Chapter Thirteen

The warmth of the morning sun felt soothing against her fair skin as she sat in a chair, a cup of hot tea cradled in her hands. For once, she felt at peace—her parents were off exploring the town, and the servants were quietly tending to their own tasks.

“My Lady!” Amelia’s voice pierced the tranquility of the morning, accompanied by the quick rhythm of her footsteps echoing against the marble floor.

Elara turned to her left, her peaceful moment interrupted, to see Amelia rushing toward her, slightly out of breath. In the maid’s hand was a letter, and the unmistakable royal seal glinted in the sunlight.

She felt her heart quicken slightly as she reached for the letter, her fingers brushing the embossed seal. A small smile formed on her lips as she read its contents. Elara hadn’t expected a reply so soon, and the swiftness of it brought an unexpected warmth to her chest.

Just as she finished reading, the sound of carriage wheels on gravel pulled her attention toward the front of the estate. Perfect timing—her parents had returned.

Elara greeted them at the entrance with a polite smile. “Mother, Father, welcome back. I have some interesting news,” she began, holding up the letter. “Prince Sebastian has invited me for tea at the palace garden.”

Her mother’s eyes lit up with excitement, her hands clasping together. “Oh, how marvelous! This is a wonderful opportunity, Elara. You must dress your best and, well…” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Make an impression. Who knows? Perhaps you’ll capture the prince’s heart. Imagine what that would mean for our family—power, influence—everything we’ve worked for!”

Elara blinked, momentarily stunned, before forcing a laugh. “Oh, Mother, you jest!” she said, though her tone lacked conviction. Inside, annoyance simmered.

‘Am I nothing more than a pawn to them?’

She excused herself quickly and returned to her room, determined to push her parents’ ambitions from her mind. But their words lingered, a reminder of the weight she carried.

***

A few days later, Elara arrived at the palace as planned. She was directed to a balcony that overlooked the vast, meticulously manicured gardens. The scent of roses wafted through the air as she stood by the railing, taking in the serene view.

For a moment, peace enveloped her—but it was short-lived.

“Enjoying yourself, Lady Elara?”

The sharp voice sliced through the tranquility like a blade. Elara turned her gaze to find Lady Isadora approaching, her gown a shimmering cascade of silk and pearls that practically screamed wealth and status. Her posture was flawless, her movements graceful, but her eyes betrayed unmistakable hostility.

Isadora’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I was surprised to hear you were invited here. After all, not everyone has the distinction of being personally summoned by the king himself. But I suppose exceptions are made... occasionally.”

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Elara gave her a soft smile, her voice calm and composed. “It’s an honor, of course. I’m grateful for the prince’s invitation. The gardens are lovely this time of year, don’t you think?”

Isadora’s smile tightened. “Yes, well, the prince can be... overly generous. But, so is the King, as you should know that he and I are to be engaged once he turns twenty-one. A union arranged by our families years ago. It’s a bond no one can disrupt, no matter how charming they might think they are.”

Elara met her gaze with a gentle, steady expression. “How fortunate for you, Lady Isadora. A match like that must be such a comfort.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. She added, with a small but sincere smile, “Though I imagine there’s no harm in the prince extending kindness to his friends, is there?”

Isadora’s eyes narrowed slightly, her polished façade cracking just enough to reveal her irritation. “Kindness? Is that what you call his... attentions? Offering you a dance at the ball, inviting you here—don’t mistake it for anything more. His highness is simply being polite.”

“Politeness suits him,” Elara replied, her tone light and unruffled. “And his taste in company is impeccable. As is yours, I must say. Your gown is exquisite—Ashford designs, I presume?”

Isadora blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the compliment. “Why... yes. At least you’ve shown some discernment.” She smoothed the fabric of her gown, the brief vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it appeared. “Though it’s a shame you couldn’t apply the same taste to your... ambitions.”

Elara’s smile remained soft, almost serene. “Ambitions? Oh, I assure you, Lady Isadora, my interests are far simpler than you seem to think.”

Isadora leaned in slightly, her voice dropping low, almost cold. “Then let me make myself clear. Stay out of my way. The prince is mine, and I won’t have you meddling where you don’t belong.”

Before Elara could respond, a familiar, warm voice broke the tension.

“Lady Elara?”

Prince Sebastian stepped onto the balcony, his eyes seeking hers. His smile faltered when he saw Lady Isadora standing there, an unexpected addition to the gathering.

“Lady Isadora,” he said, his tone polite but surprised. “I didn’t realize you would be joining us.”

Isadora straightened, her smile widening as she glided toward him. “The king invited me, Your Highness,” she explained, her voice lilting with practiced sweetness. “It seems we’re all going to enjoy tea together.”

Elara quietly lowered her gaze, her expression calm but inwardly resigned. She had hoped for a private moment with the prince, to talk about things that felt far too personal to discuss openly. But now, it seemed her plans were slipping away.

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, then, realizing there was no avoiding the situation, offered Lady Isadora his arm. “Well then, if you’re here, Lady Isadora, may I escort you to the table in the garden? I’d like for us to sit together.”

Isadora beamed, clearly pleased with the prince’s attention. Elara, however, stood quietly to the side, a soft sigh escaping her as she watched them walk ahead of her.

Sebastian looked back at Elara, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment. He smiled apologetically, his expression sincere, as if to silently reassure her. Elara smiled back, her own gaze gentle, though the slight pang of disappointment lingered in her chest.

They walked toward the shaded gazebo at the center of the garden, and Elara stayed behind, her hands gently clasped together. She knew this conversation would have to wait.

‘I’ll have the chance to speak with him another time.’

She thought quietly, her calm demeanor masking the quiet swirl of thoughts within her.

‘For now, I’ll let them have their moment.’

As the distance between them grew, Elara took a deep breath, steadying herself. She had time. She would talk to Prince Sebastian when the moment was right.