⊱⋅ ───── 🍂 ───── ⋅⊰
As the days passed, Lysander's stubbornness proved to be as unyielding as ever. Despite William's best efforts to persuade him otherwise, Lysander returned to his duties with a determination that bordered on reckless. While he may have agreed to refrain from participating in nightly patrols, his presence was still keenly felt as he threw himself into the task of strategizing for their next mission.
But as Lysander threw himself into his leadership responsibilities, Elara found herself growing increasingly distant from the man she had once admired. Every time he attempted to approach her, she would offer a polite excuse and hurriedly make her escape, leaving Lysander to grapple with the palpable tension that hung between them.
It was a painful decision for Elara to make, but she knew that maintaining her distance was necessary for her own sanity. The ache in her heart had only grown more pronounced with each passing day, a constant reminder of the feelings she had tried so desperately to suppress.
Yet even as she distanced herself from Lysander, a part of her couldn't help but wonder if she was making a mistake. Despite everything, she still cared for him deeply, and the thought of losing him completely filled her with a sense of overwhelming sadness.
But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside, steeling herself against the ache in her heart. She couldn't afford to let her emotions cloud her judgment, not when so much was at stake. And so, with a heavy heart, she continued to keep her distance, hoping against hope that Lysander would eventually understand the reasons behind her actions.
As Elara bustled about the makeshift kitchen, the aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly baked bread filling the air, Amara's lively chatter served as a constant backdrop to her thoughts. Lost in her own world of flour and spices, she didn't notice Lysander's approach until he was standing right beside her, his presence impossible to ignore.
Startled, Elara glanced up from her cooking, her heart pounding in her chest as she met his gaze. "Lysander," she greeted, her voice betraying none of the turmoil that churned within her.
"Lovely morning, isn't it?" Lysander remarked, his tone casual as he leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving hers.
Elara forced a smile, though her heart hammered in her chest. "Yes, it is," she replied, her voice tinged with forced cheerfulness. "Can I help you with something?"
Lysander hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. "Actually, I was wondering if I could have a word with you," he began, his tone serious yet tinged with a hint of uncertainty.
Before Elara could respond, Amara, ever the opportunist, interjected with a grin plastered across her face. "Oh, of course, my lord! I'll leave you two alone to chat," she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Lysander chuckled softly at Amara's childish response, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he glanced at her.
Elara could feel her frustration mounting as Amara practically skipped away, leaving her alone with Lysander. She let out an exasperated grunt, her irritation bubbling to the surface as she shot Amara a pointed glare before turning her attention back to Lysander.
Elara's irritation quickly gave way to surprise as Lysander cleared his throat, his expression serious as he spoke. "I've missed your presence," he confessed, his voice tinged with sincerity.
The admission caught Elara off guard, her heart skipping a beat as she struggled to process his words. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, a flush of embarrassment washing over her as she fought to maintain her composure.
As she reached for a spatula to flip the sizzling eggs in the pan, her hand trembled slightly, the sudden surge of emotions making her movements clumsy. She cursed silently under her breath, cursing herself for being so affected by his words.
Lysander's gaze never wavered as he continued, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her heart race. "It feels like forever since I've seen you," he admitted, his tone soft yet filled with longing.
Elara's breath caught in her throat at his words, the weight of his confession hanging heavy in the air between them. She struggled to find the right response, her mind racing as she grappled with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. Elara's heart pounded in her chest, her mind reeling as she tried to make sense of Lysander's words. "You shouldn't have said that," she grumbled under her breath, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lysander furrowed his brow in confusion, his eyes searching hers for answers. "Why not?" he asked, his tone tinged with genuine curiosity. "I was just stating how I feel."
Elara felt a surge of frustration bubble up inside her, threatening to spill over at any moment. "Because..." she began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words. "Because things are complicated, Lysander." Elara's frustration simmered just beneath the surface as she met Lysander's gaze, her words tinged with a hint of desperation. "What makes you think that?" Lysander's brows furrowed in confusion, his expression earnest as he waited for her response.
Elara sighed, her shoulders sagging with the weight of her emotions. "Because if you keep behaving like this, it'll give me false hope," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't afford to let myself believe that there's something between us when there's not."
"Maybe— Maybe I want something to happen between us," Lysander challenged, his voice soft yet filled with conviction.
Elara's breath caught in her throat, her mind whirling with a flurry of conflicting emotions. She felt a surge of warmth blossom in her chest, mingled with a sense of fear and uncertainty.
"Stop saying nonsense," she grumbled, her voice tinged with frustration as she fought to push down the rising tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
But Lysander's gaze remained steady, his eyes filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "It's not nonsense, Elara," he insisted, his voice gentle yet unwavering. "I care about you more than you realize."
Lysander's words hung in the air, lingering between them like a delicate thread binding their hearts together. Elara felt a lump form in her throat as she gazed into his earnest eyes, her own emotions swirling in a tumultuous storm.
"I know I've never fallen in love before," Lysander continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "but I know what I feel for you is different. It's... deeper somehow."
