Chapter 8: MIND GAMES AND MISTRUST

The only sound in her chamber now was the faint crackling of the dying fire, and the silence was oppressive. Lycia sat slowly on the bed's edge, her mind churning with many ideas. As a reminder that she had once again been made to do something she didn't want to do, the food in her stomach churned awkwardly. She detested him for manipulating her will and giving the impression that she didn't own herself, unlike him. She detested the fear that was tearing at her chest more than anything else.

The door creaked open once more, but this time it wasn’t the sound of a servant or a guard coming to give her food; it was him. This time, there was no food tray or any attempt to act polite. This time, things were going to be different. He wasn’t here to play along with her rules, tiptoe around the issue, or leave her wondering what he meant. He was here to take control and make everything crystal clear. His intentions were clear in the sharpness of his movements, as he walked in to the room, with a cold determination etched into every line of his face.

Lycia’s heart sank as Cove stepped into her room, his presence as commanding and oppressive as ever. He shut the door behind him with deliberate finality, his piercing silver eyes locking onto her.

Lycia instinctively braced herself, her back straightening as she fought to maintain her composure. She had faced countless threats before, but Cove was different. There was something about him that made her feel exposed, vulnerable in a way she despised.

"Let’s talk," Cove said, his voice sharp and steady. There was no warmth, no hint of friendliness, just a chilling calmness that made it clear that he wasn’t here for a conversation, but a warning wrapped in words. He dragged a chair from the corner of the room and sat down, his body seemingly at ease, but his eyes pierced through her like a predator sizing up its prey.

Lycia went stiff, her whole body tensing up as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. Every move he made felt deliberate, carrying a weight that made her uneasy.

 “Who sent you?” he asked, his voice low and steady, almost too calm. Lycia’s face scrunched up for a moment, like she didn’t understand the question. Her eyes darted to the floor, then back to him, as if searching for the right response. The confusion on her face stayed for a few seconds before she forced it away, trying to hide that she didn’t know how to answer.

 “What are you talking about?” Cove’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening.

“Don’t play dumb. It is either Derek Or Conan?” Lycia blinked, utterly lost.

“Who’s Derek and Conan? I don’t know who you’re talking about.” His expression darkened, and the room seemed to grow colder.

“You expect me to believe that? I caught you wandering in my territory. And trust me I know that can’t be by chance? No, someone sent you. So tell me, was it Derek, or was it Conan?”

“I don’t know them,” she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “I have never even heard those names before!”

Cove studied her closely, his gaze searching for any sign of deception. But there was none, just genuine confusion and anger. For the first time, his confidence wavered. He leaned back on his chair, his hands on his thighs. He glanced at her, his expression unreadable.

"Is it?" he replied coolly, his tone indifferent. Lycia crossed her arms, glaring at him.

“You think the world revolves around you, don’t you?” Lycia said, facing Cove with eyes locked. “Not everyone is out to get you, Mr High-and-Mighty. Some of us are just trying to survive.”

He met her gaze, and for a split second, Lycia thought she caught a hint of something; doubt perhaps, or even guilt. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cold, calculating mask he always wore.

“You’re either a very good liar,” he said softly, “or you’re in way over your head.”

“I don’t understand. I have told you the truth,” she said firmly, her gaze unwavering. “Take it or leave it.”

Cove didn’t respond immediately. He stood, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her.

“We’ll see,” he said, his voice low and ominous. Then he turned and left, the door slamming shut behind him.

Later That Evening Cove strolled into the grand hall, his frustration barely contained; he was still pissed off or confused from the conversion with Lycia. Morrigana was just waiting for him, leaning against a column with her arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on her face.

“You look troubled,” she said, her tone laced with mockery. “Did your little thief give you a hard time?” Cove shot her a sharp look.

“She’s more complicated than I expected.” Morrigana arched an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on her lips. Morrigana has always been one to appreciate a little challenge. She found herself both amused and fascinated. It wasn’t like Cove to be caught off guard, and yet, this one seemed to anticipate every move.

“Complicated? Or are you just losing your touch?” He ignored the jab, pacing towards the door leading to the grand hall.

“She doesn’t know Derek or Conan. It’s either she’s the best liar I’ve ever met, or she’s genuinely ignorant.”

Morrigana snorted.

“Ignorant? That sounds about right. She’s just a street rat, Cove. You know I don’t know why you are you wasting so much time playing mind games with her?”

Cove stopped, his gaze snapping to hers.

“Because she’s more than just a street rat. She got into my territory undetected, evaded my study, and nearly made off with the map. That’s not luck, Morrigana, that’s skill.”

Morrigana pushed off the column, her eyes narrowing.

“Skill or not, you’re being too subtle Cove. This isn’t like you. You’re being less... decisive.”

“She’s not like the other thieves,” Cove said, his tone defensive.

“And that’s exactly the problem,” Morrigana shot back, stepping closer. “You’re letting her get under your skin. You’re hesitating, and it’s going to cost you. If she’s really as dangerous as you think, then stop playing these child’s play and handle it.”

Cove’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides.

“I don’t need your advice, Morrigana.” Her lips curled into a smirk, though her eyes gleamed with frustration.

“No, of course not. You’re Cove, the untouchable. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when this little thief turns out to be your undoing.” He took a step toward her, his voice low and threatening.

“Stay out of this, Morrigana. Lycia is mine to deal with.” Morrigana held his gaze, unflinching.

“Fine. But don’t come crawling to me when it all blows up in your face.” With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Cove alone in the dimly lit hallway.

He stood there for a long moment, the weight of her words pressing heavily on his mind. For the first time in a long while, doubt began to creep into his thoughts. Was he being too subtle? Or was Lycia truly different; a wildcard he couldn’t afford to underestimate? Either way, he knew one thing for certain: the game had only just begun, and the stakes were higher than ever.

Cove’s eyes flicked to Morrigana, his expression hardening as he took a step forward.