The Crown He Never Wanted

The first time Elarisse Vayne met Vaelorian Draven, she decided two things. First, the man was ridiculously handsome. Second, he was probably the most unpleasant human being to have ever walked the earth. Unfortunately, the second discovery came before she had finished appreciating the first. But perhaps the story should begin a little earlier. At exactly 7:43 on a Monday morning, Elarisse Vayne was having a serious argument with her alarm clock. "Five more minutes." The alarm continued screaming. "Please. I'm begging you." It screamed louder. Elarisse opened one eye, stared at the offensive little device and finally slapped it with the determination of someone defending her entire bloodline. Silence. Beautiful, peaceful silence. She smiled. Then she looked at the time. 8:17 A.M. Her smile disappeared. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Within thirty seconds, her bedroom became a crime scene. One shoe was beneath her bed, the other had mysteriously disappeared. Her lecture notes were scattered across the floor, her hairbrush was missing, and the toast she had prepared the previous night was still sitting untouched on her bedside table. "Elarisse!" her roommate, Nivara, shouted from the bathroom. "Are you alive?" "No!" "Should I call someone?" "Call the university and tell them to postpone my education!" Nivara laughed. Elarisse grabbed the nearest pair of shoes, which unfortunately did not match, shoved her notebook into her bag and rushed out. She had been at Velmont University for barely two weeks, and she was already developing a reputation for arriving everywhere approximately three minutes before disaster. Velmont was not an ordinary university. Its buildings looked as though they had been borrowed from an old European royal family. Marble staircases, enormous libraries, perfectly maintained gardens and expensive cafés occupied almost every corner of the campus. The students were equally impressive. Some arrived in cars that probably cost more than the houses Elarisse had grown up in. Others wore watches whose prices she preferred not to investigate. And then there were people like her. People who had worked hard to earn their places there. Elarisse adjusted her bag and hurried towards the main academic building. "Please, please, please..." She checked her phone. 8:26. Her lecture started at 8:30. Perfect. She was going to make it. Or so she thought. Vaelorian Draven hated three things. Unnecessary conversations. People who confused confidence with arrogance. And being kept waiting. Unfortunately, the third offence was currently happening inside his father's private car. "Your father expects you at the family residence this evening," his driver, Mr. Alden, informed him. Vaelorian didn't look up from his tablet. "Then he should have informed me himself." "He did, sir." "Then you have successfully repeated information I already know." Mr. Alden said nothing. He had worked for the Draven family for eleven years. He had learned that arguing with the youngest Draven was an excellent way to develop a headache before breakfast. The car stopped outside the university's main building. Vaelorian stepped out, adjusted the cuff of his black shirt and glanced at his watch. 8:27. Three minutes before his first lecture. He preferred arriving early. It allowed him to settle down, review his notes and avoid the unnecessary chaos that seemed to follow university students everywhere. His phone vibrated. FATHER Dinner. Seven o'clock. Don't make me repeat myself. Vaelorian stared at the message. Then he locked his phone. He had spent twenty-two years being told what his future would look like. The family business. The family reputation. The family expectations. Sometimes he wondered whether his parents had ever considered that he might actually want a life of his own. He slipped his phone into his pocket and walked towards the entrance. That was when everything went wrong. Elarisse was running. Not walking quickly. Not jogging. Running. Her bag bounced against her hip as she hurried up the university steps, muttering several things that would have disappointed her mother. She turned the corner without looking. And collided with something solid. Or rather, someone. Her notebook flew out of her bag. Her phone landed somewhere near the staircase. And the iced coffee she had been carrying performed an impressive little dance before spilling across the front of an expensive black shirt. Silence. Complete, terrifying silence. Elarisse froze. Slowly, she lifted her head. A young man stood before her. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in black trousers and an expensive shirt that now had a very noticeable coffee stain. His dark hair was perfectly styled, although a few strands had fallen across his forehead. His jaw was sharp. His expression was colder than the university's air-conditioning. And his eyes... Oh. His eyes were beautiful. Unfortunately, they were currently looking at her as though she had personally ruined his entire existence. Elarisse blinked. Then looked at the coffee. Then back at him. "Oh." The young man's expression didn't change. "That's your explanation?" She swallowed. "Well, I was going to say good morning, but I think we've already established that it's not." He stared at her. She stared back. A second passed. Then another. "Do you always run into people without looking where