Honey, Love Me One More Time

Elara’s POV

I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until my chest started hurting.The hall had gone dead quiet—like the kind of silence that pressed against my ears. The kind that told me something was about to go very, very wrong.

And it did.

“Lord Vale,” the attendant called out.My stomach dropped as a sick,twisted chill crawled up my spine.“Your ward, Lyria Vale, has been chosen.”

For a second, I didn’t react or move.I didn’t even blink because my brain just refused to cooperate.Then I saw my father.And that’s when it hit hard.His face looked like someone had just gutted him alive.I had never seen my father cry but then I saw actual tears slide down his face in front of an entire hall full of vultures pretending to be nobles.

That’s when the world snapped back into focus. “No!” I gasped because the name they announced, belonged to my little sister, step sister if I had to use the technical term. 

I didn’t hear the rest of it. Didn’t care about the fake “congratulations,” didn’t care about the murmurs or the way people suddenly wouldn’t look at me or my father. Because they all knew.Everyone fucking knew.This wasn’t luck.This wasn’t honor.This was a death sentence dressed up as a wedding proposal-a royal command.

—

“I require a bride for my nephew.” That voice still echoed in my head. King Alaric hadn’t raised his voice.He didn’t need to.Men like him never did.“I am offering land,power and legacy.”

It was more like — “offer me a girl for my crippled,spoiled brat, or I’ll take something worse…your lives for example”! 

No one stepped forward. Of course they didn’t.Who wouldn't look out for themselves?! Because everyone knew who the nephew was and what he was capable of. 

And when the silence dragged too long, the king smiled.“Then we’ll leave it to chance.”

Fun fact-there was nothing random about fear.There was nothing random about forcing every unmarried girl’s name onto those cursed pieces of parchment.And then my little sister turned out to be the unlucky one?! 

Still didn’t make it hurt any less.

—

“Elara…” My father's voice dragged me back,soft,careful,like I might shatter if he spoke too loudly.

I was standing in front of a large mirror, staring at someone I barely recognized.I looked ridiculous.Like some porcelain doll dressed up for slaughter.

I couldn't let my little sister do this. I couldn't send her to the monster so I volunteered to become the offering instead.Umm, scratch that! My step mother coerced me into it basically but I couldn't tell her no,because my father looked more comfortable and relaxed with this alternative. 

The gown was a gift from the king. It clung perfectly. Embroidery curled along my waist. My hair was done.My skin was glowing under candlelight.I almost looked ethereal.Funny how someone could look like a dream while living a nightmare.

“Father… please don’t,” I muttered when I caught his reflection.He was trying not to cry again.Trying but failing badly. 

“I… I never imagined…” he started, and his voice cracked halfway through.

I closed my eyes briefly,preparing myself because parenting a parent was honestly exhausting.“It’s not your fault,” I said automatically.Then I paused.Because that wasn’t entirely true.I looked at him again. His guilt was suffocating,crushing.However it was also true that he didn’t choose the system.“The choice was never yours,” I added anyway, softer.Then my jaw tightened.“It was made by someone else.”

We didn’t say his name.We didn’t have to.The king’s shadow hung between the two of us like a cursed apparition.My father stepped closer, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch me anymore.“Elara… if there had been another way—”

“There wasn’t,” I cut in, sharper than I meant to.I let out a breath, running a hand over my face.“Not under his tyranny. You know that.”

Silence followed,heavy,awkward,but real.

My father and I always had conflicting political views, however it seemed like he was about to agree with me on this one. “A win at last”, I internally scoffed.

Turning back to the mirror, I smoothed down my dress just to have something to do.“I used to think I’d marry for love,” I said after a moment, almost laughing at myself.Gosh, what a stupid, naive thought it was.“Someone who’d actually see me for who I was. Not as a deal. Not as some bargaining chip.” My reflection stared back.My eyes still looked soft,hopeful,like an idiot.“That version of me didn’t last long, huh?” I muttered.

A face flickered in my mind—someone from not very long before. Someone who did make me believe in that crap,Lucious! Now he was gone like a stranger whom I didn't know anymore. 

Everyone leaves, or gets taken, like my mother, then my father… That’s just how this world works,at least for me. Now I get handed off to a man I’ve never even met,who isn't even supposed to be a ‘man’ in the true essence of the word. 

I met my father’s gaze again.“They say he’s ruthless.You've met him.Tell me,how ruthless is he?”

My father flinched.“Elara! He is Alpha blooded, a little hot headed—"

“He’s feared for some reason.Even the subordinate Alphas under the King fear him like death reincarnated,” I snapped. “There must be a good reason why…” My father gulped. I laughed, hollow…sharp.“And I’m supposed to stand beside him like some pretty little offering? Smile? Be grateful?”

He closed his eyes like I’d slapped him.“Please,” he said quietly. “For the family… for the kingdom… just try to endure it.”

Endure?! I almost lost it right there.Instead, I just let out a slow breath.“Endure,” I repeated.The word tasted like ash.For a moment, I saw the version of me that would cry, scream, beg for another way.But she was gone.Buried somewhere between the piles of broken promises and this room.So I straightened up,lifted my chin,squared my shoulders.And just like that, she disappeared completely.“I will,” I replied calmly.

His eyes filled up again—pride and heartbreak mixing in a way that made my chest ache for my old man. “That’s my daughter,” he whispered.

Yeah!Lucky me!!!