Outside Lucian's room, Ivan had his eyes closed as he adjusted the tie on his shirt. A faint blush rose to his cheeks as he let his mind wander back to the sight of Lucian's face he'd seen moments earlier.
"Oh my goodness—Young Master Lucian's face really is like an angel's, just as always..." he murmured in awe, his cheeks still tinged pink as he stroked his chin gently with two fingers.
But in an instant, his eyes snapped wide open, his expression shifting dramatically from what it had been just a moment before.
"Wait... His face...?!"
Ivan straightened up slightly on instinct, as if he'd just realized something crucial. His lips trembled a little.
"Oh my heavens—I never noticed that before."
His hand flew up to cover his mouth, his face paling slightly as he bowed his head toward the floor.
In his mind, he replayed every instance when he'd accidentally looked directly at Lucian's face—even just meeting his eyes—and how his Young Master's reaction had always been the same.
Whether it was a cushion, a pillow, or even a book flying toward him without warning. Ivan touched his cheek as if he could still feel the impact from one such pillow throw.
"Does the Young Master not realize?" he whispered doubtfully, still gazing at the floor as if the answer might appear from the tiles beneath his shoes.
"He'd usually throw a pillow at me by now..." he continued softly, his voice carrying a hint of what might have been nostalgic lament.
"But honestly, the Young Master seems a little different today..." Ivan murmured, now leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed in thought.
"Or... has he finally realized just how beautiful his own face is?" he went on in a half-admiring, half-dramatic murmur, one hand pressed to his chest like a stage actor delivering a tragic line.
"Truly, even the sunlight streaming through the windows can't compare to that face." He let out a heavy sigh.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from inside Lucian's room—a sound like a fist striking wood that made Ivan jump slightly in surprise.
"DAMN IT!!!"
Ivan jolted at the noise, but instead of panicking, he froze in place. His shoulders tensed, his gaze going completely blank—so empty he looked like a wooden doll stripped of all emotion.
His eyes were vacant, showing nothing but white with no glint of light or feeling. A gentle breeze stirred a strand of his hair.
"...Ah. Back to the default settings, I see."
He let out a quiet breath, then bowed his head with a faint smile touching his lips.
"...I should have known. Even angels can lose their temper." he murmured.
After a moment of silence, Ivan summoned his courage and opened the door. He entered the room with his body bowed low, his gaze fixed on the floor to avoid making direct eye contact with Lucian.
"Young Master—forgive me. I heard you shout. Is something the matter?"
He remained bowed, his shoulders trembling slightly. His hands were folded neatly in front of him as he waited for Lucian's response—expecting anything from a sharp rebuke to the usual flying pillow.
Lucian flinched slightly before turning his gaze toward Ivan. "Ah, no. It's nothing."
He answered in a slightly raised voice, startled by the interruption. Then he casually turned his head aside and pretended to cough lightly to hide his embarrassment.
Lucian glanced back at the bowed figure before him, raising one eyebrow as if confused by why the middle-aged man was keeping his head down for so long.
"Why are you acting like that? You look as if you're about to be sentenced to death."
Ivan maintained his position, though his legs trembled a little.
"No, Young Master." He replied quickly without once looking at his master's face.
"My life is not worth comparing to my forwardness in looking directly at your face earlier."
Ivan's voice sounded like a sinner's confession. His cheeks flushed slightly—embarrassment and a hint of pain mixing within him as he was convinced his life would soon end with a pillow hurtling toward his face.
Lucian raised an eyebrow, his forehead creasing slightly with what looked like irritation—but not from anger or annoyance. Instead, it came from pure bewilderment at what he was hearing.
"My face? Do you think I'm that ugly?" he said flatly, though his gaze was sharp.
Lucian fell silent for a moment after the words left his mouth.
"Oh..." he murmured softly, as if something had just occurred to him.
Navien—no, Lucian—suddenly remembered that his face had never been revealed in the game at all. Half of it was always hidden behind a black mask that had become his signature.
He scanned his room briefly, his eyes sweeping every corner as if searching for something. They finally settled on an empty spot in the room, and he scratched his slightly itchy cheek.
"Ivan," he called out, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty, "isn't there a mirror in here?"
"Eh?" Ivan looked surprised to hear that from Lucian, and on instinct straightened up to look at Lucian's back.
"Didn't you order me to remove all mirrors from your room?" he replied carefully, as if afraid his words might be misinterpreted. He remembered the instruction clearly.
Lucian slowly turned around, and Ivan immediately bowed low again.
"...I did that?" Lucian murmured, as if he couldn't believe it of himself.
