Lucas didn't move from his seat; he just reached for a button on the table's edge and pressed it once.
A soft chime echoed. Barely a sound at all.
A few minutes later, the door opened with a gentle knock that was mostly for courtesy. David stepped inside. He was, as always, immaculate—vest buttoned, posture straight, movements efficient without being rushed.
Lucas didn't look away from the agenda as he spoke.
"They were all let go after my designation," he said quietly. "Isabela Wright. Tom Walton. Steve Kelly."
David paused, just a beat. "Would you like them contacted?"
Lucas leaned back in his chair, thinking about the question for a moment.
"I want to know how they are doing." He paused. "I would like to continue working with them, as I might need to go to the University. They were good in their fields."
David gave a small nod, the kind that meant everything was already in motion.
"I'll provide a report by tonight," he said.
But he didn't make it to the door.
The handle turned, and Serathine entered without waiting for permission. She was followed by Trevor, whose presence carried less of her ease and more of a reluctant gravity—like someone asked to join a meeting that already began without him.
Lucas didn't rise.
Serathine took one look at the scene, Lucas seated, the agenda closed, David by the door, and exhaled as if she had walked into a half-finished puzzle.
"You're either organizing a rebellion," she said, "or your class schedule."
Lucas looked at her, unbothered. "Neither. Just a list."
Trevor's eyes shifted to the pen still between Lucas's fingers. "What kind of list?"
Lucas didn't miss a beat. "People who were by my side while Misty was still pretending to raise me. I think they might remember more than they were allowed to say."
Lucas didn't have the best excuse to find them; it was planned for David because he knew he'd report to Serathine. There was no point in mentioning previous lives or his suffering. He wanted to get the information he needed from there, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. Lucas planned to bury it in his mind and move on with this life.
Trevor raised an eyebrow but didn't push. "And you want them back?"
"If they're willing," Lucas said. "They were good. And if I end up going to university, I'd rather work with people who already know how I think."
Serathine crossed the room, pausing by the edge of the table. "You always did like efficiency."
Lucas shrugged lightly. "I don't see the point in starting from scratch when I don't have to."
Trevor gave a short nod, looking at David. "Run the checks before anything's formal. We don't know who they've stayed in touch with."
David didn't flinch. "Of course."
Lucas leaned back again, unfazed. "I'm fine with that."
Serathine smiled faintly, amused. "That might be the most reasonable thing anyone in this house has said all week."
Lucas smirked. "Give it time."
—
Dinner was quiet.
Not stiff, just quiet—the kind of silence that came from habit rather than tension. Lucas sat at the end of the table with his cutlery aligned and untouched bread on his plate. The evening playlist hummed in the background, low and unintrusive.
Across from him, Trevor poured himself a second glass of water.
He hadn't left.
Lucas glanced at him again, watching the way Trevor seemed entirely at ease—no jacket, sleeves rolled back, one leg crossed over the other like this had always been his seat.
"You're still here," Lucas said.
Trevor looked up mid-pour. "Apparently."
Serathine didn't even raise an eyebrow. She had been the one to pull him into the house in the first place.
Lucas set down his fork and gave him a look. "You do realize you can leave, right? We would be engaged, not conjoined twins."
Trevor looked entirely unbothered. He took a sip of water before answering, like he had all the time in the world.
"Tempting," he said. "But I was advised not to make my future spouse feel abandoned before the announcement."
Lucas raised a brow. "So your plan is to loiter?"
Trevor smiled. "To commit. Strategically."
"At the dinner table?"
Trevor gestured vaguely around him. "What better place to cultivate domesticity? Isn't this where most couples quietly plan each other's demise?"
Serathine exhaled slowly. "If you two are going to flirt, do it after dessert. Preferably out of earshot."
Lucas didn't miss a beat. "I'd rather commit tax fraud."
"Noted," Trevor said, entirely unfazed. "But I did bring my own toothbrush."
Lucas blinked. "You what?"
Trevor leaned back. "It's gold. Monogrammed. A gift from someone who wanted me to smile more."
"You have enemies," Lucas said.
Trevor pointed his spoon at him. "And now we have that in common."
Serathine cut in, tone flat. "Would either of you like to discuss the fact that half the palace still thinks you're too young to be this calculating?"
Lucas leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back legs with practiced ease, a small smile tugging at his mouth.
"Let them."
Trevor gave a low whistle. "That sounded disturbingly close to affection."
"It was indifference," Lucas said, still smiling.
Serathine reached for her wine. "I'm beginning to miss the days you refused to speak."
Lucas shrugged. "Well, I can go back to that."
"Don't even think about it."
Trevor glanced between them, amused. "Are we sure you're not actually related?"
Serathine didn't look at him. "Unfortunately, no. He's much worse."
Lucas gave her a look. "You invited me."
"I regret it daily." Said Serathine, smiling; she was enjoying this side of Lucas.
Trevor grinned, leaning back in his chair. "This is the healthiest conversation I've had in a month."
Lucas deadpanned, "You need new friends."
"I'm engaged. I don't get to have friends anymore," Trevor said.
"I would never expect you to stop making friends," Lucas said, casually. "Just stop trusting them."
Trevor gave him a long look. "Are you offering advice or confessing something?"
"Would it matter?"
"Not really."
Serathine set her glass down. "This is exhausting."
Lucas didn't miss a beat. "You chose this."
"I chose survival," she muttered. "Trevor came as a bonus punishment."
Trevor raised his glass slightly in Lucas's direction. "At least you're not boring."
Lucas met the gesture, faintly amused. "I try."
Before Trevor could respond, footsteps echoed at the entrance. David appeared, folder in hand, expression unreadable.
He stopped at the head of the table.
"I have the information you requested."
Lucas sat upright.
David opened the folder, flipped to the first page—