CHAPTER 206: ARROGANT LUCAS

The servants of the Lechian prince, faces pale with lingering unease, had hastily done as commanded and secured a place for Lucas and his companions. The arrangement had been made deep within the commoners’ district. The streets were filled with the scent of baked bread, sweat, and ale. Wooden shutters rattled against brick walls, and vendors hawked their wares long into the evening. The common people, far bolder than the nobles, peered openly at Lucas and the three radiant young women with him, whispering among themselves, their eyes filled with curiosity and awe.

The guards who had escorted them remained close, their armor clinking faintly, though their expressions betrayed no ease. As they halted in front of the inn...a modest building with lanterns swaying gently by the doorway...Lucas turned on his heel to face them. His hands were still casually wrapped around the waists of Nyx and Selene, while Lira lingered just slightly behind, her hand brushing his sleeve.

"You all look too stiff," Lucas said, his tone light but edged with authority. "I do not like to see men walking as though a mountain sits upon their shoulders. Life is short, and duty does not forbid joy." His grin widened, and he leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as though sharing a conspiratorial secret. "Go and find yourselves some ale. Find yourselves some women as well. Do not tell me Valerion men have forgotten how to live."

The guards shifted uneasily, some exchanging glances. The leader of the squad, cleared his throat. "My lord, we cannot abandon our post. Our duty is to remain by your side and ensure your safety."

Lucas chuckled, shaking his head as though they were children missing an obvious truth. "And Our King ordered you to obey me, did he not?"

The guard leader stiffened, his mouth opening and closing once before he gave a reluctant nod. "Yes, my lord. Those were the orders."

"Then obey me now," Lucas replied, his smile never faltering. "Go and drink until your throats ache. Go and lie with a woman until your dicks fail you. Go and laugh and shout like men who live. I command it."

The men looked stunned. One of the younger guards swallowed hard and muttered under his breath, "This... this is inappropriate."

Lucas caught it and laughed louder, the sound drawing curious glances from the inn’s patrons peeking through its windows. "Inappropriate? No. This is life. You will serve better when you are reminded of the taste of it. I want no hollow-eyed soldiers trailing me, looking as though they were already in their graves. Now go."

There was a long pause. Then, as though the weight of command itself forced their hands, the leader inclined his head deeply. "As you say, my lord. We shall follow your order."

"Good," Lucas said, patting the man’s armored shoulder with an almost brotherly ease. "Now get out of my sight before I drag you into a tavern myself."

The guards finally broke, their faces loosening into reluctant grins. Some laughed under their breath, others clapped one another on the shoulders as though already tasting the night’s indulgences. The leader bowed once more, more deeply this time. "Thank you, my lord. We will not forget this kindness."

"Kindness?" Lucas smirked. "I simply do not wish to be surrounded by grim faces when there is beauty beside me. Go."

With that, the men departed, their armor clinking less heavily than before, their steps already turning toward the brighter streets where tavern lanterns glowed and the sound of music carried.

Lucas then turned back to the inn’s doorway, where the warm scent of roasted meat and the faint buzz of laughter seeped through the walls. With one arm still looped around Nyx’s waist and the other around Selene’s, he reached for Lira, tugging her closer until she was tucked against him as well. The three girls leaned against him, their laughter spilling out as they jostled each other playfully for his attention, cheeks flushed with warmth not from drink but from the simple comfort of belonging at his side.

"Come," Lucas said softly, his voice laced with that same confidence which had silenced a prince only moments before. "Let us see what sort of welcome this place has for us."

With the three women giggling around him, their faces lit with fondness and amusement, Lucas stepped through the inn’s doorway, his presence filling the space as though he were walking into a hall built for kings.

The inn was crowded, its wooden beams creaking under the strain of voices and laughter that filled every corner. The scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread lingered in the air, mingling with the sharper smell of spilled ale. When Lucas and the three girls entered, their presence had turned every head, but soon enough, the commoners returned to their chatter, save for the occasional curious glance toward the foreign noble with such striking company.

