Chapter 8
"He's asleep, sir," Lydia whispered, stepping away from the bed. "He was entirely exhausted. The adrenaline wore off the moment his head hit the pillow."
Julian stood up slowly, the tension returning to his broad shoulders. He walked over to Lydia, stopping just a few feet away. His cold, perceptive eyes searched her softly oval face.
"How long have you suspected she was dangerous?" Julian asked, his deep voice a low rumble in the quiet nursery.
"I never suspected she would try to kill him, sir," Lydia answered, her voice barely a whisper. "But she was always cold to him when you weren't looking. She would send him away, tell him he was a bother. When I heard her tell the kitchen staff she was handling the cake personally... I just felt something was wrong. But when she said that to him tonight... the sheer terror in his eyes confirmed how truly evil she was."
"Did you consider the danger you were putting yourself in by crossing her in front of the entire commission?" Julian asked, the extremely short stubble on his jaw catching the lamplight.
"I only considered that he was about to die," Lydia said, her expressive brows drawing together. "I couldn't walk away from that."
"Do you realize you are the only reason my son is breathing tonight?" Julian asked, his gaze intensifying, a dark, terrifying warmth bleeding into his cold eyes.
"I just did what anyone should have done," Lydia breathed, her heart fluttering wildly at his proximity.
"Have you met many people in my world who do what they should, Lydia?" Julian inquired. He reached out, his refined, tattooed hand hovering for a fraction of a second before he gently tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear.
The touch sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core. Lydia swallowed hard, looking up at his angular face. The danger surrounding them was absolute, but the safety she felt in his presence was undeniable.
Before Julian could offer another question, the heavy, encrypted radio clipped to his belt crackled to life with sudden, violent static.
"Boss?" Marcus's gruff voice called out over the comms. "We have a major situation at the front gates."
Julian did not flinch. He slowly pulled his hand away from Lydia’s face, his posture instantly shifting back into that of a wartime commander.
"Are the Shaw convoys already here, Marcus?" Julian asked into the radio.
"Yes, sir," Marcus reported, his voice tight with tension. "It's Victor Shaw himself. He has thirty heavily armed men with him. He is demanding you hand over his daughter immediately, or they breach the walls."
Lydia gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. The war had arrived faster than anyone anticipated.
"Will you wait here and lock the door behind me?" Julian asked, looking back at Lydia.
"You can't go down there!" Lydia pleaded in a harsh whisper. "They will kill you!"
"Do you think an army of cowards can break a fortress built by kings?" Julian asked softly, turning toward the heavy oak door.
"Will you come back?" Lydia asked, her voice cracking with sudden, overwhelming emotion.
May you like
Julian paused with his hand on the doorknob. He looked back at the beautiful housemaid guarding his sleeping son.
"Have I ever failed to protect what belongs to me?" Julian asked, before slipping out into the hallway and walking toward the war.
