The Gilded Bride

Chapter 11: Sunshine and lonely moonlight

Morning sunlight spilled softly through the tall arched windows of Princess Elowen’s chambers, warm golden rays stretching across polished floors and tangled blankets.

For once, she slept peacefully.

No dreams of Norwasia.

No punishments.

No cold marble rooms or cruel laughter echoing through palace halls.

Only quiet darkness.

Which was perhaps why the sudden cheerful voice startled her so badly.

“Your Majesty?”

Elowen stirred faintly beneath the blankets.

“Your Majesty, please wake up before breakfast grows cold.”

The voice.

Familiar.

Warm.

Bright.

Elowen blinked slowly against the sunlight before turning toward the sound.

And froze.

“Edna?”

The servant girl beamed immediately.

“There you are!”

For several seconds, Elowen genuinely thought she was still dreaming.

Because standing near the breakfast table with an armful of neatly folded dresses and books was indeed Edna.

Alive.

Smiling.

Real.

Elowen pushed herself upright too quickly, nearly tangling herself in blankets.

“You are here.”

Edna laughed softly.

“Yes?”

“You came back.”

Something fragile crossed Elowen’s face then.

Relief.

Real relief.

Edna noticed immediately, and guilt struck her chest sharply.

“Oh no,” she whispered softly.

The servant quickly set the folded clothes aside before hurrying toward the bedside.

“Your Majesty, please do not look at me like that.”

Elowen blinked in confusion.

Edna suddenly dropped to her knees.

“I am so sorry.”

The words came out rushed and emotional.

Elowen startled immediately.

“Edna?”

“I should never have listened to those rumors. I should never have acted cold toward you.”

The servant lowered her head deeply.

“I behaved terribly.”

Elowen stared at her, bewildered.

Slowly, she climbed out of bed and knelt slightly beside the girl.

“What rumors?”

Edna hesitated.

Then looked deeply ashamed.

“They said you hated Delmatia.”

Elowen blinked.

“What?”

“They said you mocked the servants. That you believed yourself above everyone here.”

Edna’s voice trembled softly.

“They said you planned to manipulate the king against the people.”

Shock spread slowly across Elowen’s face.

“What nonsense…”

“I know that now.”

Edna’s eyes glistened with guilt.

“But at the time… everyone believed it.”

Elowen sat back slowly against the edge of the bed.

So that was why.

Why the servants avoided her.

Why they suddenly became distant.

Why she felt eyes following her with suspicion.

The realization hurt more than expected.

Not because strangers believed poorly of her.

She was used to that.

But because for a brief moment,

she thought perhaps she had finally done something wrong again without realizing it.

And somehow that fear hurt more than the rumors themselves.

“Who spread this?” Elowen asked quietly.

Edna shook her head quickly.

“No one knows exactly.”

Elowen frowned faintly.

“The kitchen staff heard it from an apprentice,” Edna explained. “The apprentice claimed another servant mentioned it first.”

Everything vague.

Everything whispered.

Carefully spread.

Elowen lowered her gaze slightly.

Maria.

The thought came immediately now.

And somehow it hurt.

Because part of her still wanted to believe Maria innocent.

Even after everything.

“I am sorry,” Edna whispered again.

This time Elowen reached forward quickly, gently stopping the girl from bowing further.

“You do not need to kneel.”

“But I mistreated you.”

“You believed what everyone else believed.”

“That is not an excuse.”

“No,” Elowen admitted softly. “But it makes sense.”

Edna looked heartbroken by that answer somehow.

“You are too kind.”

Elowen almost laughed at the statement.

If only Edna knew how often kindness had been mistaken for weakness in Norwasia.

Still,

warmth slowly returned to the room for the first time in weeks.

Edna helped prepare breakfast while talking nervously the entire time, as though trying to make up for every silent day before.

And Elowen listened quietly.

Comfortably.

The familiarity soothed something lonely inside her chest.

Eventually, however, another realization surfaced.

“You are the only one who returned.”

Edna hesitated.

Then nodded carefully.

Elowen looked toward her.

“What happened to the others?”

“The king reassigned them.”

“Dismissed them?”

“No!” Edna answered quickly. “No one was punished severely. They were simply given work outside the royal palace.”

Elowen relaxed slightly at that.

Though confusion lingered.

“Why was only I brought back?”

Edna blinked.

Then smiled awkwardly.

“I may have cried.”

Elowen stared.

“A lot.”

Despite herself, Elowen laughed softly.

A real laugh.

Small.

Gentle.

But real enough that Edna looked momentarily victorious.

“There,” Edna declared proudly. “You should do that more often.”

Elowen shook her head faintly.

But something inside her felt lighter.

Just slightly.

And throughout the day, she found herself glancing toward the growing pile of books near her window.

The new books.

The ones King Demitri had sent personally.

Trade negotiations.

Political strategy.

Economic reform theories.

Even maritime military records.

He remembered exactly what she liked.

The realization lingered strangely in her chest.

---

Night arrived quietly.

And with it,

anticipation.

Elowen hated realizing it.

Hated it even more when she caught herself glancing repeatedly toward the chamber doors after dinner.

