"I can't believe that dog attacked you." Given's voice was thick with disbelief as he gazed at Elara, still unconscious in her bed. Her head rested gently, silver strands of hair falling across her face. He couldn't help but play with her hair, his fingers threading through the soft strands as his emotions swirled in his eyes. Oh Queen , would you come back to us ? Come back to me , atleast .
His chest tightened, and for a moment, Given's eyes welled with unshed tears. Before he could let them fall, he stood up abruptly, glancing at the Queen one last time, as if saying goodbye to the woman he no longer fully recognized. He left the room quietly, the weight of his emotions pressing heavily on him.
Outside the room, he slumped into the bench, his thoughts tangled. A group of maids passed by, their laughter and low voices a buzz in the air. They were too far to hear anything clearly, but Given's sharp senses picked up every word they said. He could hear the giggles, the whispers—nothing that interested him, yet everything that reminded him of his curse.
The beauty he was burdened with, the power he had... It was all a curse. There were times, countless moments when he wished he could be plain, even ugly, just to escape the gaze of people like the Queen Mother. To escape the lustful attention, the expectations. It had been tolerable when Queen Elara ruled, when there was balance, but now? Now, he longed for simplicity, for a world where he wasn't a pawn, or worse, a prize to be won.
"Ah!" He startled at the unexpected contact. He looked up to find Evelyn standing there, her presence a welcomed interruption to his spiraling thoughts.
"Deities, Princess," he muttered, standing to face her. "You see, I'm starting to hate what you're becoming."
Evelyn's smile was tinged with bitterness as she crossed her arms. "Why, I'm glad we are on the same page. I'm starting to hate them, even more—I'm starting to hate myself at that, too."
Her voice dropped with vulnerability, and Given noticed the way her eyes lowered to her hands, as if lost in thought. It was a habit Evelyn had, one that made her different from the rest of them. Given appreciated the quiet sincerity in her actions, something rare in a world dominated by manipulation and control.
Before the silence could stretch too long, Evelyn muttered, "I can hear Lyric breathe and squeal under her breath all the time from a far distance . Do you have any idea how annoying that is?"
Given smirked lightly, the briefest flicker of amusement crossing his face. "Well, those are the perks of being turned, Princess. You hear a pin drop and even hear her from a mile away."
Evelyn groaned, clearly not finding the humor in it, but Given's smile lingered for a moment longer before it faded back into his usual somber expression.
"How is she doing?" Evelyn asked, her voice soft but laden with concern.
Given looked up at her, his protective nature obvious. "She'll be healed. The Queen is strong."
Evelyn hesitated, then asked in a low voice, "The Queen? Is she even that Queen?"
At this, Given shot her a sideways glance, his eyes narrowing slightly, but not in anger. It was more in surprise. "What do you mean by that?"
Evelyn sighed, and then, as though confessing a secret, she lowered her voice further, glancing around to ensure no one could hear them. "Father said she lost her memory. You know, Lyric... she poked him until he told us almost everything."
Given stared at her, his mind racing. The King—who prided himself on keeping secrets—had revealed something? But what he heard from Evelyn proved his speculations right .
"Those are lies, right?" Evelyn whispered, her gaze meeting his.
"Probably." Given's response was heavy, almost detached. His mind was still processing the implications.
The air between them thickened as both their heads hung low, the weight of the conversation sinking in. Then Evelyn spoke again, breaking the silence. "You won't allow me to see her, right?"
"There's blood," Given said sharply, his voice cutting through the air. "If they didn't tell you that she is wounded, then she is."
Evelyn winced at the coldness in his tone, but he softened as he continued, "You still can't control yourself, and her blood is too inviting."
He grinned, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "And I mean too inviting."
The change in mood was palpable, as Evelyn laughed lightly, her usual composure slipping for a moment. Given's forced cheerfulness brought a small smile to her lips.
"Really that alluring, huh?" she said with a raised brow.
Before Given could respond, Evelyn stood up, and as he did the same, preparing to bow, she halted him with her hand on his chest. His breath caught at the unexpected touch, and Evelyn, realizing what she had done, immediately pulled her hand back, her face flushing a deep red.
"Oh, sorry," she stammered, her voice flustered. "Sorry, sorry."
The awkwardness between them was palpable as Evelyn took a step back, still blushing furiously. "You don't have to bow to me all the time, you know. It's not necessary."
Given chuckled softly, but he remained standing, unsure of how to navigate the situation. She continued to back away, her face bright red, until she was by the corner. With a final, nervous smile, she gave him a farewell, but it was clear it was more for her own peace than for him.
Given shook his head, smiling to himself as she disappeared down the hallway. He settled back into the bench , thoughts once again clouded with melancholy. Oh , princess , if only you knew how pale you've become ... that when you turn red , you turn bright red .
With a sigh, Given leaned back, returning to his vigil outside the Queen's chambers. His mind still wrestled with all that had transpired, the layers of lies, betrayal, and memory. The Queen was the key to it all, and yet, every step he took felt like one further from the truth.