She Was My Betrothed

Elias gave her a practiced diplomatic smile. “I apologise, Marchioness. Thaddeus is indeed getting on in age, but I wouldn’t trade him for the most capable butler. His loyalty is rare.”

“Loyalty is a nice quality in a dog,” she snapped, though she sat when he gestured.

Gemma took her seat in a huff. Elias couldn’t help but note how she still looked flawless, not a hair out of place.

“What can I do for you?” Elias asked evenly, though inwardly he was already hoping this would be over quickly and quietly.

“Don’t be so formal with me, Elias,” she said with a tight smile. “I was to be your betrothed.”

Elias exhaled softly through his nose, trying to maintain composure. “My lady, I made that promise when I believed Lady Lirae was never going to return,” he began.

“She was my betrothed,” he continued, “and now that she is back, we will continue our courting. I thought you would have understood that.”

Gemma’s eyes flared, just slightly, but enough to signal danger ahead. “And you think I should just smile and step aside?” she asked.

“No,” Elias said carefully, “I think you deserve honesty. And perhaps someone who doesn’t see another woman every time he looks at you.”

“But I told my father we were already courting,” Gemma snapped.

Elias arched an eyebrow. “Then I suppose you’ll have to tell him you lied,” he said. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer I write him a letter myself, explaining the mix-up.”

“So that’s it?” she hissed.

Elias let out a dry laugh. “What exactly do you want me to say? ‘Sorry for not proposing to the woman I don’t love’? Should I host a ball in your honour for surviving a minor heartbreak?”

Her cheeks flushed scarlet. “What is it she has?” Gemma demanded. “A woman with no title, no heritage. She has nothing to her name. She has no family. No background. She merely appeared here years ago and you all welcomed her!”

“Look what she’s done to you. Your image. Your reputation. You’ve gone from noble to… whipped.”

Elias’ jaw ticked. “You forget one thing, Marchioness. Love doesn’t ask why. I love Lirae. I always will.”

That sentence—truth and lie tangled into one—left a hollow pang in his chest. The woman he loved was Lirae not Lyra. But it didn’t make the words any less true.

Gemma scoffed, furious now. “If you love her so much, why aren’t you married already?” she demanded. “What are you waiting for? I think she has some kind of hold on you. Something’s wrong with this picture, Elias, and I intend to find out what.”

“Marchioness,” he said, “Lady Lirae is my betrothed. She will be respected. And she will be honoured.”

“That’s all she will ever be,” Gemma said with a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “She brings nothing to the table. No title. No wealth. No power. All she will ever have is you. Without you, she is nothing. And even then, she’s dragging you down into the slums with her.”

“You were once a prince, the crowned prince, Elias. The envy of every noble household. And now?” She scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her painted lips. “Now, you are a Lord. A Lord, Elias. Granted permission to live in his own kingdom. You walk the halls of the palace like a guest who overstayed his welcome.”

Elias sat motionless for a beat, then leaned back slightly in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him. There was a fire in his eyes. “And yet,” he said calmly, “I sleep better at night.”

Gemma ignored him. “With my family’s power, you could have been so much more. You would be almost equal to the king!”

He rose slowly, his chair scraping slightly on the polished floor, a deliberate sound that seemed to silence the air around them. He looked down at her with pity. “I do not want to be almost equal,” he said. “Almost is just a polite way of saying you’ll never be.”

There was a long pause. Gemma’s jaw tensed, and her carefully constructed façade of nobility started to crack around the edges. She couldn’t find a reply that wasn’t just another dagger.

“Only time will tell, Marchioness,” Elias continued. “However, I’ll bid you goodbye now. I have quite the day ahead of me.”

He stepped aside and gestured subtly toward the door. Gemma turned in self-righteous fury. Just as she reached the exit—

Thaddeus entered, balancing a tray of tea and biscuits.

Gemma nearly collided with him. “For heaven’s sake!” she snapped, nearly toppling the tray.

“I bring the tea.”

