In the Shadow of the Crown

Eliza’s heart pounded against her ribs as Elric’s fingers curled around hers, his grip deceptively light, yet unyielding. His eyes, sharp and assessing, pinned her in place, drinking in her hesitation, her uncertainty.

[Mine.]                       

The word echoed in her mind, a haunting whisper that did not belong to him alone.

She pulled her hand free, carefully, deliberately. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Elric’s smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened, his amusement laced with something darker. “Is that so?” His gaze flickered back to the bruise on her neck, his expression unreadable.

Eliza swallowed the sharp retort rising in her throat. This was not the time to show weakness. Not when she had just escaped one cage only to walk into another.

[Think, Eliza. Be smart.]

She turned away from him, gathering what remained of her composure, but before she could step inside, a familiar voice cut through the tense silence.

“Your Grace.”

The butler. Loyal. Observant. He inclined his head with perfect decorum, though his gaze darted between them with wary precision. “A letter arrived for you not long ago.”

Eliza exhaled. [A distraction. Good.

She accepted the envelope, breaking the wax seal with a practiced motion. The elegant script was unmistakable.

An invitation.

Her stomach twisted as she read.

A grand banquet. Hosted by the royal court. A gathering of nobles, warlords, and aristocrats each with their own ambitions, their own games to play.

And she was expected to attend.

Of course she was.

A marriage contract between her and Elric had been signed. The court would want to see her. They would want to measure her, whisper about her, dissect every glance, every touch exchanged between her and the man they now believed to be her rightful fiancé.

But Eliza was no fool.

This was more than just a formal event. It was a stage.

A battlefield dressed in silk and gold.

She glanced up, meeting Elric’s gaze. He had already read the meaning behind her expression, his smirk a knowing thing. “How fortunate,” he murmured. “I had planned to announce our engagement soon. This gives us the perfect opportunity.”

Eliza’s grip on the parchment tightened. “You assume too much.”

He chuckled, stepping closer, his voice lowering just enough that only she could hear. “Do I? You can defy me in private all you like, but at court…” His fingers brushed against her wrist, a fleeting touch, but a promise nonetheless. “You will smile. You will dance. You will play the role of my devoted betrothed.”

Eliza’s blood ran cold. “And if I refuse?”

Elric tilted his head, feigning consideration. “Then you might find the king far less patient than I am.”

[A threat.]

Subtle, elegant, but no less real.

Eliza knew she had little choice. Refusing to attend would not only disgrace her family but invite dangerous questions, questions that could unravel everything she had worked to protect.

[Very well, then.]

If she was to walk into a viper’s den, she would do so with her head held high.

And she would not be the prey.

“Fine,” she said, her voice steady. “But make no mistake, Elric…I am not yours. Not now. Not ever.”

For the first time that evening, something flickered in his gaze. A brief crack in his carefully maintained façade.

Then, he smiled.

“Oh, Eliza.” His voice was like silk over steel. “You really think you have a choice.”

She turned on her heel and strode into the house, never looking back.

But deep down, she knew.@@novelbin@@

Elric was not the only one she would have to face at that banquet.

Raen would be there too.

And war… war was inevitable.