Chapter 3: A Garden of Secrets

Lucien and Blaise made their way down a paved footpath. The path, lined with meticulously manicured hedges, led to an expansive open area where people could dance, or sit and eat, although it was empty now.

The garden of the wedding venue exuded elegance. Tall pillars rose majestically, their ivory surfaces adorned with delicate vine motifs that intertwined with intricate carvings of mythical creatures. The pillars were reminiscent of ancient temples, evoking a sense of grandeur and sanctity.

Beneath a canopy of twinkling lights, the dance floor awaited future twirls and merriment. Its polished surface reflected the moon's gentle glow, casting an ethereal luminescence upon the surroundings. Scattered throughout the area, elegant benches beckoned weary guests to rest and take in the enchanting atmosphere. Each bench, meticulously crafted, showcased ornate details that mirrored the architectural splendor of the pillars.

The vibrant colors and sweet scents of various blooms filled the air, infusing the garden with an enchanting fragrance. Lush arrangements of roses, their petals ranging from blush pink to deep crimson, dotted the surroundings. Delicate lilies, with their pristine white petals and intoxicating aroma, added an air of purity and grace.

Cascading wisteria vines clung to the pillars, their lavender-hued blossoms draping down in elegant clusters.

In the corners of the garden, enchanting moonflowers bloomed, their petals shimmering like silver in the dim light.

Lucien stood amidst the vibrant blooms of the garden, their intoxicating fragrance mingling with the warm summer breeze. The full moon cast dappled shadows on the manicured lawns, creating a serene backdrop despite the tangled web of drama that had unfolded within the walls of the grand estate.

He observed Blaise, who was walking beside him in silence. Lucien couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment at the audacity with which Blaise carried himself. Despite the events that had unfolded—a scandalous encounter with a man concealed in a closet, followed by the public humiliation of a slap from his own mother—Blaise wore an expression of cool detachment.

"Aren't you noble," Blaise finally spoke, his voice laced with a hint of sardonic amusement. "Being the one to bite the bullet and remove me from polite company."

Lucien's gaze met Blaise's, searching for any hint of remorse or contrition. Yet, all he found was a sly smile that danced at the corners of Blaise's lips. It was a smile that held secrets, secrets Lucien longed to unravel.

"No, it's not like that," Lucien responded. "I saw the situation escalating, and I saw my stepmother was growing increasingly upset. It was clear that she wasn't handling things well."

He paused, remembering the way Marie had slapped Blaise, and the flurry of emotions that had coursed through him at the time—the fear, the worry for Blaise's safety, and perhaps, if he were to be honest with himself, a hint of selfish curiosity too. Blaise had always been a figure on the periphery, the subject of whispered conversations and furtive glances. Lucien had seen photographs, images of a younger Blaise, but they were mere fragments of a fragmented tale. Finally, he got to meet the real thing, and what a strange meeting it was so far!

Lucien prodded a little further. "Why was she so angry?"

Blaise ran his fingers over the petals of a nearby flower thoughtfully, then turned to face Lucien.

"It's complicated," Blaise sighed. "Let's say there have been some misunderstandings with my mother."

Lucien's curiosity flared, ignited by Blaise's cryptic words. He took a step closer, the lush grass cushioning his feet. The garden seemed to hold its breath, as if the very blooms yearned to hear the untold story of Blaise's past.

"Misunderstandings?" Lucien pressed gently, urging Blaise to share his burdens. "But why all the secrecy, the avoidance? It's as if everyone tiptoes around whatever happened in the past. Did you get caught doing something similar to what I caught you doing?"

Blaise rolled his eyes to himself, then said, "It's a little bit more than that, but some stories are best left untold." He glanced up at Lucien and said, "I don't believe you told me your name."

"Lucien." He held out his hand to shake Blaise's, a gesture that seemed to surprise him. He took Lucien's hand and gave it just a quick shake before pulling it away.

Lucien looked at Blaise. This was a person who wore a cool mask. Behind Blaise's aloofness lay a tapestry of anguish, woven with threads of secrecy and shattered trust. At least it seemed that way to Lucien.

