' A massacre. We all know she's creating a massacre of dead bodies for a ritual.'
'An army. She wanted to create an army of walking zombies .'
'Theron wanted to bring his wife , father and sister back from the dead , all the while working alongside his mother . The Queen Mother .'
'She said it was for greater power - for her coven and her . She needed dark magic . The power of the dead and living - that's what she had said.'
Everyone had their own answers.
Elara sat alone in the bath pool, their voices still echoing in her mind. The water rippled gently around her as she tried to make sense of the fragmented truths each Lord had shared. When the conversation had turned to her, Given, Leroy, and Darius, none of them had answers. They'd been clueless—or so it seemed.
Elara could only come to two conclusions: either Theron and the witch had approached the other Lords, seeking allies, or the people Theron and the witch didn't need were the ones closest to her—Given, Leroy, and Darius. But there was always the possibility that they were lying.
Frustration bubbled within her, and she submerged her body completely under the water. When she surfaced, droplets cascading down her skin, she gasped in surprise. Darius stood by the window, staring out into the night.
Her hand flew to her chest, but his presence didn't startle her for long. He remained by the window, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight.
"I needed to make sure you were here," he said, his voice soft, "safe and not punishing yourself."
Elara didn't respond. She leaned back into the water, letting it soothe her frayed nerves. Closing her eyes briefly, she tipped her head back, inhaling deeply.
After a pause, she asked, "Can I trust you?"
Her question caught him off guard. He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable, but when he answered, his voice was steady.
"Of course you can, starshine. You're the only reason I live."
Elara's heart skipped a beat. How could someone say that to her? How could she be the reason someone lived?
She shook off the thought, trying to rationalize his words. Perhaps she had saved him once. That had to be it.
"Can I trust Given?"
"Yes, you can."
"How about Leroy?"
Darius took a few steps closer before stopping again. "You can. But it's up to you. If I remember correctly, you were never the type to ask anyone who you should trust. You always decided for yourself, and I was always there to clean up if you made a mess. What's going on?"
His voice was softer now as he sat on the staircase leading into the pool.
Elara moved toward him, resting her arms on the tiled edge and laying her head on them. She stared into the distance while he watched her.
"I don't know," she admitted, her voice quiet. "I'm not sure who to trust or if I should even show my emotions. I have feelings too, you know. I'm not just a figurehead."
"Yes, you do," he murmured, reaching out to caress her cheek.
"Do you want me to remind you of some advice you once gave me a lifetime ago?"
Elara's lips curved into a small smile. 'A lifetimes ago ,' she echoed, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
The phrase stirred memories she couldn't quite grasp, and it hurt her heart to know they were just out of reach. Following her heart felt like a gamble—with stakes that could lead to her undoing.
"You have to ask me," Darius teased, his tone lighter as his fingers brushed near her lower lip. "That way, when you come to your 'prude senses,' I can quote you."
Elara laughed softly, closing her eyes. "Sir Darius, I kindly ask for your advice—something so profound it'll stick to my mind like a brain tumor."
He chuckled at her playful tone, the corners of his lips lifting into a smile that mirrored hers.
"You once said," he began, "'One can never rule a kingdom and its people without being true to themselves. You can't trust yourself to make decisions if you don't trust yourself . Be true to yourself, and your heart will follow. Take control of your life—it's yours to live. Take that step and take that dance. Live without chains, because if they become too tight, you'll never escape. All because you weren't honest with yourself enough to grab the reins and hold the key yourself .'"
Elara stared into his brilliant blue eyes, her smile deepening. "That's long—and motivational."
"And smart," he whispered, his breath brushing her lips.
"Take that step," she said, her voice a soft challenge.
"And take that dance," he replied, his gaze locked on hers.
"Because you might regret it," she added with a grin.
He nodded, his expression unwavering.
"So take this kiss," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Gladly," he responded.
And without hesitation, his lips met hers.