CHAPTER ONE

Update January 2016 - In an attempt to improve the cohesion and feeling of this story, I've made a series of serious changes. Large sections of the story have been rewritten. I hope you enjoy the result.

Luxanna Crownguard sighed, retrieving the small, framed picture she had hastily thrown onto the floor. There she was - blonde locks full of light, a smile full of joy. And next to her, of course, was Jarvan. Much like the once glimmering golden frame of the picture, her perspective on their union had tarnished with time. She brushed away the dust that covered his face, staining her satin glove. Wasn't that the dream of every girl? The romantic cliché of marrying a prince? She chuckled at such an idea. Not this girl.

She couldn't fault him for his efforts. He had all of the courtly grace and charm of any prince. But was this what she wanted? Her hands found the withering leaves of the flowers adorning her nightstand. What she wanted? She didn't have a choice. The leaves turned into fibrous dust beneath her touch.

The slanted rays of the sun stung her eyes, and she moved back toward the comfort of her desk. They cast long shadows in their wake; she had been her too long - but what reason was there to leave? She knew what lay beyond her walls.

She wondered if she could even find excitement in the military missions she had been a part of until recently. Walking through Noxian streets in one disguise or another, attempting to steal their secrets, the rush of light ray manipulation and practical invisibility... But in this box of a room, inside the palace, that seemed so far away. There was no excitement here. Her missions had been dangerous, and more than once her life had been in jeopardy - but at least she had felt something.

Something beyond the dull grey of drifting motes of dust and withering flowers among the marble halls.

"Luxanna?"

She breathed a sigh at the sound of her fiancée's voice from the other side of the door. Was it that time already?

"Come in," Lux said. She stood up and did her best to appear cheerful.

"Good afternoon. I hadn't seen you around the palace so I thought I'd come check on you," Jarvan said as he stepped through the door. If he was a few inches taller he would've had to duck. Briefly, she was reminded of her brother - although Garen was more broad shouldered and shorter than his best friend was. For that moment, it wasn't so hard to keep a smile on her face.

"I'm well. Just resting." She could already feel the awkwardness begin to seep into the room like the dampness of the early spring outside.

"I'll have to send you new ones - those are wilting already," Jarvan said as he walked beside her. He put a strong hand gently on her shoulder while the other probed the dying flowers next to them. From his touch, it seemed that he felt Lux was almost as fragile.

His touch wasn't uncomfortable, but the weight of his hands was not unlike the burden of her armor, currently gathering dust in the armory - cold, unyielding.

"I would like that very much." She returned his smile with the same tight-lipped one that would forever remain in that picture framed in gold.

"Yes, well, it would be my pleasure. Can I expect you for dinner this evening?" He asked. With the question, he stepped back, removing his hand from her and holding them at his sides.

"I wouldn't miss it," Lux said.

"Excellent. I will see you then. You should go outside - it's too good a day to spend indoors," Jarvan said, looking between her and the flowers.

"I'll consider it," she responded, giving him a nod for courtesy's sake.

Mirroring her response, Jarvan exited her quarters - leaving her in silence once again. Glancing again at the flowers, she really considered his words. Maybe going outside would do her some good. Thoughts of the outside air and gardens seem comforting. The flowers would just be coming into bloom, and the chill of the last winter winds would linger in the breeze.

Unfortunately, the rest of the palace lay between her room and that place.

She resigned herself to her bed. Not bothering to draw back the sheets, she merely collapsed face first into the comforter. It wasn't very lady-like, but she couldn't be bothered to give a damn at this point. With that, sleep came easily.

Her dreams were evidence of her ongoing infidelity. The passion of it blossomed in her chest even as she slept; images of hidden kisses danced across her mind's eye. In her waking life the guilt of such an obvious act of treason weighed on her shoulders heavily, but when she slept she indulged in the forbidden fruit without regret. The firm grip around her waist made her shiver with anticipation as her lover touched her neck with his lips, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever he touched her skin. She held him close, relishing the heat from his body as it moved against her own with a familiar rhythm. There were those adventurous blue eyes and that chaotic mass of golden locks - thick and wild, unlike her own blonde hair. She would run her delicate fingers through it while she massaged his scalp. Those moments of intimacy were few and far between, but they were forever infiltrating her dreams.

"My lady?" It was one of her attendants at the door.

Lux was reluctant to answer at all, given what had been interrupted. She cleared her throat and managed a pleasant-sounding, "Yes?"

"Jarvan is expecting you."

Lux blinked away the sleep against the pull of her tired lashes. Time had slipped from her grasp, and the weariness of reluctant life had caused her to not mourn it's passing. She had slept longer than intended.

"Yes, I'll be right out," she said as she stood up and glanced in the mirror, rearranging her disheveled hair. On occasions when she was exposed to the sun regularly, the color of her hair took on multiple shades. Nearly platinum in the front and on the crown, and then a soft golden color beneath. But now there was no such variation. She chose a decorative headband on a whim, sliding it back through her hair before she left the room. It was crafted from mother of pearl, allowing the sheen of her hair to shine through while worn.

Jarvan was waiting for her near the entrance of the dining hall, giving her a somewhat surprising embrace before she was allowed to pass. Lux frowned into his shoulder, where he couldn't see. He wanted something.

"That hairband looks lovely on you," he said as they separated.

"Thank you, Jarvan. Shall we?" Lux asked, gesturing past him and toward the dinner table.

Clearing his throat, the Prince wasted no time getting into what their meeting was truly about.

"I was talking to some intelligence officers today," he said, taking his own seat to her right.

"I see. What did they have to say?" She said, focused on pouring some gravy onto her ham. The cooking was quality. As always.

"Only one thing particularly special," he said, idly rolling a bottle of wine in his hand.

The motion of eating masked her partially concealed frown. Why couldn't he state his desires plainly?

"And that is?" She asked, taking a swig of her own wine.

"There's evidence of a coming assassination attempt on someone in the high court."

This peaked her interest to say the least; she was a member of the high court. She wasn't the only member, of course, and the list of potential victims was lengthy. The court involved any of the family members of the six governing houses: Lightshield, Spiritmight, Buvelle, Vayne, Laurent, and her own, Crownguard.

"My advisors and I agree that you are most suited to find out who it is and who they want."

There wasn't even a modicum of surprise in that statement. Lux had spent hours in the secret tunnels of their most formidable foe collecting information, so why wouldn't she be an obvious choice now? With her knowledge of magic she stood the best chance of getting in and out without being noticed, which was crucial in ensuring information got back to headquarters.

"How much time do I have?"

"We would like you to get started on this assignment tomorrow. We don't know how much time we have, so it is important to get started as quickly as possible. I'm sure you're aware of how dangerous something like this is to the city."

Her earlier thoughts of adventure-lust had betrayed her. The orders being issued from Jarvan's lips meant that they had been robbed of potential. It spoke to her state of being that an opportunity to die for her country had ever been considered more desirable than living in a palace.

"Of course. Demacia, now and forever, right?" She said, but she realized that they rang hollow the moment they left her mouth. To mask this, she took another sip of wine. If Demacia needed her help she wouldn't turn them down, but that didn't mean she had to sit at a dinner that had her skin crawling in aggravation.

"I apologize, but I'm not feeling well. I think I'll go lay down now." Jarvan rose as she did out of respect, wishing her well and not complaining at all that she felt it necessary to leave.