Gemma gave one last withering glance, pivoted sharply, and stormed out. Elias raised his eyebrows at Thaddeus as they both watched her disappear.

“Should I inform Miss Lyra of her exit?” Thaddeus asked carefully.

Elias sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No… Not yet. Let her rest.”

Elias started up the stairs to Lyra’s bedroom, his mind was whirling over the consequences of their charade. People would have expectations of them and he couldn’t ask any more of Miss Lyra. She had done more than enough. She had kept him away from jail, saved him from the setup that was Lirae’s death.

It was his turn to help her, help her get back home but with every step he took in the direction of her room. He didn’t want her to.  

*****

“Hello,” Elias said, pausing at the threshold of her bedroom.

Lyra looked up from where she was lounging on a settee near the window. “Is Marchy Gem gone?” she asked, tilting her head with mock sweetness.

“Yes,” Elias nodded, stepping in fully and shutting the door behind him. “In a huff, actually.”

“Awww…” Lyra cooed, pressing her hand to her heart. “She sad she isn’t getting her way?”

He smirked, rolling his sleeves up as he walked toward her. “Actually, she’s threatened to make life difficult for you.”

“Has she now?” She stood and stretched lazily, then cracked her knuckles. “Well, she’s clearly never been punched by a titleless woman before. There’s a first time for everyone.”

“Come sit with me,” he said, patting the space beside him.

Her brows rose. “Oh… oh. Is this a serious conversation? Are you dying? Are we dying?”

“Just sit,” Elias said, sighing as if mentally bracing himself for the tornado that was Lyra.

With a dramatic sigh of her own, she flopped beside him, cross-legged and facing him. “Okay, I’m seated. Hit me with your drama.”

 “I haven’t had the opportunity to say thank you for helping me.”

“That’s because you’re an entitled, pompous—”

“I’m trying here!” he cut her off with a groan, pointing at her. “Could you just not speak for a minute?”

She gave an exaggerated gasp, placing a hand on her chest. “Are you saying I talk too much?”

“God, yes!” he exclaimed, arms thrown upward. “I can barely get a word in! You talk like it’s a sport!”

Lyra tilted her head, then gave a proud little nod. “Well, I am in great shape.”

Elias rolled his eyes, but the gleam in them was unmistakable.

“Go on then,” Lyra said, waving her hand regally. “Your Highness has the floor.”

“Why did you kiss me?” Elias asked, his eyes watching her with vulnerability as though he wasn’t sure if he was hoping for a romantic answer or a tactical one.

For a whole thirty seconds, Lyra said nothing. Absolutely nothing. At first, Elias figured she was mulling over his question, weighing the emotional pros and cons. But then… her silence dragged.

He tilted his head. “Did you hear me?”

Lyra turned her eyes to him with a smug, infuriatingly calm smile. “You told me not to speak for a minute.”

Elias stared at her, utterly speechless for a heartbeat. Then he gave a heavy, exaggerated sigh, tossing himself back against the headboard like a man defeated. “You are impossible.”

“And yet here you are.” She crossed her arms with a satisfied grin.

He turned to face her again, more serious now. “Why, Lyra? Really.”

Her smirk faded. “I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “I don’t know why I kissed you. I just… all of this is strange to me. I can’t explain what’s happening, or why it’s happening, or how I ended up in this world.”

Her hands curled around the edge of the bed as she continued. “Why am I here? What does fate want from me? Why does kissing you feel like it makes sense when literally nothing else does?” She gave a helpless shrug. “So, I’m just… winging it.”

Elias stared at her, then nodded slowly. “It was nice.”

“The kiss?”

He gave a small, boyish grin. “Yeah.”

“Were you ever with Lirae?” she asked. “Like… were you intimate with her?”

Elias’s brows lifted. “No. We wanted to wait till after marriage.”

“Aww,” Lyra said, a laugh bubbling out. “Such a good man.”

His eyes narrowed immediately. “Why do you say that so condescendingly?”