you're going?" he asked. Elarisse frowned. "Do you always stand in people's way?" His eyebrows moved slightly. Interesting. Most people would have apologised repeatedly by now. She, apparently, had decided to negotiate. "You spilled coffee on me." "And you scared the life out of me." "That doesn't change the fact that you've ruined my shirt." She looked at the stain. Then at his face. "Well, congratulations. Now we're both having a difficult morning." For the first time, something shifted in his expression. Not quite amusement. More like disbelief. He looked down at her. "Do you have any idea how much this shirt costs?" Elarisse glanced at it again. "Not really. But judging by your attitude, I'm guessing it's worth a small village." He said nothing. She bent down to collect her scattered belongings. "Anyway, I'm sorry about your shirt. Genuinely. I didn't see you." She picked up her notebook and discovered that one of its pages had landed beneath his shoe. "Excuse me." He looked down. "Your foot." He moved. She retrieved the notebook, brushed it off and stood. Then she noticed the time. 8:31. Her eyes widened. "Oh, no." She hurried past him. "Wait." She stopped and turned. He gestured towards her phone, which was still lying on the ground. Elarisse stared at it. Then at him. "Oh! Thank you." She collected it. And before he could say anything else, she disappeared through the entrance. Vaelorian remained where he was. He looked at the coffee stain. Then at the staircase. Then at the direction she had disappeared. "Unbelievable," he muttered. He had just been insulted by a girl who had spilled coffee on him. And somehow, she had managed to leave the conversation looking as though he was the unreasonable one. Elarisse entered Lecture Hall B with approximately forty seconds of dignity remaining. She slipped into an empty seat near the back. Nivara, who was already seated beside the window, turned towards her. "You're late." "Thank you, Professor. I hadn't noticed." Nivara looked at her dishevelled hair. "What happened to you?" "An accident." "What kind?" "The kind that makes you question whether education is worth pursuing." Nivara laughed. Before Elarisse could explain further, the lecturer entered. "Good morning, everyone." The students responded. "Good morning, sir." The lecturer placed his materials on the desk. "Before we begin, I have an announcement. We will be working on a semester-long research project. Students will be assigned partners, and the groups will remain unchanged until the end of the semester." A few students groaned. Elarisse leaned towards Nivara. "Please let me get someone normal." Nivara whispered, "Your definition of normal is questionable." "Silence at the back," the lecturer warned. Both girls immediately faced forward. The lecturer began reading the names. One pair after another. Then— "Miss Elarisse Vayne." Elarisse raised her hand. "Here, sir." "You'll be working with..." He glanced down at his paper. "Mr. Vaelorian Draven." Elarisse stopped breathing. Slowly, she turned towards Nivara. Nivara looked confused. "What?" Elarisse leaned closer. "Coffee shirt." "What?" "The man I nearly killed with coffee." Nivara's eyes widened. "Wait. You spilled coffee on Vaelorian Draven?" Elarisse frowned. "Is that supposed to mean something?" Nivara stared at her as though she had just announced plans to rob the university. "Elarisse. Please tell me you're joking." "Why?" "Because that's Vaelorian Draven." "Yes. We've established that he has a name." Nivara lowered her voice. "His family owns half the companies in this country. His father practically funds this university. He's the most influential student here, and people don't exactly volunteer to get on his bad side." Elarisse considered that information. Then she sighed. "Wonderful. I've offended a billionaire." Nivara covered her mouth to suppress a laugh. Unfortunately, the lecturer had already noticed them. "Miss Vayne?" Elarisse sat upright. "Yes, sir?" "Since you're apparently having an interesting conversation, perhaps you would like to tell us what your research topic should be?" Her mouth opened. Nothing came out. The lecturer waited. Elarisse glanced at the board. Then at the students. Then at the lecturer. "Something interesting, sir?" A few students laughed. The lecturer sighed. "Excellent contribution." Nivara lowered her head. Elarisse decided that Monday was officially her enemy. Across campus, Vaelorian entered the lecture hall several minutes later. He had changed his shirt. His expression suggested that the world had personally disappointed him. A few students greeted him as he passed. He acknowledged none of them. He took his usual seat near the front. The lecturer looked up. "Mr. Draven. Good of you to join us." "My apologies, sir." His voice was calm. He took out his notebook. The lecturer continued discussing the project arrangements. "Your partner has already been announced." Vaelorian looked up. "Who?" The lecturer checked his list. "Elarisse Vayne." He paused. For a moment, he thought he had misheard. Then his eyes travelled towards the back of the room. There she was. The girl with the coffee. She was whispering something to her friend, smiling as though the morning had not been a complete disaster. And then, as if sensing his attention, she looked towards him. Their eyes met. Her smile disappeared. She mouthed something. He narrowed his eyes. She mouthed it again. Sorry. Vaelorian looked away. This semester was going to be unnecessarily complicated. At 2:46 p.m., Elarisse was sitting beneath one of the university's enormous oak trees, attempting to understand the research instructions. Nivara had abandoned her to attend another lecture. Her phone vibrated. An unknown number. She opened the message. UNKNOWN NUMBER: We need to discuss the project. Library. 