chamber. Anya, dismissed early from the boisterous celebrations, sat perched on the edge of the grand four-poster bed, her heart pounding like a trapped bird. A maid, assigned by the Qu

ected, but it certainly wasn't this. Lucian, sensing her fear, gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Anya," he said softly. "I won't hurt you." He stepped closer, reaching out to cup her cheek in his hand. Anya flinched involuntarily, her body betraying her fear. Lucian's hand stilled, his expression hardening. "Anya," he said, his voice firm but gentle, "look at me." Anya hesitantly met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. She saw a flicker of something in his eyes, a mix of frustration and... understanding? "I won't force you to do anything you're not ready for," Lucian said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I need you to trust me." He lowered his hand, stepping back to give her space. "Undress yourself," he instructed, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I'll turn around." Anya, still trembling, slowly began to unfasten her gown, her fingers fumbling with the intricate buttons. Lucian turned away, his broad back a reassuring presence in the dimly lit room. Once she was clad only in her thin chemise, Anya felt a fresh wave of panic wash over her. She couldn't do this. She wasn't ready. Lucian, sensing her hesitation, spoke without turning around. "Anya, there's something you need to know." He turned back to face her, his expression serious. He walked towards a small table by the bed and picked up a vial filled with a dark red liquid. "This," he said, holding up the vial, "is dragon's blood. A few drops, mixed with... other fluids, will be enough to convince the Queen's physician that we have... consummated our marriage." Anya stared at him, bewildered. "But... why?" Lucian sighed. "Because I won't force you, Anya. Not tonight, not ever. But I also won't risk your safety, or mine, by defying my parents." He handed her the vial, his eyes filled with a mixture of