Lucas wasted no time. He strode straight to the counter, leaning against it with the kind of lazy confidence that made the innkeeper blink twice before realizing who stood before him. "Ale," Lucas said, his voice smooth but loud enough to command the entire room’s attention. "Bring me your strongest barrels, not just for me, but for the whole house. Tonight, no man or woman drinks on their own coin while I am here."

A hush fell. Then a roar of approval broke out across the room. Men raised their mugs in salute, women clapped their hands, and even the traveling bards in the corner struck their lutes in a celebratory tune. The innkeeper stammered for a moment before bowing deeply. "At once, my lord. At once!"

And so the barrels came, rolled out by sweating servants, tapped and poured until every hand in the inn held a brimming cup. Lucas raised his own mug, his cheeks already flushed by the heat of the hall and the eager company pressing in around him. "To the Empire of Lechia!" he declared, his grin wide and careless. "May she be lively, its people bold, and its ale as endless as the stars!"

The cheer that followed shook the rafters. The girls flanked him at the table, laughing and sipping, though none matched his pace. Nyx leaned toward him with an amused smile. "You mean to drink the whole city dry, Lucas?"

"Only the parts worth drinking," Lucas replied with a chuckle, clinking his cup against hers. Selene rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched with a reluctant smile. "At this rate, you will pass out before the night is done."

Lucas leaned close, his breath warm with drink. "Then you must keep me awake, Selene. It would be tragic if I missed your sharp tongue even for a moment."

Her cheeks flared pink, and she quickly turned away, though Lira caught the exchange and laughed, nudging Selene with a mischievous grin. "You see, sister, even drunk he knows where to aim his words."

Hours passed in a blur of laughter, song, and clattering cups. The inn swelled with joy, strangers sharing tables as though lifelong friends. Even the servants of the prince, sent earlier to find the inn, found themselves reluctantly swept into the merriment, their stern faces loosening into faint smiles at the unexpected generosity of a foreigner.

But eventually, as the night deepened and the last barrel began to run low, Lucas leaned heavily against the table, his eyes glassy and his smile crooked. He beckoned the innkeeper with a lazy wave of his hand. "Innkeeper," he slurred, though his tone still carried the weight of command, "I will need the best room in your house. Bring more fire to it, bring more blankets, and let no one disturb me and my companions."

The innkeeper’s face tightened. He bowed but did not move immediately. "My lord," he said carefully, "I regret to inform you that our finest chamber has already been claimed. A noble merchant from the eastern quarter secured it this morning. It is not available."

For a moment, Lucas stared at him as though the words had not registered. Then he laughed, the sound low and rumbling, though tinged with the looseness of wine. "Not available?" He repeated the phrase with mocking slowness, then leaned forward, his hand flat on the counter. "You mistake me, innkeeper. I do not ask. I demand. Whoever has booked it can sleep on the floor or under the stars, it matters little to me. The best room shall be mine tonight."

A murmur rippled through the room, the cheerful tone from before souring into unease. The laughter died. Men and women turned in their seats, watching closely, their mugs lowering slowly to the tables. The Lechians did not like what they were hearing, and their displeasure showed plainly in their eyes.

One burly man near the back slammed his cup down and rose to his feet. "You have drunk our ale and made yourself welcome, foreigner. But do not think you can walk into our city and trample our ways."

Another voice joined in, sharp and angry. "The best room was claimed, and it stays claimed. You shame yourself by pressing it further."

Selene placed her hand gently on Lucas’s arm, her brows furrowed in warning. "Lucas, perhaps...."

But Lucas only grinned wider, his drunkenness plain now, though it did nothing to dim the unshakable confidence that clung to him. He swayed slightly where he stood, his hand still flat on the counter, his eyes sweeping across the gathering crowd that was quickly losing its patience.