Troubled past

CHAPTER TWO: CRACKS IN THE CROWN

I wake up before dawn, my body tense, my mind racing. Alexander is still asleep beside me, his arm wrapped around my waist. The steady rhythm of his breathing should comfort me, but it doesn’t.

The palace is dark and silent, almost too quiet. I can hear the faint hum of the air system and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Every second feels loud and sharp. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I slip out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake him. My robe slides over my shoulders, and I hug it tighter as I enter the cold hallway.

Sometimes this place feels like a dream, but lately, it feels like a prison. The marble floors echo when I walk, the thick walls towering over me. Guards stand at every corner, their faces blank. I smile at them as I pass, pretending I’m fine. I’ve gotten good at pretending.

I walk into the garden and sit by the fountain, wrapping my arms around myself. The early morning air is cool, biting at my skin. My reflection ripples in the water. I barely recognize myself anymore. The crown, the gowns, the diamonds… they make me look like someone else.

But I know who I am. I’m a woman with blood on her hands.

The memories creep in again, like they always do when I’m alone.

Daniel’s voice shouting.

His hand gripping my arm too tightly.

The fear rushing through me like fire.

My push. His fall.

The c***k of his skull.

The blood.

I cover my mouth, trying to hold back a sob. It’s been years, but the memory feels fresh, like it happened yesterday.

Everyone thinks I’m perfect. They call me a fairytale princess. If they knew the truth, they’d call me a murderer.

I sit there until the sun rises, painting the palace gardens gold. My heart feels heavy, my chest tight.

Alexander finds me later at breakfast. I’ve tried to hide my exhaustion with makeup, but I know my eyes are swollen.

“You didn’t sleep,” he says softly, sitting across from me.

“I’m fine.”

His brows pull together. He doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t push. That’s one thing I love about him. He gives me space. He trusts me. I don’t deserve that trust.

“Maybe you should see the royal doctor,” he suggests gently. “You’ve been… tense.”

“I’m just tired.”

He studies me for a moment, his dark eyes searching mine. I look away, pretending to butter a piece of bread. My hands are shaking.

He reaches across the table, covering my hand with his. His touch is warm, steady. “You can talk to me, Elena.”

The words almost break me. I want to tell him everything. I want to confess about Daniel, about that night, about how I still wake up hearing his voice. But the words stay trapped in my throat.

If I tell him, I’ll lose him. I’ll lose this life we built.

So I force a smile. “I’m fine, Alex.”

He doesn’t believe me. I can see it in his eyes. But he kisses my hand anyway.

The day drags on. I try to distract myself with palace meetings, charity plans, signing papers. People bow to me, call me “Your Highness,” smile at me like I’m some angel. I smile back, nodding, speaking in a calm voice.

Inside, I’m screaming.

By afternoon, I retreat to my private study again. The walls are lined with books, but they don’t comfort me today. I lock the door, sink into the armchair by the window, and bury my face in my hands.

Tears spill over before I can stop them.

I don’t cry often anymore. I’ve taught myself to hold it all in, to keep the mask on. But today, I feel like I’m cracking.

I grab the photo of Daniel again. I don’t even know why I keep it. Maybe because a part of me still loves him. Or maybe because I don’t want to forget what I did.

I trace his face with my finger, my chest aching. He was my first love. We were so young, so reckless. At first, he made me feel like the most beautiful woman alive. He promised me forever.

But forever turned into fear. His love became control. His anger became violent.

And then… that night.

I press the photo against my heart, sobbing quietly. I’ve never told anyone about him, not even Alexander.

“Daniel…” I whisper his name into the empty room.

Later, I wash my face and try to pull myself together. I can’t let anyone see me like this.

I walk through the palace halls, forcing my back straight, my head high. The guards bow as I pass. My heels click against the marble floor, echoing loudly.

But as I turn a corner, I feel it again—that strange sensation behind me. Like I’m being watched.

I pause, glancing around. The hallway is empty, silent. My heart beats faster.

I tell myself I’m being paranoid. Maybe I’m just tired. But the feeling doesn’t go away.

That night, I have dinner with Alexander in the smaller dining room. He tries to make me laugh, telling me a story about one of his meetings. I smile, but it feels fake. I’m too distracted, too tense.

When we’re done, he walks me back to our bedroom, his hand warm around mine.

“You’ve been quiet,” he says softly.

“I’m sorry. I just… have a lot on my mind.”

He studies me, concern in his eyes. “Is it the press again? Did someone say something to upset you?”

“No.”

He cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Elena, I know when something’s wrong. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

His words make my chest ache. I wish I could tell him. I wish I could trust him with this.

But how do you tell your husband that you killed a man?

“I’m fine,” I whisper.

He sighs, kissing my forehead. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”

I nod, tears stinging my eyes.

That night, I wake up from a nightmare.

I’m back in our old apartment with Daniel. The walls are closing in, his voice echoing around me. He’s shouting, his face twisted with anger. I’m crying, begging him to stop. I push him, and he falls.

There’s blood everywhere.

I kneel beside him, screaming his name. He doesn’t move. His eyes stare blankly at the ceiling.

And then, in the dream, his head turns. He looks right at me.

“I’m not dead,” he whispers.

I wake up with a scream stuck in my throat. My body is covered in sweat, my heart pounding.

Alexander stirs beside me, pulling me into his arms. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re safe.”

But I don’t feel safe. I feel like Daniel is right here, in this room, watching me.

The next morning, I sit in front of the mirror while my maid brushes my hair. I stare at my reflection, barely recognizing the woman staring back. My face is pale, my eyes dull.

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” she asks softly.

I force a smile. “Yes. Just tired.”

She nods, but I can see the worry in her eyes.

When she leaves, I put my head in my hands. My chest feels tight, my breathing shallow. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.

In the afternoon, I go back to the gardens. The flowers are bright, beautiful, but they don’t comfort me. I walk slowly, hugging myself, my eyes darting around.

That’s when I see a man standing at the far end of the garden, near the trees.

I freeze.

He’s too far away to see clearly, but I know that stance. I know that presence. My heart races.

“Daniel?” I whisper.

But when I blink, he’s gone.

I stumble back, breathing quickly . Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I’m losing my mind.

I rush back inside, my hands trembling.

By evening, I feel like I’m unraveling. I sit on the bed, hugging my knees, tears streaming down my face. I don’t even try to hide them anymore.

Alexander finds me like that. He kneels in front of me, cupping my face. “Elena. What’s going on? Please talk to me.”

I shake my head. “I can’t.”

“You’re scaring me.” His voice cracks slightly.

I want to tell him everything. I want to tell him about Daniel, about the blood, about the way I feel like he’s here, alive, hunting me. But the words won’t come out.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He pulls me into his arms, holding me tight. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together,” he says softly.

But I know this isn’t something we can face together. This is my past, my sin, my secret.

And now it’s coming back for me.

That night, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling. I can’t shake the feeling that Daniel is alive. I can’t shake the feeling that he’s close. Every sound in the palace makes me jump .

I’m trapped in a cage, surrounded by guards, and yet I’ve never felt more unsafe.

The crown on my head feels heavier than ever

And I know, deep in my bones, that everything is about to fall apart.