Chapter 13:
The Truth Unveiled
The palace was a labyrinth of secrets, its corridors whispering with the weight of unspoken truths. Elara moved through them like a ghost, her heart pounding as she clutched the poetry book Alaric had given her, its pages a lifeline amid the storm of Lord Cassian's threat. His words in the kitchen—Lady Elara Torren… one word to the king, and you're finished—had haunted her sleepless night, each tick of the clock counting down to his deadline. She'd refused to spy on Alaric, but the cost of that defiance loomed like a noose.
She'd avoided Alaric since their alcove meeting, his promise to protect her both a comfort and a chain. Every glance, every touch, pulled her closer to a truth she couldn't hide much longer: she was falling for him, and Cassian's blackmail made that love a weapon. She needed to warn him, to tell him who she was before Cassian did, but the thought of his reaction—pity, anger, or worse, rejection—twisted her insides.
Fate, or perhaps recklessness, decided for her. As she carried a tray of linens through a quiet hallway near the royal quarters, Alaric appeared, his cloak thrown hastily over his tunic, his dark eyes searching hers with an urgency that stopped her cold. "Elara," he said, his voice low, glancing at the empty corridor. "We need to talk. Now."
She hesitated, the tray a shield against her racing pulse. "It's not safe," she whispered, but his hand brushed her arm, a fleeting touch that unraveled her resolve.
"Please," he said, leading her to a small antechamber, its walls hung with faded tapestries. He closed the door, the click echoing like a lock. "Cassian's threats—I can't stop thinking about them. What does he know, Elara? Why are you so afraid?"
Her throat tightened, the poetry book heavy in her apron. She'd spent years hiding, blending into the palace's shadows, but Alaric's gaze saw through her, demanding the truth. "If I tell you," she said, her voice trembling, "there's no going back. For either of us."
"Then let's face it together," he said, stepping closer, his voice fierce but gentle. "I meant what I said, Elara. You matter to me. Whatever it is, I won't turn away."
The words broke something in her, a wall built from years of loss and fear. She set the tray down, her hands shaking, and met his eyes. "My name isn't just Elara," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's Elara Torren. Lady Elara Torren, daughter of Lord Torren, who led a rebellion against your father thirteen years ago."
Alaric's breath caught, his eyes widening, but he didn't pull back. "Torren," he repeated, the name heavy with history. "The traitor's house. I was a boy when it happened, but I remember the trials, the executions. You… you were his daughter?"
She nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I was ten when they killed him. My brother died in the fighting, my mother and I were stripped of everything—title, lands, home. She died two years later, and I… I became a maid to survive. If the court knows, if Cassian tells them, I'll be branded a traitor's heir. They'll lock me away, or worse."
The truth hung between them, raw and jagged. Elara braced for his retreat, for the prince to see her not as the woman he'd danced with but as a relic of rebellion. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand lifting her chin gently, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You're not a traitor," he said, his voice fierce. "You were a child, Elara. You've carried this alone all these years?"
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. "I had to. My father believed in a better Eldoria, one where the people had a voice. I still do, but I learned to hide it, to stay invisible. Until you."
His thumb brushed her cheek, a touch so soft it stole her breath. "You're not invisible to me," he said. "And you're not alone anymore. Cassian won't touch you. I'll find a way to stop him, to protect you."
"You can't," she said, pulling back, her voice breaking. "You're the crown prince, Alaric. Your marriage, your kingdom—they come first. If you fight for me, you risk everything. Lysandra, your father, Valoria—they'll never let this stand."
"Then let them try to stop me," he said, his eyes blazing with a defiance that scared her as much as it thrilled her. "I don't know how, Elara, but I won't let you fall. Not for Cassian, not for anyone."
She wanted to believe him, to let his words wrap around her like armor, but the weight of her past pressed down. "You don't understand what you're promising," she said, clutching the poetry book through her apron. "I… I care for you, Alaric. Too much. That's why I have to stay away."
Before he could argue, she slipped past him, the door closing behind her with a soft thud. Her heart raced as she hurried down the corridor, the truth now a shared secret, binding them closer but pulling them into deeper danger. Unseen, a servant loyal to Cassian lingered nearby, his ears catching enough to fuel the lord's next move.