Now Lucien found himself bathing beside the man who was the very reason he had lost his best friend, Damien.
He never even found Damien's body in the rubble, just ashes, scattered like the remnants of his own heart.
The Don hadn't been given time to mourn. All he could do was hold a small ceremony, give Damien a token of respect that meant nothing in the face of death.
Because Damien was gone, and no amount of ritual could change that.
The more Lucien thought about it, the more revolted he felt to even share the same space with Edmund.
"What's wrong, Edmund?" he asked suddenly, cutting through the silence.
"Too ashamed to say anything? Not even a simple sorry?"
The only reply was the sound of water dripping, echoing in the stillness of the bath.
"I won't ask for forgiveness," Edmund finally said. "Nor will I apologize for what I've done in this manor."
"You're not foolish, Lucien. You know what I would've done if I had caught you that day."
