The crowns arrival .
998 Words
Selene stood frozen at the top of the stairs as she watched from the balcony, her fingers digging into the banister. Below, the front doors were already open, sunlight spilling across polished marble as black luxury cars came to a smooth stop outside.
The Crowns had arrived.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Servants moved quickly, lining up like they were welcoming royalty. Lucia stood at the front, her smile poised and flawless, one hand resting proudly on Selene’s father’s arm. Lysandra clung to her mother’s side, dressed in ivory silk, her hair styled perfectly in updo, every inch the picture of a dutiful daughter.
They looked like a family blessed by fortune.
Selene felt like a ghost haunting the edges of their perfection.
The doors opened.
Elias Crowns entered first.
He wore a dark suit custom made to precision, his presence commanding the room without effort. Behind him walked his parents, elegant, reserved and then his grandfather, leaning lightly on a cane carved with intricate designs. His sharp eyes missed nothing.
Servants stepped forward with gifts.
A velvet box was placed gently on the table. Lucia’s breath caught when it opened . inside lay an antique necklace, diamonds subtle but unmistakably priceless. Another servant followed with rare wine, documents bound in leather, symbols of wealth disguised as courtesy.
“This is too generous,” Selene’s father said, smiling broadly.
Elias inclined his head slightly. “A future alliance deserves respect.”
His gaze swept the room once more.
Then paused.
One brow lifted almost imperceptibly.
“Is someone missing?” Elias asked calmly.
The room stiffened.
Lucia laughed softly, too quickly. “Our younger daughter will be down shortly. She’s… overwhelmed.”
Elias’s eyes cooled.
“I would prefer to meet my fiancée,” he said.
“Now.”
Silence fell like a blade.
Selene Comes Down Late
Selene’s breath trembled as she took her first step down the stairs.
Every eye turned to her.
She wore a simple dress. nothing like Lysandra’s elegance and suddenly felt painfully out of place. Her pulse roared in her ears as she descended slowly, each step heavier than the last.
Her father’s smile tightened.
“You should know better than to keep our guests waiting, Selene,” he said sharply, though his tone stayed polite for appearances.
Lucia sighed, shaking her head. “She’s always been… sensitive.”
Lysandra stepped forward, voice gentle, hand squeezing her mother’s arm.
“She didn’t mean any harm, She gets nervous so easily.”
Perfect daughter. Perfect family.
Selene clenched her fists.
Before her father could speak again, Elias moved.
“There’s no need to scold her,” he said mildly.
Every head snapped toward him.
He looked at Selene then slow, deliberate, possessive. His gaze lingered as if he were already memorizing her.
“She won’t be late again once she’s mine,” Elias continued calmly.
Selene’s stomach dropped.
Then he turned to her parents, voice smooth and unwavering.
“I’ll take very good care of my wife.”
The words echoed in the room.
Selene laughed soft, sharp, bitter.
She lifted her chin and met his eyes.
“Is that supposed to comfort me,” she asked coolly,
“or scare me?”
A sharp inhale rippled through the room.
“Selene!” Lucia hissed.
But Elias smiled.
Not kindly.
“Both,” he said quietly, only for her.
Then, louder performative, polished:
“You raised her well,” he said to her parents.
“She has spirit. I value that.”
Lucia beamed. Selene’s father straightened, pride replacing doubt.
Selene felt the walls closing in.
Elias stepped closer and extended his arm.
Not a request.
“Shall we sit,” he said smoothly,
“my fiancée?”
The word tightened around her throat.
For a heartbeat, Selene hesitated.
Then because every eye was watching she placed her hand on his arm.
His fingers closed over hers.
Firm. Certain.
The Lunch:
The long dining table gleamed beneath soft chandeliers, set with fine china and silver cutlery polished to perfection. Everyone took their seats with practiced ease, as though this meeting had been rehearsed long before Selene had ever been informed.
Elias seated Selene beside him without asking.
His hand brushed the small of her back brief, deliberate before he pulled out her chair. The touch sent a shiver down her spine.
Across the table, his mother smiled warmly.
“You must be Selene,” she said, her voice gentle. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Selene stiffened. “All good things, I hope.”
Elias answered for her.
“She’s modest,” he said lightly. “One of her better traits.”
Her fingers curled around her napkin.
Lunch was served course after course of carefully chosen dishes. Conversation flowed easily between the families, circling around business, legacy, and the advantages of the union.
Selene stayed quiet.
She nodded when spoken to, smiled when expected, and said nothing more than politeness required. Every word tasted like surrender.
Elias noticed.
Of course he did.
“You’ve hardly touched your food,” he remarked casually, lifting his glass. “Are you always this shy, or is it just around your husband?”
Heat crawled up Selene’s neck.
“I’m listening,” she replied evenly. “That seems more important.”
His lips twitched.
“Good,” Elias said. “You’ll need that skill.”
His mother laughed softly, mistaking tension for playfulness.
“You two already sound like an old married couple,” she said fondly. “Selene, dear, if he ever overwhelms you, do tell me. Elias forgets his manners sometimes.”
Selene blinked, surprised.
“That’s because she enjoys pretending she’s unaffected,” Elias replied smoothly, cutting into his meal. “Don’t you?”
She shot him a glare.
“I enjoy silence,” Selene said coolly.
“Liar,” he murmured, only loud enough for her to hear. “You’re screaming inside.”
Her grip tightened on her fork.
- Writer