Waiting.

For him.

The realization embarrassed her deeply.

Surely she only wished to thank him.

For Edna.

For the books.

For not punishing the guards.

That was all.

Nothing more.

Absolutely nothing more.

Still…

midnight approached.

And the king never came.

By the time the palace bells rang softly through the night air, disappointment settled uncomfortably in her chest.

Elowen frowned at herself immediately.

Ridiculous.

Why should it matter whether he came or not?

He was king.

He had responsibilities.

He could not spend every evening wandering gardens with her.

And yet,

the room felt strangely emptier tonight.

Elowen closed her book with a sigh.

Perhaps a walk would help clear her thoughts.

Quietly, she crossed toward the open window and descended carefully down the hidden stone steps once more.

The night air greeted her softly.

Cool.

Fresh.

Moonlight bathed the gardens in silver again while lanterns flickered gently among flowered pathways.

Beautiful.

Peaceful.

Lonely.

Elowen wandered slowly through the gardens, hands clasped lightly before her as soft grass brushed beneath her slippers.

Every few moments,

she glanced around unconsciously.

Searching.

For dark clothing.

Silver eyes.

A tall figure hidden beneath shadows.

Nothing.

The realization saddened her more than expected.

Elowen sighed softly.

“It is only because I did not thank him properly,” she whispered aloud to herself.

Nothing more.

Certainly not because she enjoyed his company.

Not because conversations with him no longer frightened her quite as much.

Not because his presence somehow made the palace feel less isolating.

No.

Impossible.

Elowen knew nothing about matters of the heart.

And so she continued walking alone beneath the moonlight,

completely unaware that on the opposite side of the gardens, Demitri watched her from the shadows once again.

---

King Demitri had spent the entire day deliberately avoiding her.

Which only made things worse.

By evening, he realized he had reread the same military report four separate times without remembering a single word.

Annoying.

Caion’s stupid observations lingered unpleasantly in his mind.

You are becoming very invested in your wife.

Ridiculous.

Demitri paced slowly across his private study, jaw tight with irritation.

He did not understand this fixation forming around her.

Why he noticed whether she ate properly.

Why he remembered which books interested her.

Why empty gardens suddenly bothered him.

Or why seeing genuine fear in her eyes sparked immediate anger inside him.

None of it made sense.

She was Norwasian.

Daughter of his enemy.

And yet…

she was unlike every noblewoman he had ever known.

Quiet where others boasted.

Thoughtful where others manipulated.

Intelligence without arrogance.

Too forgiving.

Far too forgiving.

The image of her pleading for the servants’ positions returned sharply to his mind.

God.

Who pleads for people who abandoned them?

Demitri exhaled sharply.

Perhaps Caion was right.

Perhaps somewhere along the way he had developed a soft spot for the princess of Norwasia.

The realization unsettled him deeply.

So he avoided her.

Deliberately.

No visits.

No midnight walks.

No excuses to stand inside her chambers staring at economics books while pretending not to notice the color of her eyes.

It should have worked.

Instead, midnight arrived and Demitri found himself standing at the garden balcony overlooking the pathways below.

Waiting.

Like a fool.

Then,

she appeared.

Elowen stepped quietly into the gardens dressed in pale silver-blue, red hair glowing beneath moonlight like embers.

And immediately, something inside Demitri settled.

Relief.

Warm and dangerous.

He hated it instantly.

Still,

he remained where he was hidden among shadows, silently observing her wander through the gardens alone.

She looked peaceful tonight.

But also sad somehow.

Every so often she glanced around the pathways.

Searching.

Demitri frowned faintly.

Searching for what?

Then suddenly,

something ugly twisted sharply in his chest.

Because she continued strolling alone without attempting to find him.

Without waiting for him.

The realization irritated him irrationally.

Why should she?

He was the one avoiding her.

Still,

watching her move through the gardens alone sparked something unpleasantly bitter beneath his ribs.

Possessive.

The thought horrified him immediately.

Ridiculous.

She was simply walking.

And yet,

he found himself irritated by her calmness.

As though she had already adjusted to his absence.

Meanwhile, unknown to him,

Elowen felt miserable herself.

Eventually, she disappeared back toward the tower staircases.

Demitri watched the empty gardens several moments longer before finally turning away.

Only for a sudden reckless idea to strike him.

A few minutes later,

he stood inside Elowen’s chambers waiting silently near the fireplace.

The room remained dimly lit by candlelight, shadows dancing softly across towering bookshelves and velvet curtains.

Then the window opened quietly.

And Elowen climbed inside.

The moment her slippers touched the floor, she froze.

Because Demitri stood directly across the room watching her.

Elowen nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Your Majesty,!”

Demitri’s gaze drifted slowly toward the still-open window.

Then toward the hidden staircase beyond it.

Understanding dawned across his face.

Slowly,

dangerously slowly,

a smirk tugged faintly at his mouth.

“So,” he said calmly, “that is how you sneak into the gardens every night.”

Elowen’s eyes widened instantly.

And for the first time in weeks,

Demitri looked genuinely entertained.