[BL] The Darling Villain

Chapter 58. Dance, For Yourself

Author's Note:

I'm such a piece of trash lol

I CAN'T BELIEVE I WENT ON HIATUS FOR OVER TWO WEEKS WITHOUT NOTIFYING YOU GUYS! But I'm back 🤗 Enjoy the new chapter that I came up with on a whim— okay, it was not on a whim. I have been planning this chapter for a long time, but never felt the motivation to write it out. Heck, this is the rough draft.

Enjoy!

The information gained at the Royal Library was abundant.

Lucilline and his group left after the departure of Percival, still concerned at his earlier antic. What was that...? A nosebleed? Could it be that Percival hasn't been in good health? The black-haired nobleman couldn't help but worry over the past matter.

Meanwhile, Farrah shook her head blatantly. She could immediately read Lucilline's thoughts. It is not what you think it is.

*****

Heels clicked across the red mattress.

Scarletta couldn't help but pace around nervously. Ever since Lucilline came back with an invitation letter, she had torn it apart and read it. It is from the Delta House! THE DELTA HOUSE!!! Scarletta's eyes almost bulged out from her sockets, THEY ALMOST NEVER SEND OUT INVITATIONS!

She clutched her chest, a fist curling with the knuckles whitening.

Zephyratt merely clicked his tongue while watching his elder sister go on a frenzy. "This must be one of Duke Delta's crazy schemes... That man never ever interacts with anyone outside the Delta House. A celebration? A birthday banquet, my ass."

The two siblings couldn't help fretting over the invitation.

Even more alarming....

"Duke Delta and our father used to be the best of friends!" Scarletta tugged at her hair, almost tearing her scalp off. "However, our father is still sick in bed! Even if he is slowly recovering, he won't be able to leave the house! If our father doesn't go to the banquet, then that would be the worst scandal to hear!"

Zephyratt pressed his temples, about to faint.

Meanwhile... watching both of them, Lucilline sat in the background with a porcelain tea cup rested in the slender palm of his hands. He sipped from the tea, feeling the liquid warm his throat.

"...there is still a week until the banquet," Lucilline's lips curved upwards gently. "There is no need to rush preparations."

By his side, Farrah reluctantly stirred her cup of tea. She watched how the tea leaves sunk to the bottom of the cup, dissipating like fire into ash. It reminded her of her kin—the demons, and how they leave no traces behind after death; only a pile of ashes.

Augustine stood straight, his back like a pillar to lean on. Seeing that the black-haired nobleman's cup became empty, Augustine poured more inside the porcelain material.

Lucilline rowed the tea in his cup, watching ripples flutter past the viscous liquid.

His pair of golden eyes reflected in the surface. They were like droplets of evening dew, washed upon leafy greens and glistening in the moonlight's glum.

"What are your plans, Young Master?" Willow questioned, her face containing innocence.

Lucilline's lips pressed in a thin line, gently brushing past the cup's hem. "Well, it's not finalized yet, but I do have a few ideas in mind."