The room was dimly lit, with flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the cracked plaster walls. The air was heavy with the scent of damp wood and faint traces of lavender, an attempt to mask the room's underlying poverty. Andrei's eyes adjusted quickly, taking in the modest furnishings: a small bed pushed against the wall, a rickety table cluttered with papers and a half-empty bottle of vodka, and a single worn chair by the window.
Yelena crossed the room without a word, her movements brisk and purposeful. She picked up the bottle, poured herself a drink, and downed it in one swift motion. Andrei remained by the door, unsure of whether to speak or wait for her to acknowledge him.
Finally, she turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "What do you want, Your Highness?" she asked, her tone sharp. "Why are you here?"
Andrei stepped further into the room, closing the door softly behind him. "I couldn't leave things the way they were," he said, his voice calm but firm. "I couldn't leave you."
Yelena let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. "You're a fool," she said, setting the glass down on the table with a sharp clink. "You don't know what you're doing. You don't belong here."
"Maybe I don't," Andrei admitted, his gaze steady. "But I'm here now. And I'm not leaving until you hear me out."
She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the table. "Fine," she said. "Speak. But make it quick."
Andrei hesitated, searching for the right words. "You told me not to follow you," he began. "But I can't help it. There's something about you, Yelena. Something that draws me to you, no matter how much you push me away."
Yelena's eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. "You don't know me," she said, her voice cold. "You think you do, but you don't. You see what you want to see—a damsel in distress, someone you can save. But that's not who I am."
"I don't want to save you," Andrei said quickly, his voice rising with emotion. "I just... I want to understand you. I want to know who you really are."
Her lips curled into a bitter smile. "You wouldn't like what you find," she said. "The real me isn't someone you'd want to know."
"Let me decide that," Andrei said, stepping closer. "You've built walls around yourself, Yelena. I can see it. But you don't have to keep them up with me."
Yelena's eyes flashed with anger, and she pushed away from the table, taking a step toward him. "You don't understand," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and pain. "You think you can just waltz into my life and make everything better? You think your title, your money, your charm will fix anything? You have no idea what I've been through."
"Then tell me," Andrei said softly. "Let me in."
She stared at him for a long moment, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. Andrei could see the conflict in her eyes, the war between the part of her that wanted to trust him and the part that couldn't bear to. Finally, she turned away, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
"You want to know the truth?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fine. I'll tell you."
She walked to the window, staring out at the dark streets below. "My father was a monster," she began, her tone hollow. "He beat my mother until she couldn't stand. And when he wasn't beating her, he was... taking things from me that no man should ever take from a child."
Andrei's heart clenched, his breath catching in his throat. He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her, but he stayed where he was, letting her speak.
"When I was sixteen," Yelena continued, her voice growing steadier, "I ran away. Took my little sister with me and came here, to the city. I thought we'd be safe. I thought we could start over. But this place... it chewed us up and spat us out."
She turned to face him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I've done things I'm not proud of, Andrei. Things I had to do to survive. And now you're here, acting like you can just sweep me off my feet and make it all go away. But you can't. You can't undo what's been done."
Andrei took a step toward her, his heart aching at the pain in her voice. "I know I can't change the past," he said. "But I can help you build a future. A better one."
Yelena let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "You're delusional," she said. "You don't even know what you're getting yourself into."
"Maybe not," Andrei admitted. "But I'm willing to try. For you."
She stared at him, her expression softening ever so slightly. For a moment, it seemed as though she might let him in, might let herself believe in the possibility of something better. But then she shook her head, the walls going back up.
"You should leave," she said, her voice flat. "I'm getting annoyed by your presence."
Andrei hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to stay, to fight for her. But he could see the finality in her eyes, the resolve that wouldn't be shaken. With a heavy heart, he nodded.
"I'll go," he said quietly. "But this isn't the end, Yelena. I'll be back."
She didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the floor. Andrei turned and left the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
As he stepped out into the night, he felt a surge of determination. Yelena was right—he didn't know what he was getting himself into. But he was willing to find out. No matter how long it took, no matter how many walls he had to break down, he wasn't going to give up on her.
Not now. Not ever.