Elysium: Desired by the Cold-hearted Princess [GL]

Electra’s POV

I stood there, staring at my father, trying to keep my hands from shaking. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Azaryon.

He said Azaryon’s name.

I felt like the air had been knocked out of me.

All this time, after everything that had happened between me and Azaryon in the other realm, not once did he mention being involved with my mother as more than a friend. Not once, and now my father casually drops his name like it’s nothing?

My chest tightened. I didn’t want to hear any more. I couldn’t. My brain was already spinning, and the more he talked, the harder it was to breathe.

I took a step back. "That’s enough," I said.

My father blinked. "What?"

"I said I’ve heard enough," I repeated, more firmly this time. "I can’t do this right now."

He looked confused, like he didn’t expect me to stop him. "Don’t you want to ask more questions?" he said. "I told you I’d be honest."

I laughed under my breath, shaking my head. "Honest? You think this makes up for everything?"

He flinched slightly, but I didn’t care.

"You’ve had twenty years to be honest," I continued. "Twenty years of silence, of letting Jella treat me like garbage, of acting like I wasn’t even yours, and turning a blind eye to everything. And now, suddenly, you’re ready to talk because you feel guilty?"

"I never—"

"Do you want me to win the tournament?" I cut in, not wanting to hear his excuses. "Yes or no?"

He looked at me for a moment, clearly caught off guard. "Of course, I do. You’re my daughter and my heir. I’ve never wanted anyone else."

"Then let’s end this conversation here," I said. "Let me focus on the tournament. Let me win, and after that, maybe I’ll come back. Maybe then, I’ll be ready to hear the rest."

His mouth opened slightly, like he wanted to argue, but I didn’t give him the chance.

"I need my head clear," I added. "And listening to you talk about how you stabbed my mother and let your wife treat me like I was nothing, yeah, that’s not helping."

I turned and took a few steps toward the door but stopped.

"When I come back," I said without looking at him, "you’ll tell me the truth. All of it, so until then, keep feeling miserable, Your Majesty."

I didn’t wait for a reply.

I walked out.

—

The palace halls were quiet as I left his room, and the cold air seemed to follow me as I left, clinging to my skin like a second layer of discomfort.

I passed one of the big portraits hanging in the hallway, the ones meant to show a perfect royal family. Jella in her crown, my father standing tall, and me, right in the middle. Smiling, as if I were happy, as if I belonged.

I stared at it for a second before looking away. That girl in the painting was most certainly not me. Not even close, and I couldn’t wait for the day I’d have the right to throw out every single one of these portraits.

I walked faster.

I didn’t stop until I stepped outside. The evening air was cold and sharp, but it helped. I pressed my hands into my hoodie pockets and forced myself to take a deep breath.

I couldn’t afford to think of anything or anyone else now. Not Azaryon, and why he told me my mother was only an old friend, not Jella, who was probably still seething with rage after what I did to her, and not my father.

I had three days until the tournament. Three days toshow the whole kingdom who I was and why I deserved to be the next queen. So I didn’t have time to deal with any more drama.

***

I was exhausted, not in the physical sense. I could walk, breathe, and function, but mentally, it felt like someone had dumped a mountain on my chest and told me to carry it around like it was nothing.

The moment the gates of Elysium came into view, I told the driver I didn’t want anyone escorting me inside.

I just needed to be alone, but of course, I couldn’t even have that.

Just as I stepped into the hallway, E’s voice pushed through my mind like an annoying whisper I couldn’t swat away.

"So, do you want me to talk now," she said, her tone surprisingly soft, "or should I wait till after the tournament?"

I rolled my eyes, already feeling the start of a headache. "Is it something that’s going to make me feel worse than I already do?" I asked under my breath, my voice low so the students passing by wouldn’t think I was losing my mind.

"Well," E replied, her tone hesitant, "it has to do with the conversation you just had with our father, and judging by how upset you are, I’m not sure it’ll make your mood any better."

I stopped walking for a second and just stood there, staring at the golden chandelier above like it would give me some kind of answer. My jaw clenched, and I let out a slow, tired breath.

"Then don’t say anything," I said flatly. "Not now. I’ve had enough truths for one day. Any more bad news and I might actually lose it."

E immediately went quiet, and I was thankful for it.

I finally got to my room, pushed the door open without a second thought, and paused.

Seraphina was there, sitting quietly on the sofa with a book open in her hands, but not really reading. She looked up the second I walked in, her eyebrows instantly pinching together with worry. Her voice came out soft, like she already knew the answer but was hoping I’d lie to her.

"How did it go with Queen Jella?"

I didn’t answer. Instead, I pulled my hands out of the front pocket of my hoodie, walked right up to her, and wrapped my arms around her.

Her body went still for a moment, and then her arms came around me tightly, holding me like she knew I was breaking inside.

"Just... tell me everything’s going to be fine," I whispered into her shoulder, barely holding back the sting in my eyes.

Seraphina didn’t say anything at first. She just held me closer, her hand stroking my back slowly like she was trying to calm a storm I hadn’t even voiced.

"It’s going to be fine," she said after a moment. "Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. It will be."

I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead into her shoulder. I didn’t want to cry. I really didn’t, but my throat was tight, and the burn behind my eyes was getting worse. I hated feeling this weak—this lost.

"I hate him," I whispered. "My father. I hate him so much, Seraphina."

She pulled back just enough to look me in the face, her fingers brushing against my cheek. "You don’t mean that."

"I do," I said. "I know I shouldn’t, but I do. He killed my mother. He admitted it. Said he regretted it every day, but does that fix anything? Does that bring her back?"

"No," she said softly, "it doesn’t."

I sat down beside her on the couch and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling like it had answers. "He said he did it because she told him the baby wasn’t his... that she was going to marry someone else, and instead of walking away, instead of letting her go... he stabbed her."

Seraphina’s hand found mine, her fingers intertwining with mine.

"He said he tried to save her," I continued, my voice flat. "That he instantly regretted it, but by the time he came to his senses, she was already dying."

Seraphina didn’t try to tell me he meant well. She didn’t try to make it better, and that was one of the reasons I loved her. She just listened.

"I’ve been walking around that palace for years, trying to prove myself to people who never gave a damn," I muttered. "And now? Now I find out that my entire life was ruined because of his jealousy."

I let out a bitter laugh. "I don’t even know what to do anymore."

"Yes, you do," Seraphina said gently, squeezing my hand. "You’re going to win that tournament, and after that, you’re going to make this kingdom your own, and nobody, not Jella, not your father, not anyone, is going to take that from you."

I turned to look at her, and for a moment, everything else faded. The lies, the anger, the confusion. All I saw was her, and even though I was still a mess, I felt like I could breathe just a little easier with her next to me.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "For being here."

"I’ll always be here," she replied, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

I smiled faintly and leaned into her touch. "I don’t deserve you."

"Maybe not," she teased softly, "but you’ve got me anyway."