Verity

Elara's POV

I couldn't sleep much.

Umm, honestly, not even for a second.I just lay there,staring at the ceiling,replaying everything. Over and over and over again like some cursed loop I couldn’t shut off.My entire life was playing backwards… then forward and then in a mess… 

By the time the sky started turning pale, I gave up. “Great,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. “First night in this palace and I already hate my life.”

Romantic.

I pushed myself out of bed, still in yesterday’s mess of a dress—wrinkled and ugly now, exactly like how my wedding was… 

“Step one,” I said to myself. “Coffee! Before I murder someone.”

---

The kitchen was surprisingly easy to find.And thankfully empty.

“Bless whoever invented silence,” I murmured as I rummaged around until I found what I needed.

A few minutes later, I was leaning against the window with a steaming cup in hand, taking slow sips like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to sanity.And then I noticed the training ground in the distance. My eyes sharpened instantly.From this vantage point, I had a clear view! 

There were men sparring.The sound of clashing steel.The smell of adrenaline.Their fluid movements.The part of life with verity,no fake smiles and suffocating politeness.

A slow grin spread across my face. “Well… hello there.” I needed some refreshing too.

Ten minutes later—

I was out of that sorry gown and into something that actually made sense: shorts, a loose tee, hair tied up.I stretched my arms as I walked, feeling the stiffness leave my body with every step.

“Now this,” I muttered, “feels like the real me.”

---

The moment I stepped onto the training ground everyone literally stopped.Swords paused mid-air,conversations died and a few guys just… stared. I blinked.“…What?”

One of them coughed awkwardly. Another elbowed his friend.

“My lady—” someone started.

“Oh, don’t start with that,” I cut in immediately, waving my hand. “It’s too early for that shit. I haven’t had enough coffee to tolerate that crap…let's go…”

A few of them exchanged looks.Then someone snorted.Good! That was progress.I rolled my shoulders, stepping further in. “So… who’s sparring with me?” Silence and awkward glances again. I frowned. “What?Did I suddenly grow two heads?”

“No, it’s just—” one of them scratched his neck awkwardly. “You’re… Prince Dustan’s wife now.”

“And?” I shot back.More silence.I stared at them for a second then scoffed.“Oh, come on. Yesterday I was just Ela. Today I’m suddenly made of glass?” A few of them looked embarrassed.“Relax,” I added, a smirk tugging at my lips. “I’m not going to cry if I lose. I might punch you harder though.”

That earned a couple of chuckles.Finally!Baron stepped forward.“I’ll spar with you,” he said cautiously.

I grinned.This was definitely not the first time we would be sparing together, yet he looked nervous. “That’s the spirit.”

---

The first clash! Fuck, I missed this.

The impact vibrated through my arms, snapping something back into place inside me.I moved instinctively—ducking, twisting, countering.He came at me again.I blocked.Then turned and struck.“Shit—” he stumbled back slightly, eyes widening.

I laughed.“What? Didn’t expect that?”

“You hit harder than normal.Did I piss you off?Your husband would be mad if I did, ” He muttered.

“Thank you,” I said sweetly,ignoring the surge of irritation. “I’ve been told I have a great personality too.”

A few of the others laughed outright this time.It was getting better!The tension was dissolving a little.

Soon, more of them joined in.One after another.And for the first time since yesterday—I felt…normal.

Sweat clung to my skin, my breath came faster, my muscles burned—but it was the good kind of burn. The kind that reminded me I was alive,not trapped.Just the version of me that I loved.“Careful!” someone shouted as another guy lunged.

I spun just in time, knocking his strike aside and sweeping his leg.He hit the ground with a grunt.I winced. “Oops.”

Then I offered him a hand. “You alive?”

He took it, laughing. “Barely.”

“Good. That means I didn’t go too easy on you.”

“You call that not easy?” another one chimed in.

I shot him a look. “You wanna try?”

He immediately shook his head. “Nope. I choose life.”

That made me burst out in a hearty laugh.And it felt good.Really good.For a while, everything else faded—the throbbing bond, the facade of a marriage, the absolute disaster that was my husband… and mate. It was just me, the ground beneath my feet, and the rhythm of movement.

Freedom!Even if it was temporary.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead, breathing heavily but smiling.“Alright,” I said, hands on my hips. “Who’s next?” A few of them groaned.“Oh come on,” I teased. “Don’t tell me I scared all of you already.”

“Scared?” one of them muttered. “No. Concerned for our survival? Absolutely.”

I smirked.“Good. Keeps things interesting.”

“Move, move—don’t give her space!”

“Too late,” I shot back, ducking under an incoming grab and twisting out of it.A few more familiar faces had joined in—guys I’d trained with before, the kind who didn’t go easy on me just because I was a woman.Or at least… they used not to.

“Alright,” one of them grinned, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s see if marriage made you soft.”

I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, because that’s exactly what happened overnight.”

They came at me together this time.Unfair? Sure! Fun? Totally!

I dodged the first, blocked the second, but the third caught me around the waist.“Got you!” he shouted.

“Oh, you really don’t,” I shot back, elbowing him hard enough to make him grunt.But then someone grabbed my arm,another hooked my leg! And the next thing I knew, we were all crashing to the ground in a mess,laughing aloud. 

“Cheaters!” I laughed, struggling as two of them tried to pin me down.

“Strategic teamwork,” one corrected, trying and failing to hold my wrist.

“Get off—!” I twisted, nearly throwing one off balance.

“Hold her—she’s slipping!”

“I am not a damn fish!” I snapped, laughing despite myself.

“Could’ve fooled me—”

“Shut up and—”

And then—everyone froze. Just like that.The laughter died.All movements stopped.All hands on me—Vanished.The men scrambled off me like I’d suddenly caught fire, backing away so fast it was almost comical.

I blinked, still half on the ground.“…What?”

No one answered.They were all staring at something behind me.Or rather—Someone.A strange tension crept up my spine.Slowly, very slowly,I turned.And the smile on my face—Faded.

He was there.My husband…Dustan,sitting in his wheelchair, being pushed forward at an unhurried pace, like he had all the time in the world.His gaze swept across the training ground before settling on me.