Why Ophelia Couldn't Leave Novels & Stories

Ophelia couldn't live without Edward. "People would laugh at us since we are brother and sister. Dad would be furious, and he'd send you abroad." The thought of that made Ophelia sad. Edward was so good to her, and she did not want him to be driven away. "Ophelia, don't cry. Hear me out first." Edward wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes. He paused for a moment, gazing at her earnestly. But Ophelia couldn't just stop crying on command. "I'm not a tap, so I can't just turn off my tears." She felt aggrieved.

The audience, on the other hand, looked quite pleased with the outcome, none of them even making a noise of protests to stop the show from becoming more entertaining. “What is the meaning of this?” Dorian was in front of Sedona in the blink of an eye. His eyes flashed red as he began to probe into her mind. Sedona didn’t look up. She focussed on the ground, on Dorian’s brown loafers. “Due to Ophelia, I had to be banished, and I had to stay away from my family.” The alpha king tried his best to not grab the woman by her hair and slam it against the nearest surface, and bash it until her skull was nothing but a mangled pulp of blood and bones. But he was so close to doing exactly that.

Even if she didn't want to see me, an idea that broke my heart, knowing that she was okay would have to be enough for me. But I couldn't even have that solace, for she remained elusive to everyone. Thinking about it, I realized that Ophelia had no best friend. Even her closest relatives remained indifferent to her fate. I had tried talking to her father, but he was angry and dismissive. He had told me that, "his debt to me was paid, so it wasn't his problem if I couldn't keep track of my own property”. The callousness of his statement had infuriated me, and Anthony had to forcibly drag me away from the man before I beat him senseless. If her own father didn't care what happened to her, then

"But I want to face this head-on, Demitri. Running away will prove nothing. I want to face them and let them see that I'm not guilty at all so I don't have to hide." "Ophelia, you don't understand…" "Understand what? The palace will soon be in chaos, and your Father will condemn you for running me away. I don't want that to happen. I don't want to stain your reputation and make you look bad. You think this, running away, will make everything better? No, Demitri. No. It will just make everything worse. What you should do is surrender me–" "Surrender you? What the fuck is that?!'

Seeing her like that crushed him. “Ophelia,” he said gently. She blinked slowly. Her eyes finally regaining focus and taking in her surroundings, which she had been blankly staring at for a while. “You felt it too, didn’t you?” Richard didn’t lie, “Yes.” “Then why are we still here?” Her voice cracked. “Why aren’t we going to him?” Leon stepped forward. “We should... if the Monarch’s really-“ He didn’t finish the sentence. Ophelia stood abruptly. “I need to go. I need to see it. The body. I need to know-“

“You tried your best, that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to him. You're powerful and faster, don't let that make you think otherwise.” He looked away but didn’t pull back. Ophelia stood and moved to the door, giving us space. Before she left, she turned; “I'd say ‘rest while you can. Whatever this is, can be handled later.’ But you’re mother and son, it’s not like you’ll listen to me anyway.” And then she was gone. Casper and I sat in the hush of the little hut, with only the drip of water and our shared silence filling the space. Neither of us understood the consequences of that dinner had just begun.

Father was probably in some corner of the household taking a smoke, and all I could think of was Ophelia. I should never have left her. I should never have ignored all those signs she gave me. She clearly didn't want this union, and now she was out there with no money, no housing, and hardly anything that could help a feeble young lady survive in a town like Evenmoor. My eyes began to glisten.

Ophelia did not speak because she did not want to talk to him, and also because she had nothing to say to him. Meanwhile, Greg did not speak because he insisted on sending her back. He would definitely let her leave by herself at any other time, but it was already very late at night, and it was too dangerous. Although she said that an old lady like her would not face any safety issues, anything could happen. No one could predict the future. Greg followed Ophelia all the way to the elevator and to the entrance of the hospital, but neither of them spoke. Ophelia stood at the door and waited for a cab while Greg was at the side, accompanying her.

Beside her, Ophelia smirked. This out-of-the-box thinking only had to occur because Ophelia had blocked my every other path. I hadn’t been given permission to use any of the rooms I’d need for a more traditional affair, and the Head Maid also said they didn’t have enough supplies to give me. I’d had no choice but to branch out into the unorthodox. But I held my tongue. Ophelia had done worse to me, and Grayson had taken her side. What hope did I have of convincing the Queen that Ophelia had set out to sabotage me?

Me, never mated to Rafael. Me, still wearing the Hollow Crown. Me, consumed by the Gate, crowned in frost. Each version of me looked at the others with disappointment, pride, grief. Then one stepped forward. The Ophelia who had never left the Hollow. "Why did you leave us behind?" she asked. "Because I wanted to be more than what they made me," I answered. "And what did you become?" I couldn’t answer. Not yet. The Fracture The crack in the tower widened.