LORD MALACHI'S POV:
Malachi watched closely as Lady Elara walked away from the Grand Halls.
Even when the King left, she kept going through the hallways.
She even went deeper into the Palace.
"Are you thinking of running away again, milady?" Malachi asked her in a strong voice.
He wanted to know what she was planning because he knew she didn't want to marry him.
Lady Elara quickly answered back, sounding a bit stubborn.
"I actually like exploring this place, unlike some others."
Malachi almost smiled. His crimson eyes showed that he was kind of amused.
"Oh, so you feel good walking around these twisty halls of the castle?" he said.
Lady Elara put her hands on her hips, showing that she was standing up boldly.
She replied back, "At least exploring helps me forget about the plans they have for me."
Her words were sharp, and Malachi could tell that she was upset underneath her calm appearance.
"I wonder what those plans are." Malachi's voice was low and rumbly, like it bounced off the walls.
"You know exactly what I mean," she said.
"But it's interesting to hear how you say it," Malachi answered, sounding like he was making fun of her.
Lady Elara clenched her jaw, looking determined, and stepped a bit closer.
"I'm not scared of you, Lord Malachi. You can't force me to do something that I don't want," she said firmly, even though she was angry inside.
"Oh. But you agreed. That's why we're here for this big event," Malachi smiled, seeming a little amused.
At first, he wanted to marry her because he needed to.
And their plans succeeded. Things were already starting to unfold in the kingdom of Veridia.
But now he saw her as someone intriguing.
'I sort of see myself in her.'
Lady Elara looked at Malachi with eyes that showed both a strong attitude and a playful hint.
"Agreeing to the event doesn't mean agreeing with your schemes," she started to say.
Her voice sounded nice even though her words were a bit sharp, "Why do you keep insisting to marry me anyway? Do you think you can redeem yourself by being one of us?"
At her statement, Malachi's crimson eyes showed a bit of anger for a moment.
He was angry because even though outside he has other intentions, deep inside of him, it was part of his desire.
And he hated seeing others see through him.
He drew in a lungful of air and controlled his emotions.
"Be careful, Lady Elara," he said back, sounding even colder than before. "You shouldn't guess things when you don't know anything at all."
"Oh, I've observed enough," she replied, her voice teasing, her words a calculated strike. "I think you want to be redeemed from your heritage. But unfortunately, Veridia does not want to accept you."
"You presume too much," he hissed, the words slipping through clenched teeth.
Elara's green eyes sparkled with a mixture of triumph and audacity.
"And you resist too much," she shot back, her voice gaining an edge that matched his own.
"Perhaps that's why you're drawn to me—because I challenge who you are underneath the armor you wear."
Malachi's features twisted into a mask of barely controlled rage. His jaw clenched as he fought to maintain his composure.
"You test my patience, Lady Elara," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.
Elara's smile remained unyielding, her fiery hair seeming to catch the light like a crown of flames.
"Isn't that the point, milord," she replied, her voice carrying a note of defiance that cut through the air like a blade.
Malachi sensed the undercurrents of her emotions, the fire in her spirit that matched her fiery hair.
An idea formed in his mind, a way to turn the tide of their exchange and provoke a reaction that might expose a chink in her armor.
"And yet, Lady Elara," Malachi's voice held a calculated edge, "one can't help but wonder if your defiance stems from the very legacy you hold dear."
Elara's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. "What do you mean?"
Malachi's lips curved into a chilling smile, his crimson eyes locked onto hers with a predatory intensity.
"Your beloved father," he continued, his words measured and cold, "the one whose footsteps you so fervently follow. How would he feel about your rebellion against the path your family set for you?"
Elara's eyes, once bright emerald, darkened into a deep shade of purple, a storm of conflicting emotions brewing within them.
"Don't you dare bring him into this," her voice trembled with a mixture of anger and grief, the edges of her words sharpened like blades.
Malachi's astonishment was swift and unguarded as he watched her eyes turn that shade of purple.
It is a hue that holds memories of a past he thought he had left behind.
'Those were the same eyes that destroyed my life,' he muttered bewildered.
A mix of emotions churned within Malachi—astonishment, rage, and a strange sense of vulnerability.
He tried to continue to provoke her. "We all know that you are the black sheep in your family. Your father must be heartbroken in heaven just by looking at you."
"That ain't true," Lady Elara quickly blurted out. But just as Malachi expected, a flash of purplish hue colored her eyes again.
Malachi can sense someone's power because he was once a powerful being himself.
"You're one of them," he concluded, his voice laced with a mixture of bitterness and disbelief.
Malachi's eyes bore into Elara, his voice low and chilling as he spoke.
"Listen well, Lady Elara," he said, his words sharp and cold. "I've made my decision. No matter your defiance, no matter your wishes, you will marry me."
Elara's chin lifted defiantly, her emerald eyes flashing with stubbornness.
"You can't force me into something I don't want," she retorted, her voice holding a determined edge.
Malachi's lips curled into a calculating smile, his crimson eyes glinting with a dark intensity.
"Oh, I can, and I will," he replied, his words like daggers. "Your defiance means nothing to me. You will become mine, whether you like it or not."