Elara's heart skipped a beat at his confession, her mind racing as she tried to process the magnitude of his words. She had never allowed herself to entertain the possibility of love, not after the pain she had endured in the past. But with Lysander standing before her, baring his soul for her to see, she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope stirring within her.
With hesitant resolve, Lysander leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek as he whispered, "I hope... I hope you feel the same way, Elara."
Elara leaned her head into Lysander's touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against her skin as a sense of peace washed over her. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them enveloped in their own private cocoon of emotions.
"What about Emilia?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she dared to voice the question that had been weighing on her mind.
Lysander's brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze searching hers for understanding. "What about her?" he asked gently, his tone laced with genuine curiosity.
Elara swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to find the right words. "I'm aware of... the arrangement. Lysander—"
But before she could speak, Lysander reached out to gently cup her cheek, his touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across her skin. "Elara, I know what everyone expects of me," he confessed, his voice filled with quiet determination. "But when it comes to matters of the heart, I refuse to be bound by duty or tradition."
A surge of hope blossomed within Elara's chest, her breath catching in her throat as she dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for them after all.
"I don't need someone to dictate my future for me," Lysander continued, his voice soft yet filled with conviction. "I want to choose my own path, to find someone who makes my heart come alive."
As he spoke, Elara felt a rush of emotion swell within her, the walls around her heart crumbling in the face of his unwavering determination. She reached up to cover his hand with her own, her touch a silent affirmation of the bond that was forming between them.
"And who knows," Lysander added with a playful twinkle in his eye, "maybe that someone is closer than I think."
⊱⋅ ───── 🍂 ───── ⋅⊰
Amara's teasing smile was impossible to miss as she approached Elara, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Well, well, well, what's got you in such a good mood today?" she teased, her tone playful as she nudged Elara gently.
Elara felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment at Amara's observation, but she couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, attempting to play it cool despite the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach.
"Uh uh, you sure it has nothing to do with the prince over there?" Amara teased, her voice laced with amusement as she nudged Elara playfully, directing her attention towards Lysander and the other men working diligently.
Elara felt her cheeks flush with heat at Amara's pointed remark, her gaze darting nervously towards Lysander before quickly flicking away. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, attempting to feign nonchalance despite the telltale fluttering in her chest.
But Amara wasn't about to let her off the hook so easily, her grin widening as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, come on, Elara," she teased, her tone filled with playful exasperation. "Don't tell me you're not even a little bit smitten with our dear prince."
Elara's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red at Amara's words, her embarrassment threatening to consume her. "I-I assure you, it's nothing like that," she insisted, though the unconvincing tone of her voice betrayed her true feelings.
"Uh uh, sure," Amara grinned stupidly, enjoying Elara's discomfort. She then continued, "So, what are you going to prepare for tomorrow night?"
Elara raised her brows, her curiosity piqued. "Prepare what exactly?" she inquired, unsure of what Amara was getting at.
Amara's grin widened as she filled Elara in on the details. "Well, you know how ever since we migrated to this town, there's been a tradition where we celebrate after successful missions against the queen's guards," she explained, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Besides, it's one of the ways we lift everyone's spirits after what the queen has done to our people," she exclaimed, her excitement palpable.
Elara listened intently, her brow furrowing in thought as she absorbed Amara's words. "But why does the queen seem to harbor such hatred towards Lysander?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Amara leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper as she shared the rumors swirling around the supposed friendship between the queen and Lysander's late mother, Queen Guinevere. "There are whispers," she began, her tone hushed, "They were once close friends."
Elara's eyes widened in surprise at the revelation, her mind racing with the implications of such a connection. "Close friends?" she echoed, her voice barely audible as she struggled to process the news.
Amara nodded solemnly. "That's what the rumors say," she confirmed, her tone hushed as if afraid someone might overhear their conversation. "There's talk of a betrayal at the castle that led to the former queen's death. Some say it was orchestrated by the queen herself."
Elara's jaw tightened at the thought of such treachery, her heart heavy with sorrow for Lysander and his family. "And Lysander?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Does he know about this?"
Amara shook her head, a troubled expression clouding her features. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "But if he does, he's keeping it to himself. Lysander's always been tight-lipped about his family's past."
Elara's gaze lingered on Lysander, a faint pang of sympathy tugging at her heart as she watched him work alongside his men. From the moment they had met, she had sensed the weight of his burden, the invisible weight that seemed to hang heavy on his shoulders despite his attempts to hide it from the world.
Even now, as he diligently went about his duties, she could see the strain etched into the lines of his face, the weariness that seemed to lurk behind his eyes. It was a sight that had become all too familiar to her, a constant reminder of the struggles he faced on a daily basis.
Yet despite the hardships he endured, Lysander remained steadfast in his commitment to his people, his unwavering determination a testament to his strength of character. It was a quality that had drawn Elara to him from the very beginning, a magnetic pull that she found impossible to resist.
As she continued to watch him work, a sense of admiration welled up inside her, mingling with the complicated tangle of emotions that had taken root in her heart. She knew that she had made the right decision in following him, in standing by his side through thick and thin.
For better or for worse, she was determined to see this journey through to the end, to stand by Lysander's side no matter what challenges lay ahead.