Elsie's eyes widen in disbelief as the king continues to shake his head, muttering underneath his breath in a desperate attempt to deny the reality of what just happened. The sight of the once-commanding figure reduced to a trembling, murmuring shadow of his former self sends a chill down Elsie's spine, the fragility that lurks beneath the facade of power and authority surfacing.
Despite herself, Elsie's heart twinges with sympathy at the sight of the king so shaken and quivering, chanting "no, no, no" under his breath. It stirs something deep within her, an undying urge to comfort and soothe, even in the face of his past aggression. Her omega whines within her, yearning to be near the king and offer solace, catching Elsie off guard with its intensity. Perhaps it's her innate empathy calling out to her, or maybe it's the complexity of emotions that bind them together in this moment. Elsie can't quite decipher it, but one thing is certain: despite the king's earlier attack, a part of her longs to reach out and offer reassurance.
The conflicting emotions swirling within Elsie terrify her like no other. The urge to reach for the King and comfort him, despite the recent violence, fills her with a sense of vulnerability and confusion. Caught between empathy and self-preservation, Elsie grapples with the unsettling realization that her heart may not always align with her rational mind, leaving her adrift in a sea of uncertainty.
"Your Majesty?" Elsie tries calling out, her voice tentative as she takes hesitant steps closer to the king's shaking form. Despite the lingering fear and uncertainty, a flicker of concern makes her step forward, her desire to offer comfort to her trembling betrothed leading her way.
Elsie looks around warily, a knot of apprehension tightening in her stomach as she scans their surroundings. She hates the thought of anyone witnessing the king in this vulnerable state, exposed and shaken. Elsie moves closer in urgency to shield the king from prying eyes.
"Your Majesty?" Elsie reaches out, her touch gentle as she places a hand on the king's shoulder. The king flinches back, his eyes widening as they meet Elsie's. In those midnight black eyes, Elsie witnesses an unexpected flicker of fear, and it surprises her. The sight of fragility in the usually stoic king unsettles Elsie. She withdraws her hand just as fast, the last thing she wants to do at this moment is to make her fiance feel more pressured and uncomfortable.
"Ace?" a voice echoes through the air, and Elsie whirls around on her feet, her gaze slicing through the space to lock onto the woman standing a few feet away. Her aged face pales dramatically at the sight before her, the color draining from her features as her eyes widen in shock and concern, etching lines of worry and fear into the creases of her weathered skin.
When Elsie looks back at the king, she finds him still mumbling under his breath, his hands clutching his head as if trying to ward off some unseen misery. His spine curves, the weight of whatever burden he carries bowing him beneath its crushing weight. The sight pierces Elsie's heart with a pang of ache. She aches to offer solace to the once-powerful figure now reduced to a trembling shell of his former self.
Elsie's hands fly up to clench the clothings over her chest, the sight is too painful to watch. She doesn't even know this man, but that doesn't make this hurt any less. She shouldn't have said something like that. Elsie shouldn't have asked him such a horrible thing. Who else in their right mind would do such an insane thing as kill their own wife?
Elsie shouldn't have been so mean and inconsiderate.
The woman, which Elsie thinks is one of Ace's close relatives, maybe his aunt, comes forward with her paling face, rushing toward them. "My, my, my! What's going on here? Oh moon, Ace?" Her slightly wrinkled hands close over the King's bicep. And just like when Elsie tried to touch him, the King flinched back, but his scared eyes fell on his aunt. The crease on his forehead easing in the slightest as he holds her worried gaze.
The King's eyes are blown wide as if he saw some ghoul and he's looking in the thin air as if something's there — wait. Is— is it true that the man still tends to see his late wife's ghost even after all these years. Elsie's eyes go round, disbelief colouring her face as her gaze travels from her betrothed to his aunt who is now trying to take him in her warm embrace. "Oh my boy, it's nothing. You're here with me, Ace. Nothing's wrong child." She's saying in this motherly voice which is so tender and loving, her pliant hand keeps running up and down the man's back and Elsie feels as if she is witnessing something that's not for her eyes.
Elsie was not supposed to see this. She was not to see this vulnerable side of a king who's known to not fear the moon goddess herself.
It takes some time for the King of Lievca to come back to his senses, for his mumblings to reduce into nothingness. He's still a little shaky, though. Ace's eyes cut to her the moment he regained his composure, and there's fear in his eyes as if he's scared Elsie will not give her hand in this marriage after she got to see this side of him. His jaw is clenched but there's this misery oozing out of him that makes Elsie want to unravel everything that he's and to get to know the real him. She believes no one deserved this kind of pain even though she just got assaulted by him a few minutes ago.
Elsie wants to ask if he's alright, but something in her tells that it's not the right thing to ask. "Should we go inside?" She asks instead.
Ace doesn't offer her any word, his stare intense as he nods his head curtly before cutting his eyes to his aunt and says, "I'm alright."
She shouldn't, but Elsie feels like that's for her.