The walk back to my private chambers felt like a blur. My heart was still pounding from the adrenaline of the debate, my hands shaking with the urge to break something—until I pushed the heavy oak doors open.
The scent of my room had changed. It didn't just smell like cold stone anymore; it smelled like jasmine, soft rain, and the faint, earthy sweetness of medicinal herbs. Elara was there.
She was standing by the small wooden table near my daybed, her back to me. She was so focused on what she was doing that she didn't hear me enter. I watched her slender fingers work, carefully mixing a dark liquid in a crystal glass. I didn't say a word. I just stood there, leaning against the doorframe, letting the silence stretch between us.
Finally, she sensed my presence and jumped, nearly dropping the vial in her hand.
"Your Majesty! I... I didn't hear you," she said, her voice soft and breathless. She looked at the glass, then back at me. "I saw the way you drank the medicine earlier. You looked so unhappy... it was bitter, wasn't it?"
I remained silent, watching her, waiting.
"I crushed some dates," she continued, her confidence returning. "I mixed them in to make it sweeter. It won't change the effect, I promise. It's still the same... just more bearable for you."
I walked toward her, my gaze never leaving hers. I reached out and took the glass. When I took a sip, the overwhelming bitterness was gone, replaced by a rich, honey-like sweetness.
"It's good," I whispered, my voice raspy.
Elara's eyes softened, shimmering with an emotion I couldn't quite name. "Thank you... for saving me," she said quietly.
The Fall
The exhaustion finally hit me. The weight of the crown and the throbbing in my leg converged into a single point of pain. I turned to sit on the edge of the large mahogany bed, but as I shifted my weight, my injured leg gave out. A sharp, electric sting shot through my thigh.
"Ah—!" I gasped.
"Eri!" Elara cried out.
She lunged forward to catch me, but the momentum was too much. Instead of steadying me, her weight combined with mine, and we both toppled backward. We landed hard on the plush silk mattress, the springs creaking under the impact.
The world stopped.
I was flat on my back, and Elara was hovering directly over me. Her hands were planted on the bed on either side of my head, her arms locked straight. We were so close that I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, mixing with the scent of the herbs on her hands.
Neither of us moved. The memory of the water—cold, dark, and suffocating—rushed back. I remembered the feeling of her lips against mine under the lake, the way I had forced the air from my lungs into hers.
The tension in the room snapped tight. Elara's face turned a brilliant, burning crimson. Her gaze drifted down, moving slowly, almost painfully, until it anchored on my lips.
I saw her throat move as she visibly swallowed, her breath hitching in the small space between us. Her eyes lingered there, trapped by a magnetic pull she couldn't fight. Then, as if realizing the danger of the moment, she bit her lower lip and tried to scramble away. "I... I should go. I'm sorry, Your Majesty."
The Proposal
Before she could pull away, I reached out and caught her by the waist. I pulled her back down toward me, drawing her closer until the space between us was non-existent. The touch was electric, stopping her in her tracks.
"Elara," I said, my voice low and thick. "Let's get married."
I waited for the shock, but her eyes—wide and searching—held a quiet, steady resolve. She didn't flinch. She looked at me as if she had been waiting for this vow since we were pulled from the lake.
"Yes, Your Majesty," she whispered, her voice like silk. "Let's get married."
For a moment, the world was just the two of us. We were so close I could hear it—the frantic, erratic rhythm of our hearts. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. It was so loud in the silence of the room, a chaotic beat that told the truth our lips hadn't yet dared to speak.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
The doors swung open. Lourice stepped in, her eyes wide as she took in the scene of us on the bed.
Elara and I scrambled apart instantly. We stood up so fast we almost tripped, both of us flushed a deep, burning red, darting our eyes to opposite corners of the room.
"Your Majesty, the Council is—" Lourice stopped.
I caught Lourice's gaze—her eyes were filled with mockery. There was a sharp, playful glint in her expression, a knowing look that told me she had seen exactly what she wasn't supposed to see. She was clearly enjoying the sheer awkwardness of the situation.
I shot her a sharp, warning glare—a silent, authoritative command that said, "Not now."
"L-Lourice," I coughed, trying to find my voice as I straightened my tunic. "What is it?"
Lourice suppressed a smirk, though her eyes were still dancing with mischief. "The Council is waiting for your signature, Your Majesty. But... it seems I've interrupted a much more... private negotiation."
I stood tall, my heart still thundering against my ribs. The debate with the Council was over, but the fire had just started