Elara Valerius
1020 Words
The footman led me through corridor after corridor. His long legs carried him in huge strides, leaving me struggling to keep up with his pace.
In spite of this, I tried my very best to take in as much of the beauty that stood around me as I possibly could.
The palace grounds were nothing like I had imagined, which was to say they were worse, in the way that beautiful things are when you are standing inside them and you know, you are fully aware, that you do not belong.
From the moment I had stepped through the imposing, well-secured eastern gates, I was startled. First by the stone fountain that caught the last of the evening light and reflected it back in colourful fragments. Everything was meticulously placed in a manner that each complemented the other, intentional, by someone who had the luxury of deciding where things went.
Marble floors, polished to a mirror shine, reflected the flickering torchlight.
I quickened my pace as we moved through the well-lit corridors. High ceilings arched above, painted with scenes of fierce wolves beneath silver half-moons.
This was my first time inside the palace. My gaping lips made that clear from feet away.
From Ashen Ridge, it had always looked like a distant mountain, faint and untouchable. Now I was walking through its veins, and every step reminded me how small I was.
The footman said nothing. His footsteps were silent against the tiles, but mine echoed.
My gaze swept across the walls, the ceilings, the massive gleaming chandeliers that hung like frozen crystals. Servants pressed themselves against the walls as we passed, trying their best to go unnoticed, their heads bowed. No one looked at me. No one spoke.
We stopped before a set of tall wooden doors. They were already open, wide apart like wings, revealing a room beyond.
"The library," the footman said. "You are to wait here."
He gestured for me to enter, then turned and padded away.
The library was vast, larger than any room I had ever seen. Oak shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed with leather-bound books in every colour. A low fire burned in a massive hearth, casting warm light over velvet chairs and long tables. Candles flared on the mantelpiece. The air smelled of old paper and something faintly sweet.
I walked slowly, my shoes soft on the thick rug. My eyes moved from shelf to shelf, taking in the gold lettering on the book spines, the intricate carvings on the wooden frames. It was magical in its own way, and I felt like a stray cat that had wandered into a paradise.
Near the far wall, a painting hung above the fireplace. My legs carried me toward it, drawn by the blend of colours.
It was a family portrait. King Aldric sat at the centre, his face stern, his crown jewels gleaming. Beside him stood Queen Selene, her hand resting firmly on his shoulder, her expression regal and distant. Behind them stood three young wolves: Lucian, Kaelan, and a girl with dark hair and a sharp smile.
I was staring at her carefully painted face when a voice came from the shadows.
"It's about time you showed up."
I spun around.
My eyes locked on hers.
Elara Valerius.
She rose from a deep chair, a book in her hand. I realised she had been sitting in the dark, watching me. Black hair cascaded past her shoulders in ethereal waves, and her grey eyes, so much like Lucian's, studied me with an intensity that made the hairs on my arms stand.
"Your Highness," I said, my voice catching.
She waved a hand. "Elara. Titles are boring."
She approached me, her pleated deep-green gown flowing gorgeously across the rug. She did not smile.
"Early? Or are they late?" Her tone was smooth and dry.
"I was told to come at sunset and here I am."
"Then they're late." She set the book down on the little table between us and looked at me again. "You're not at all what I expected."
I did not know how to answer that. "What did you expect?"
She tilted her head, considering. "I'm not sure, but you surely aren't her." She gestured to my dress. "You look ordinary."
The word stung, but my expression stayed neutral.
"And I am," I retorted.
"Keep your defences down, Ophelia." There was something about the way my name left her tongue that I did not like. "You will need them tomorrow."
"What is happening tomorrow?" I was genuinely confused.
"So my brothers have not prepared you." She said it like a statement, not a question. "You will be meeting with the Council tomorrow. They are the tigers you need to be wary of, not me."
The thought of meeting with the Royal Council put a sour taste in my mouth.
"You should not be afraid, though, considering how you have undone my brothers," she continued.
I did not know what to say.
Her lips parted, but before any words came, her eyes found something behind me and she walked right past me toward the door.
"Try not to look like this before them," she said. "They derive joy from preying upon the weak."
I turned to watch her leave.
My heart caught in my throat when my gaze fell on Lucian, who stood at the threshold. His grey eyes moved from Elara to me, then back to her.
"Elara," he said.
"Lucian." Her voice was dry. "Your omega is here. Try not to frighten her more than I already have."
His jaw tightened. "What did you say to her?"
"Nothing that I was not meant to." She stepped past him into the corridor. "Good luck. You will need it." She glanced at me, then at her brother. "You will both need it."
She disappeared around the corner.
Lucian remained in the doorway for a moment, scrutinising me.
Then he stepped in and the huge doors shut behind him.
It was just the two of us. The large library faded into the background and the air felt cramped around us both.
- Writer
