"Ready to return to the main hall, my princess?" Mise's voice carries on through the echoes of her thoughts. "Allow me to escort you back, Your Highness."
"You shall." Elsie lets out, there's no point in trying to resist the inevitable.
She stands before them, adorned in an attire they deem fitting, the weight of their expectations heavy upon her and she hates it, hates it with all her heart. Elsie ponders the prospect of giving her hand in a marriage she never desired, never sought. The future looms ominously before her mind's eyes, a life she's going to have if she were to get married into the almighty Everlin clan unfurling in her head, unwanted and unchosen.
She feels the suffocating grip of obedience tighten around her, bound to their will, forced to comply with their every whim.
"Take a seat," her father tells, registering a ring cladded hand toward the chair, his command cutting through the tension-laden air. Elsie hesitates, but ultimately complies, sinking into the chair.
"The princess looks so gorgeous now!" Someone from her betrothed's side exclaims, their words ringing hollow in Elsie's ears despite the cheeriness radiating out from them. She forces a smile, masking the agitation brewing within her, while the woman's cherry lips stretch wide, oblivious to the upheaval churning beneath the facade.
The King of Leivca clears his throat, a silent command that captures all attention in the room. His dark gaze pierces through the bodies present in the main hall, but it's Elsie who feels the weight of that scrutiny, as if the king's eyes are attempting to penetrate her very soul.
"I wish to talk to the Princess," The king says, his deep and hoarse voice carrying a tone of calmness. Elsie's heart quickens, a mixture of dread and aversion swirling within her as she awaits the king's summons.
Her eyes cut to her father, who nods his head in a silent affirmation. Elsie exhales softly, acknowledging the unspoken approval, before turning her attention back to the king. "Of course, Your Majesty," she responds, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest.
"You can take a walk for privacy if needed," her father adds, offering an escape from the prying eyes of the court.
"Allow me the honor of escorting you to the imperial garden, Your Majesty," Elsie dares, her voice trembling with a mixture of reverence and apprehension, she doesn't want to talk to the King of Leivca in front of her father. She rises to her feet, her heart pounding against the confines of her chest like a prisoner seeking escape.
With a curt nod and nothing more, the king rises to his feet, his demeanor as inscrutable as the shadows cast by the setting sun. Elsie watches him with bated breath, every movement of the king intensifying the tension in the air, stirring apprehension within her like a tempest about to unleash its fury.
They walk alongside, the disparity in the size between them leaving Elsie's mouth dry, her heart quickening in the overwhelming presence of the king. With each step they take, the aura of power exuding from the monarch engulfs Elsie, wrapping her up in it, rendering her both awestruck and subdued, a mere mortal in the presence of a titan.
As they step into the chilly air, the King breaks the silence with a question that hangs heavy between them. "You are a widow too, like me?" His voice carries a familiarity of shared loss, echoed in the golden glow of the setting sun painting their faces and casting a somber light on the snow below, turning it a melancholic yellow.
But, Elsie isn't a widow.
The question takes Elsie off guard. Her, a widow? The thought lands like a sudden blow, stirring emotions she has long suppressed. A flicker of pain crosses her features, momentarily betraying the stoic facade she wears.
Bitterness seeps into her, Elsie can't help but wonder what the king truly knows about her before sealing their fates in marriage. Does the king see beyond the facade, beyond the titles and obligations, to the person beneath? Or is she merely a pawn in a game of politics and power, chosen for reasons Elsie can only begin to fathom?
"What do you know about me, my king, that led to your decision to marry me?" Elsie breathes, her gaze fixed on the horizon, heart clenching inside her chest, she tries hard for her scent to not be sour.
Elsie's long white hair sways in the breeze, a striking similarity to the wintry landscape. Despite her robe, the cold pierces through the fabric, biting her skin with its icy touch. Elsie notices the king's unease, a consequence of enduring the relentless weather for the sake of a conversation.
"You didn't even bother to know about me before entangling me in a marriage I don't want, My King," Elsie whispers into the cold air, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within her. She surprises herself with this sudden burst of courage, fueled by the injustice of being thrust into a union without considering her likes and desires.
Elsie hears a hitch in the king's breath, a fleeting vulnerability amidst the regal facade. "I didn't want this too," he confesses, his words carrying a weight of surrender and a hint of regret. In that moment, Elsie feels they share the same burden, both trapped by forces beyond their control.
Before she can fully process the revelation that the king, too, is a victim of the power that burdens them, Elsie's mind flashes back to the fateful night when her father delivered the declaration that she must marry the King of Leivca. The moment washes over her again, a reminder of the tangled web of politics and duty that leaves little space for personal dreams.
"You're the one who threatened war if I were to refuse to marry you," Elsie breathes out, disbelief coating her words like a bitter taste. The memory of the king's ultimatum looms larger than her life, fogging her brain.
A heavy sigh leaves the King's petal like pink lips, and Elsie can't help but let her eyes stray there for a moment long. "I had to," he confesses, the weight of responsibility evident in his voice.
In that moment, Elsie sees the burden of leadership and the hard choices made to preserve peace and stability, even at the cost of personal freedom through the glittery eyes of the King of Levica— her future husband.