4 p.m. Elarisse frowned. She typed. Who is this? The reply arrived almost immediately. Your project partner. She stared at the screen. Oh. Coffee Shirt. Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. Then: Don't call me that. Elarisse smiled. Then stop wearing shirts that attract coffee. No reply. She laughed quietly and slipped her phone into her bag. She had no idea that, on the other side of campus, Vaelorian Draven was staring at his phone with an expression that would have terrified anyone who didn't know him. His best friend, Theron, glanced over. "What's wrong with you?" "Nothing." "You're staring at your phone." "I'm aware." Theron leaned back in his chair. "Is it a girl?" Vaelorian locked his screen. "Get a hobby." Theron laughed. For someone who rarely entertained unnecessary conversations, Vaelorian seemed to be having an unusually difficult day. And the worst part? He hadn't even reached the library yet. At exactly four o'clock, Elarisse entered the university library. She expected to find Vaelorian sitting at one of the tables, probably looking like he had been forced to participate in a humanitarian activity. Instead, she found him standing beside a tall window, one hand in his pocket, reading something on his tablet. He looked up when she approached. "You're late." Elarisse checked her watch. "By thirty seconds." "You're still late." She pulled out a chair. "Do you charge people for breathing too slowly, or is that included in your personality?" Vaelorian looked at her. She smiled sweetly. He exhaled through his nose. "Can we get started?" "Absolutely, Your Majesty." His eyes narrowed. "Don't call me that." "Would you prefer Sir?" He said nothing. Elarisse opened her notebook. For the next twenty minutes, they discussed their research project. To her surprise, Vaelorian was exceptionally intelligent. He had already outlined several possible approaches and seemed to understand the subject better than anyone she had met in class. She found herself genuinely impressed. Unfortunately, his personality remained a work in progress. "You can't just dismiss every suggestion I make," she said. "I haven't dismissed every suggestion." "Only the ones I've made." "Because most of them are impractical." She leaned back. "Do you know what your problem is?" He continued reading. "I'm sure you're about to tell me." "You think being intelligent gives you permission to be unpleasant." That made him look up. For several seconds, neither spoke. Then he closed his tablet. "And you think being cheerful makes you right." Elarisse smiled. "No. I think being right makes me right." He stared at her. And something strange happened. The corner of his mouth almost moved. Almost. But before she could decide whether she had imagined it, his phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen. His expression changed. Not dramatically. Not enough for someone who didn't know him to notice. But Elarisse did. His eyes became distant, his jaw tightened, and whatever little patience he had possessed disappeared. He stood. "I have to go." Elarisse blinked. "What about the project?" "We'll continue tomorrow." "That's it?" He picked up his tablet. "Yes." "Do you always leave conversations halfway through?" He looked at her. "Only when they're no longer useful." She gasped. "Wow." He walked away. Elarisse watched him disappear between the bookshelves. "Unbelievable man." She packed her things and prepared to leave. But as she reached for her notebook, she noticed something underneath it. A small black envelope. She frowned. She was certain it hadn't been there earlier. Her name was written across the front. ELARISSE VAYNE. She looked around. The library was unusually quiet. Slowly, she opened it. Inside was a single photograph. It showed two people standing outside an old building. A young woman. And a man whose face she couldn't quite make out. On the back, someone had written a date. SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO. Below it were seven words. Your family should have left the Dravens alone. Elarisse read the sentence twice. Then a third time. Her fingers tightened around the photograph. What did the Draven family have to do with hers? And who had placed the envelope inside her notebook? She turned it over again. There was something else. A name written in tiny handwriting at the bottom. V. DRAVEN. Elarisse's stomach tightened. Outside the library, a black car pulled away from the university gates. Inside it, Vaelorian stared at the same photograph on his phone. His father had just sent him a message. One sentence. One warning. FATHER: Stay away from the Vayne girl. Vaelorian read it once. Then again. His expression hardened. For the first time that day, the thought of Elarisse Vayne wasn't irritating. It was troubling. Because his father had never warned him about a girl before. And that meant there was something about her that he wasn't supposed to discover. Something his family had spent seventeen years trying to bury.