Elara, who had been unconscious the whole day, was finally awake—by force. Whatever it was that they had put in her body was making her drowsier than ever. As she stood in the middle of the room at night, she paced around, wondering what she could do. Clearly, she had enemies in this castle.
She couldn't decide whether it was Theron, or if it was simply that the man disliked strong, independent women who intimidated him. She thought of the Queen Mother. What would that old woman want from her? Though she was unsettling in her behavior towards Elara, she could still be on the list of enemies. And then there was Harrison. Definitely on the list—no explanation needed. Morgana... where was she? But Elara couldn't care less. She was adding anyone to her list who could potentially be a threat, and yes, she was on it herself.
While pacing, thinking of the many suspects, just near her room, an owl sat—watching over her. It tried to remain secretive, likely because of that earlier incident.
Lyric? No, she was too sweet. But Elara couldn't trust sweetness. So, for now, everyone was on her list, until she could find the man who betrayed her and figure out why and what had happened for him to do such a thing.
He had said he loved her. Then how could he?
Elara calmly approached the door, and the moment she did, the number of guards outside shocked her.
"Your Majesty, anything wrong?" One of the guards stepped forward to ask.
"No, I..." She paused, thinking of who and what she could say she was looking for. "I was searching for..." But as she turned her gaze to the side, she saw Given passing by the corridor. "For my personal attendant, Given. Can you please summon him? I require his presence. Thank you."
She closed the door behind her heavily, leaning back and releasing the breath she had been holding before she went to sit down on the singular couch. She waited to finish the conversation she had started with him in the carriage before they were interrupted.
She was nervous, but she needed to know. Whether good or bad, she needed to know everything he knew about her. And so, she sat there and waited, her mind racing until a person knocked on the door.
"Enter," she responded.
But when the person entered, her heart dropped.
"Sent by the King, Your Majesty," the guard said, his head bowed. "The King suggests you rest, and you will meet whoever you need to meet tomorrow."
Elara stood up, her expression hardening as she fixed her gaze on the guard, "Can I see the King then?" Her voice was calm, but the undercurrent of urgency lingered. She approached him slowly, making sure every step conveyed her resolve. "I have been ill, in bed all day," she added, casting a brief glance toward the bed, her words layered with meaning. "I just need some company. If I can't see my personal attendant, can I be blessed with the presence of my husband?"
The guilt-trap worked. The guard bowed his head before leaving, a quiet acknowledgment that Elara's request had been granted.
Moments later, she sat beside Theron, both of them sharing the same couch, but the silence between them felt like a heavy cloak. The distant hum of the castle seemed to fade away as they stared out at the night sky. Theron refused to answer any of the questions that Elara had in mind, his demeanor unchanged, his gaze fixed on the window.
"I haven't seen Morgana..." Elara ventured, but Theron's sharp side-eye was enough to silence her.
"I thought we agreed on silence," he muttered, his voice colder than she expected.
"But I need to know," Elara pressed, her tone unwavering.
"Know about what?" Theron turned to face her fully now, his eyes dark with irritation. "Morgana is none of your concern. And if I remember well, you two never got along that well."
Elara met his gaze, not backing down. "Well, that is because of you."
His reaction was immediate—he stood up, the motion so abrupt it almost seemed like a reflex. Annoyance flickered across his face as he prepared to leave, his posture stiff and defensive.
"You won't answer about the castle, our past, our children… but when I ask about Morgana, you shut me out?" Elara's voice was sharper than she meant it to be, her frustration bubbling to the surface. She felt a mix of satisfaction and annoyance at the way his weakness became apparent in that moment.
Theron's back was still to her, and his voice, though clipped, held a commanding edge. "What do you want me to say? Rest."
Elara stood up, her patience fraying. "If you're going to leave, at least bring me some company. Given."
"No," he said simply, not turning around.
"I don't have any rest inside of me," she shot back. "I've slept all day. I need to talk to someone. Even if it's about the weather or anything."
Theron paused, his shoulders stiffening as if weighing her words. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn't answer, but then, almost grudgingly, he spoke, his voice low, but final. "I'll send the handmaids to bring you a late-night snack and tea that will knock you right out. Tomorrow is a huge day, I need you energized and cooperating."
With that, he left, leaving Elara alone with her thoughts.
"Big day," Elara mocked under her breath, the sarcasm in her voice palpable. She sank back onto the couch, the weight of his absence filling the space around her. Her mind, however, remained active. She wasn't about to go back to sleep—not until the handmaids brought her the tea and snacks. There were things she needed to find out, things that wouldn't wait.
She was done with being locked away in her room, with the silence and the secrets.
Minutes later, two of the handmaids entered, their smiles a mask of polite concern.
"Your Majesty, we can stay with you until you're finally ready for bed," Nancy said, standing straight with her hands clasped in front of her, offering a smile that Elara couldn't quite trust.
Elara glanced up at them, her expression flat. "No, thank you. I'll be quick to drink the tea and sleep as soon as possible."
But the handmaids didn't seem convinced. They lingered in the room, their presence more intrusive than comforting. The nagging feeling that they feared something might happen like last time—a repeat of the earlier incident—was in the air. But Elara had no intention of being babysat.
She stood, her tone turning sharper. "I ordered you out. Leave."
The handmaids exchanged uneasy glances but didn't argue. They bowed and left the room, the door closing behind them with a soft click.
Elara was alone once more, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and plans. Tomorrow loomed large, but she wasn't sure she would even grace them with her presence. She needed answers - and those answers will be the only things she shall grace with her presence.