whether you’ve been fair to yourself.”
Her chest tightened, her amber eyes dropping to the fire as she struggled to process what he was saying.
Fair to herself? When had that ever been an option?
“You don’t have to answer now,” Luca added, his smirk returning faintly as he leaned back. “But just think about it. Being useful is overrated anyway.”
Hearing his words she questioned.
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But at the same time, she felt something.
A feeling that she knew she was not supposed to feel.
‘What do you know?’