Elara stood frozen as Ryan's words echoed in her mind.
"Because I don't kill ghosts."
What did he mean? Was she someone from his past? Or was this just another mind game from the infamous ruler of Veridion?
She clenched her fists. No matter what he knew, she couldn't afford to show weakness.
Ryan returned to his throne, his silver-gray eyes never leaving her. The flickering torches cast long shadows across his sharp features, making him look almost inhuman—more like a predator than a man.
"Take her to the west wing," he ordered the guards. "She stays within the palace walls from now on."
Elara's stomach dropped. The palace? He was keeping her close?
"I thought prisoners belonged in dungeons," she said, masking her unease with defiance.
Ryan smirked. "You're not just any prisoner, are you?"
Before she could respond, the guards pulled her up, dragging her toward the exit. But just as they reached the threshold, Ryan spoke again—low, authoritative.
"Elara."
She stiffened. He had never said her name before.
Slowly, she turned her head to meet his gaze.
"You're mine now."
The weight of his words settled over her like a chain she couldn't break.
---
Hours Later – The West Wing
The chamber they locked her in was nothing like a prison cell. In fact, it was disturbingly luxurious—an ornate bed, a balcony overlooking the city, and shelves lined with ancient books.
But the door? Bolted shut. The windows? Too high to escape.
Elara paced restlessly. This wasn't mercy. This was a cage wrapped in gold.
Why would Ryan keep her here? What did he really want?
Her fingers absentmindedly traced the strange mark on her wrist—the one that had been there since childhood. She had always hidden it, afraid of what it meant. But Ryan had looked at her like he knew.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
The door creaked open, and a woman stepped in—a maid, dressed in black and gold livery.
"The Emperor requests your presence," she said.
Elara frowned. "At this hour?"
The woman nodded. "It's not a request, my lady."
Something about the way she said it sent a shiver down Elara's spine.
She took a deep breath. Whatever game Ryan was playing, she would not lose.
As she followed the maid down the dimly lit corridors, she whispered to herself,
"I may be in his palace... but I am not his pawn."
---