It wasn’t the tribunal that broke him. It was watching her walk past like he didn’t exist.
Lucan hadn’t truly slept in three nights. He closed his eyes, but his mind replayed the same image on a loop: Celeste standing in court, poised and unreadable.
Her voice is steady. Her eyes never once looked his way.
When she said, “Verified by the Presidential Archives,” something inside him cracked. And the sound hadn’t stopped echoing since.
He tried to function. Ate half of a breakfast. Read half a headline. Started conversations he couldn’t finish. But she was everywhere—on news panels, on political blogs, in viral clips with millions of views.
There were headlines like “How Celeste Halden Redefined Silence.”
Talk shows guessed what she’d wear next. He couldn’t escape her. Worse—he didn’t want to.
Marion stormed into his office, a newspaper in hand.
“She’s hijacked the public,” she snapped, slapping it down on his desk. “You realize that, don’t you? She doesn’t even need to speak anymore. She’s already won.”
Lucan stared at the photo. Celeste, in black silk, stepping out of a limousine like it was a battlefield.
Marion pointed. “If you don’t act now, we’re all finished.”
Lucan barely looked up. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“Then make her,” Marion snapped. “Grovel. Bleed if you have to. But you will bring her back.”
“She’s not mine anymore,” he said quietly. “Maybe she never was.”
Marion’s voice dropped to a warning growl. “Then fix it. Or you lose more than just your pride.”
He found her the next day at a foreign policy conference. The building was full of diplomats, soft carpets, and idle cameras. He caught sight of her in the corridor by the fountains, walking alone.
She wore navy again. The same shade she wore in court. The shade she knew rattled him. Her hair was pinned back. Her posture: perfect. Calm. Untouchable.
“Talia,” he called but she didn’t stop. “Talia— Celeste, please.”
She kept walking until he reached out and gently took her wrist. It wasn’t forceful—but it made her stop. She turned slowly with a blank expression on her face.
“I didn’t know,” Lucan said, his breath short. “I swear to God, I didn’t know who you were.”
Her voice was cold. “No, Lucan. You didn’t care.”
“I was stupid. I thought status meant strength. I thought protecting the name was enough.”
“You were wrong,” she replied. “And it cost me everything.”
“You walked away.”
“No.” Her gaze never wavered. “You gave me away.”
The words hit harder than any slap. She hadn’t raised her voice. She hadn’t cried and that made it worse.
Lucan stood frozen. “I didn’t think they’d actually go through with it. I didn’t know they’d erase you.”
“They didn’t erase me,” she said. “They tried. You watched.”
“I was trying to hold the family together. To keep the peace.”
“You kept peace by letting them destroy me,” she snapped. “You kept quiet. That’s not peace. That’s cowardice.”
Lucan flinched. “I never stopped loving you. Even when you left.”
She blinked once. “Then you should’ve loved me loud enough to stop them.”
“I didn’t know how.”
“Then that’s your legacy,” she said. “Not mine.”
He tried to meet her eyes, but shame pulled him down.
“Do you feel anything for me now?” he asked. “Anything at all?”
“Pity,” she said. “Occasionally.”
He exhaled like he’d been punched.
“And even that’s fading.”
A junior diplomat passed them, pausing as he recognized her. Celeste gave him a nod, then turned back to Lucan.
“Do you want me to apologize?” he asked. “Publicly?”
“I don’t want your guilt,” she replied. “I want your silence. It suits you better than your speeches ever did.”
He reached for her hand again and she simply stepped back.
“I don’t hate you,” she said. “I don’t have the energy for that. But I also don’t want you in my life.”
Lucan’s voice cracked. “Is that final?”
“It was final,” she said, “the day you stood at a podium and introduced your mistress while I was still wearing your ring.”
Lucan opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
She looked at him long and steady. “No, Lucan. You thought you were doing the easy thing.”
He lowered his head as she turned to leave. “Wait,” he said. “One last thing.”
She stopped. “What?”
“Do you ever miss me?”
She didn’t even blink. “Only when I forget why I left.”