Captive of Time

Chapter 8: The Future Princess Consort

Beifeles arrived far too late, missing the opening speeches, the performances, and the ball. By now, the guests had scattered, some in the gardens, others in the banquet hall or the dance floor, with small groups of light elves conversing and enjoying the evening.

Accompanied by Vanna, Beifeles made his way toward the banquet hall, surrounded by a few light elf nobles. He intended to make a brief appearance, have a drink, and leave.

He found the entire event tiresome. On such a beautiful night, he would have preferred to be curled up in bed with his dark elf, enjoying the warmth of their private world. Instead, he was there, standing around listening to hollow exchanges, all the while worrying about having to rise early the next day for the council reports.

Suddenly, his steps faltered. A familiar figure appeared in front of him—a handsome light elf whose eyes lit up with joy upon seeing him. The elf quickly excused himself from his companions and headed straight for Beifeles.

This was the eldest grandson of the Turner family, the "future princess consort" Beifeles had casually chosen from his grandfather's recommendations half a month ago.

Though the marriage had yet to be formalized, word had already spread. At the very least, this young man, Hellidan, and most well-informed light elves knew that Prince Beifeles had selected him as his future companion.

It was said that Turner Manor had seen a sudden influx of visitors these past few days.

Beifeles hadn’t given much thought to the person he’d picked to be his future consort, let alone anticipated running into him at the ball. Yet, in this moment, he found himself fervently hoping that Hellidan wouldn’t come over. He couldn’t explain why, but the very idea unsettled him.

Hellidan, however, clearly had other ideas.

After learning the news, he had waited for the prince to invite him out or explain the situation, but no such invitation had come. He wasn’t even sure why he had been chosen. He’d taken the initiative to invite Beifeles out twice for dinner, and they’d also attended the latest opera together, but Beifeles had remained distant.

Hellidan had expected this aloofness from the prince, knowing his reputation, but it became clear that Beifeles harbored no romantic feelings towards him. Why Beifeles had chosen him remained a mystery, though it certainly wasn’t out of affection.

But Hellidan didn’t mind. Beifeles was poised to be the next elven king, admired for his political acumen, unmatched skills, and striking appearance, with his alluring golden hair and eyes. There simply wasn’t a better match in all the realms.

Regardless of the prince's feelings, it was Beifeles who had chosen him. Hellidan wasn’t about to give up that opportunity. He frequently initiated conversations and invited Beifeles out, and while the prince never seemed eager, he also never refused. So when Hellidan spotted Beifeles at the ball, he immediately made his way over.

Beifeles thought for a moment, then nodded and smiled at Hellidan before taking Vanna’s hand and heading in the opposite direction. Any light elf with proper manners would understand that as a polite dismissal and not follow.

He didn’t notice the darkening of Vanna’s eyes beside him.

Hellidan, however, interpreted the greeting differently. After all, he had been waiting for this moment, and he quickly maneuvered through the crowd to intercept Beifeles, placing a hand over his heart in a formal bow. "Your Highness, it’s a pleasure to see you tonight. I’m at your service."

Beifeles wasn’t sure how to convey his lack of interest in dealing with Hellidan right now. With little choice, he walked side by side with his would-be consort, engaging in idle conversation as they made their way to the garden.

After all, Hellidan was his chosen companion, and while Beifeles was willing to make an effort to get along with him, he simply wasn’t in the mood tonight.

Vanna, silently, trailed two steps behind them.

Fortunately, his father’s intervention came at the perfect moment. The royal steward rushed over to Beifeles, bowing respectfully. "Your Highness, the king awaits you in the study. He wishes to discuss something important."

Beifeles turned to Hellidan with a polite, apologetic smile. "I’m sorry, I have to leave for a moment."

Hellidan understood at once and graciously accepted the apology.

Beifeles then turned to Vanna. "Vanna, wait here for me."

He hesitated, then changed his mind. "On second thought, come with me. Wait outside the studies."

Previous experience had taught him well. His dark elf was far too attractive—a vulnerable, powerless creature with no status. Beifeles couldn’t bear to leave Vanna alone.

"No need," Vanna smiled. "I’ll wait here. The air is pleasant. Don’t worry, no one will come near."

After some thought, Beifeles agreed but still felt uneasy. He instructed the steward, "You stay here. No one is to approach."

Satisfied, he headed toward the building where the king’s study was located.

The king wished to discuss the dark elf rebels. After the council meeting, it was decided that the Narciss family’s forces would lead the suppression effort. It was meant to be a swift and decisive victory. Yet the latest reports told a different story—Narciss’s army had suffered a crushing defeat.

The head of the Narciss family couldn’t believe it, sending a letter to the king requesting another chance to restore their honor. He also insinuated that there may have been a traitor within their ranks, subtly accusing the Manda family, who had also vied for the chance to quash the rebellion.

Father and son, however, were more concerned with the political rivalry between the Narciss and Manda families than the dark elf rebels themselves.

Once their discussion was concluded, Beifeles rushed back to where he had left Vanna, only to see Hellidan standing alarmingly close to his dark elf, holding Vanna’s hand. Vanna's expression was one of barely concealed restraint.

In a flash, Beifeles darted forward, pulling them apart and wrapping Vanna in his arms.

"I don’t allow anyone to touch him," Beifeles said firmly to Hellidan, his brow furrowed. "Not even you, my dear."

"I hope you remember that."

Hellidan, taken aback, stared at them in stunned silence before offering a hurried apology and quickly departing.

The steward also rushed forward to plead for forgiveness. Since Hellidan had already been present and aware of his relationship with Beifeles, the steward hadn’t thought it necessary to stop him. But he had misjudged the situation, incurring the prince’s wrath.

Beifeles nodded, dismissing the steward before turning back to Vanna, gently kissing his hand. He knew Vanna detested being touched by others.

"That man is your fiancé?" Vanna asked evenly. He wasn’t even sure how he managed to utter the words.

"Yes," Beifeles hesitated but admitted the truth. From the moment Hellidan appeared, he knew he couldn’t hide it from his dark elf.

"But I won’t let him touch you. No one else can touch you—no matter who I marry." He tilted his head, planting a tender kiss on Vanna’s finely chiseled chin. "You belong to me alone."

Vanna closed his eyes.

Beifeles, usually so high and mighty, rarely made such an effort to please him. Every time it happened, Vanna's heart softened, making him feel as if he would gladly give Beifeles the world. Yet this time, he kept his face impassive, avoiding the prince’s gaze.

Beifeles chuckled, leaning against Vanna, pressing kisses to his chest through the fabric of his clothing. "What’s wrong, my love? Are you jealous? Because I called him dear, or because I’m going to marry him? Or perhaps because I neglected you earlier?"

"You rarely sulk like this, Vanna," he teased, as if none of the previous events were of any consequence.

The golden lashes of the light elf lowered as he embraced Vanna, resting his face against his dark elf’s heart. "Don’t be like this. I’ve told you—nothing will change, even if I marry. We’ll stay just as we are."

Vanna remained silent.

"I mean, what else can I do?" Beifeles sighed, a trace of impatience in his voice. This was the first time he had lowered himself to soothe someone so earnestly. Glancing up at Vanna, he laughed lightly. "I can’t exactly marry you, can I?"

Vanna’s body tensed, his left hand clenching into a fist, but Beifeles didn’t notice.

He pulled Vanna under the tall laurel tree, closing his eyes and offering his lips. This was his final attempt to reconcile. If Vanna refused him now, there was nothing more he could do.

But he didn’t have to wait long. Soon enough, Vanna bent down and kissed him, just like before.