Original source: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42083871
There’s a character, something like a spy or an assassin, a noble working under someone in the royal family, and in order to test Luca they target Fulgur. Luca knows this person’s true identity and decides to leave them be. When they finally put their plan into action and are about to touch “something that belongs to him”, he catches them redhanded and interrogates them personally.
The personality Luca puts on display for the public gives people the impression that he’s clueless about court politics and the power struggle within the royal family, especially since he spent most of his time going on military campaigns with his general, Selen. But he’s also the most popular candidate for crown prince, it’s taken for granted that he’s next in line for the throne, and there’s no way he climbed to this position through military achievements alone.
The prisoner is chained up awaiting his lord’s interrogation, but Luca has been silent for a while already. He’s sitting on a chair across from the prisoner, casually leaning against the backrest, his eyes downcast as he looks at the apple and the paring knife in his hands. He pushes the knife out of its sheathe and its blade against the brilliant red of the apple, his thumb pressed down on the surface of the blade, and he peels the apple little by little in a single long strip, revealing the pale flesh of the fruit.
Selen stays at his side, watching him. For a moment, Selen thought Luca wanted to pay the prisoner a visit in person because he was holding a grudge due to the assassination attempt against Fulgur. Now that she’s seen Luca like this, she eliminates this train of thought. If the bastard’s sole intention were to target Fulgur Brisko, then Luca would have simply done nothing and remained an observer. Had the attempt succeeded, maybe Luca would feel a little sad, but weighed against king and country, you could construe this loss as a good thing.
He takes a crisp bite out of the apple, his sharp canines tearing a pale wound into the quasi-oxidized flesh of the fruit.
“But you touched something of mine, and I can't turn a blind eye to that.” Luca Kaneshiro has completed his chef d’oeuvre, the long, swirling strip of apple peel gets nonchalantly chucked in front of the prisoner.
“…How do you want to proceed?” Selen asks just for show.
Luca lifts his head and gives her a quintessential “Luca” smile, then he stands up. The heels of his leather boots produce clear footsteps against the stone tiles. He squats down before the prisoner, grabs that face full of wounds and shoves the apple that’s now missing a bite into a still-bleeding mouth. The sound of a dislocating jaw mixes with that of the apple’s flesh being crushed.
“Don’t let him die too fast.” Luca stands again, gesturing at Selen with a bright smile. “Can I count on you for that?”
-
He has a dream about the palace gardens, a feast unfurled under a tree, Luca encircling him in his embrace. Fulgur has fallen asleep with his head slightly tilted, leaning against Luca’s body, and Luca simply holds him and watches him, contemplates how he could stare at Fulgur forever like this. A light breeze and blue skies, fragrant flowers in full bloom and mottled sunlight through the tree leaves; for a split-second, he truly believes he’s achieved the freedom and peace he seeks.
For a split-second, he truly believes Luca is the person to whom he can entrust his heart and soul.
The sweeter the dream, the greater the disappointment once you wake up. Every portion of naive yearning Fulgur harbors towards Luca is accompanied by equal parts of regret and disappointment. For some people, it’s only when they grow bright enough in your eyes that you can finally spot the shadows at their feet.