Chapter 2 — Morning in the Castle
The first light of dawn filtered through the tall windows of the castle, casting silver streaks across the stone floors. Eliya stirred in her oversized tunic, the fabric sliding off her tiny shoulders. She had slept fitfully, dreams tangled with fear, curiosity, and the echo of Azurith's piercing eyes.
As she stepped cautiously into the hallway, her bare feet cold against the stone, the quiet of the castle was broken by the soft murmur of the servants preparing for the day. Their eyes immediately fell on her, and whispers followed her steps like gentle wind.
"Look at her… she's so delicate," one maid said, a smile tugging at her lips.
"She's like a little bunny," another whispered, her eyes wide with admiration. "Her hair, her skin… she's… perfect."
Eliya blushed, her hands clasping together nervously. She had never been called beautiful before—never received such soft, kind words. Her small frame and pale, pale skin, paired with her long, flowing hair, made her appear almost ethereal, like a fragile creature out of a fairy tale.
Even as the servants fussed quietly, adjusting her tunic so it hung more gracefully, a strange warmth filled her chest. For the first time in her life, someone seemed to see her, not as a burden or a tool, but as someone worth admiring.
Yet, beneath that gentle attention, a current of tension ran through her thoughts. Azurith. She hadn't seen him yet that morning, and the memory of his cold, commanding gaze sent a shiver down her spine. She knew that beauty, innocence, and charm could draw attention—but it was the king's attention she feared most, and secretly longed for.
A soft knock interrupted her reverie. The head maid stepped forward, curtsying.
"The king will see you shortly," she said, voice polite yet careful. "Prepare yourself, Eliya."
Eliya's heartbeat quickened. She nodded silently, adjusting the too-large tunic again. As she moved toward the throne room, the castle felt alive—the murmurs of servants, the soft clatter of silverware, the distant echo of footsteps—yet all her focus remained on him, the towering, cold Fairy King whose eyes had already marked her as his own.
And though she trembled, a strange flutter of anticipation filled her chest. This morning, she realized, was the true beginning of her new life—a life full of fear, fascination, and the unknown pull of a man whose power and presence could not be ignored.