"I won't pry if you're not ready to share," Lucien offered. "But know that, now that we are stepbrothers, I will do all I can to help you. Should you ever wish to unburden yourself or seek a confidant, I will lend you my ear."

Blaise's guarded expression softened, but then turned haughty again. "I never once said I needed help with anything, though."

Lucien shrugged, understanding that Blaise might not be ready to to let down his guard just yet. "Nevertheless, as family now, I intend for us to get along. I will treat you with decency, even if the rest of your family has turned cold. Of course, on the condition that you behave and be decent to me as well."

Blaise seemed irked by Lucien's earnestness, but then a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "Pity, I was hoping we could be indecent together."

Lucien's cheeks grow hot. Why was Blaise still acting like this?

"Blaise, I'm serious. I genuinely want to help you. Let me help you get along with your family again."

"Again, I didn't ask you to help me with anything." Blaise crossed his arms and studied Lucien. "So, you're that man's son, huh? Well then, what do you do?"

Lucien shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze drifting to the serene garden. "I'm currently on a break from college. Not doing much, to be honest."

Blaise appeared surprised, his eyes scanning Lucien's tall and athletic frame. "I thought you were older than that. Maybe your height threw me off, you're very tall. Why take a break from college?"

Lucien stared down at a small clump of dandelions tucked near a bush. "Just needed a breather. I plan to go back next year, though." Curiosity got the better of Lucien as he posed a question of his own. "Are you still in school then? You look too young to be misbehaving as you were."

Blaise looked annoyed. "I'm 19, but I'm not in school at the moment. I was living with my uncle, Raphael. He's well-off, so I didn't need to work or study. But..."

He trailed off, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air. Lucien's brow furrowed with concern, knowing there was more to the story than Blaise was willing to reveal.

"Your mother mentioned a falling out with your uncle," Lucien recalled gently. "I won't press you for details. But it sounded like perhaps your uncle kicked you out."

Blaise turned his head away, focusing on the moonflowers behind him. "We had a disagreement about something. I thought I could stay here for a while at my mother's house but it seems like that won't be happening."

Lucien gaze at Blaise's figure which suddenly seemed small and fragile to him. "I'm sure I can find a way to convince her. She is your mother after all. Her house is large enough. Of course, you must behave while under her roof, but it's a temporary solution."

Blaise eyed Lucien cautiously, as if weighing his words. "Don't you have a place of your own?"

Lucien shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips. "My father and I lived in a small apartment, which he already sold. We moved into Marie's home just last week."

Blaise seemed nervous, his thoughts racing. Lucien, sensing the unease, assured him, "Your mother has always been kind to me. Some people may be two-faced, but she genuinely seems like a reasonable person. I don't know what transpired between you, but I believe it can be mended. And even if it can't, she wouldn't dare let you suffer on the streets. You can ask her to let you stay... perhaps in a few days, once she's cooled down. We can't upset her during her wedding. But, do you have a place to stay until then?"

Blaise shook his head. "Maybe Raphael has a friend who would take me in..."

Lucien let out a sigh. He could not let Blaise stay with a stranger, doing God knows what to pay his share of the rent. He was better off with family, even family who were cold to him. His mind raced, trying to find a solution amidst the tumultuous circumstances. "Blaise, when Marie and my father leave for their honeymoon after the wedding, it won't be her you should be asking for help; it'll be your brother, Troy," he suggested.

Blaise's expression faltered, a mixture of regret and frustration clouding his features. "Troy won't help. Coming here was a mistake," he muttered, defeated. "I'll have to find one of Raphael's friends who can take me in."

Something in the way Blaise said those words ignited a flicker of concern within Lucien. He couldn't shake off the worry that his uncle's friends might not be the most reputable individuals, and that they might exploit Blaise's vulnerable position for their own gain.

"Blaise, don't worry," Lucien interjected, his voice firm and reassuring. "Keep your spirits up. I have a plan."