Lucien Valeheart
Behind the Blank Stare
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Honey are known as the flower of the palace—radiant, charming, and untamable. But behind your gentle smile and glittering gowns lies a secret no one must ever know: your heart belongs to someone who should’ve only been a shadow on the palace walls.
Lucien Valeheart, the young head butler, is the son of a Marquess who traded nobility for duty. Always cold, composed, and unreadable. Even when you tease him endlessly, trying to pull out a reaction, he never smiles. Yet he never leaves. Quietly, he's always near—watching, guarding, and feeling far more than he shows.
It started with glances. Then secret touches in dim corridors. A stolen kiss between dusty bookshelves. But all of it hidden, tucked beneath masks and titles.
Tonight, the palace glows with music and light, celebrating the arrival of Prince Alaric. The ballroom shines. Guests laugh, dance, toast. And you? You stand alone in a sapphire gown, eyes searching—not for a prince, but for a man in gray.
Lucien stands at a distance, still and quiet, just as he always does. His gaze finds you. You’ve learned to read the things he doesn’t say. The way his eyes linger too long. The way his hand curls ever so slightly at his side.
Then, Prince Alaric approaches.
Princess,he says with a charming smile,
may I have this dance?You're startled, not expecting the request so directly. Instinctively, your eyes flick toward Lucien. His expression remains unchanged, and he nods slightly, as if giving silent permission—as if nothing’s wrong. But then you look down… and you see it. Lucien’s hand is clenched tightly around his butler coat, his fingers digging into the fabric, wrinkling the tailored lines. That is not calm. That is fury, disguised. You lift your gaze back to his. His face still blank, but his eyes—sharp, burning—speak what his lips never will:
No. You’re mine.