He pressed a hand to his head and let out a quiet breath, wondering just how terrible Lucian's face must be behind the mask for him to have done such a thing.
"Never mind—forget about it." he said lightly.
He turned his gaze back to Ivan, who was still bowing before him. Lucian raised an eyebrow again and placed his hands on his hips.
"So you're still like this, I see." he said with a slightly exasperated tone, though no real anger could be heard in his voice.
"Come now—didn't you already see my face earlier?"
Ivan did not respond to Lucian's words. His shoulders trembled slightly—whether from nervousness or guilt, only he knew.
Lucian sighed again, this time tilting his head slightly as he folded his hands in front of his chest.
"If you keep bowing like that, you'll end up with all sorts of troublesome problems later on."
He watched Ivan for a moment before shifting his gaze away.
"Your back and hips will start to ache, you know."
"Forgive my rudeness, Young Master." Ivan finally spoke up, his voice still slightly shaky. He slowly straightened up, though his body remained tense.
"I will not do it again." he said, carefully avoiding direct eye contact with Lucian.
"I don't mind—so stop bowing when you speak to me," Lucian stated, his gaze growing sharper as he looked at Ivan.
Ivan swallowed quietly, then shifted his eyes toward Lucian. Even partially hidden by strands of hair, he knew full well that his Young Master's eyes were fixed firmly on him.
"Are you certain about this, Young Master?" Ivan asked, his voice still carrying a hint of doubt.
Lucian narrowed his eyes further, staring at Ivan as the man tried to look anywhere but at him.
"Do I need to repeat myself?" he said in a flat but firm tone.
"If you do it again, I won't hesitate to kick your rear end before your back gets sore from bowing so much."
Ivan's eyes were now wide open as he stared at Lucian—small sparks of light seeming to glint in them. He closed his eyes briefly, let out a breath, and a faint smile appeared on his face.
"It is an honor, Young Master." he said earnestly.
In his heart, he murmured, "With a face as beautiful as yours, why do you always hide it behind a mask?" He closed his eyes and clasped his hands together in a hopeful gesture. "Ah! If only I could capture and preserve Young Master Lucian's beauty forever."
Lucian furrowed his brow at the overly dramatic, completely out-of-place expression on Ivan's face.
He felt a slight shiver of embarrassment, one corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
"Stop thinking those weird things and making that ridiculous face." he said flatly, though it was clear he was holding back a laugh.
Ivan looked startled for a moment, his eyes going wide and his cheeks flushing bright pink with surprise and embarrassment.
"Gah?!?!" His voice caught in his throat, barely audible as he stared at Lucian with disbelief.
"Can you read minds or something?!?"
Lucian let out a quiet chuckle, then covered his mouth with his hand and looked away for a moment.
"I was just guessing because of that ridiculous look on your face." he thought to himself.
A few strands of his long hair fell forward as he bowed his head slightly. He casually reached for the black ribbon lying on the nearby table, lifting his hand to gather his hair at the back of his head.
His fingers worked deftly to tie it in a low ponytail. His silver-white hair fell down his back, leaving only a few fine strands framing his face.
Ivan, who had been watching him closely, felt his eyes widen a little—as if he'd just realized something new.
"That's unusual. You've tied your hair back today?" he asked, his voice cautious but clearly carrying undisguised admiration.
"Yeah, that's right," Lucian replied casually, letting out a small breath as he adjusted the ribbon. "Honestly, it was getting in the way. Should I just cut it instead?"
Ivan reacted immediately to those words. "NO, YOUNG MASTER....—!"
Silence fell for a moment. Ivan quickly covered his mouth, then squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to erase the words he'd just spoken.
"Ahem—what I mean is, that is entirely your decision, Young Master." he said more politely this time, continuing calmly, "But if I may say so—your hair feels like nature's masterpiece, radiating heavenly beauty. If you were to cut it, I fear even that small change would diminish its splendor."
Lucian stared at Ivan in silence for several seconds before letting out a faint scoff. "How many more verses have you prepared just to praise my hair like that?"
"I have about ten more stanzas ready, Young Master." He smiled and held up all his fingers to show.
"Shall I recite them all for you?"
Lucian rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Good heavens—I really wonder what goes on inside your head sometimes."
Ivan furrowed his brow as if trying to understand what Lucian meant. But soon he smiled again, seeing nothing wrong with his habit of praising Lucian however he could—Young Master Lucian was simply extraordinary.
"Alright, I suppose I'll think about it." Lucian nodded slightly, though his expression made it clear he wasn't entirely convinced by his own words.