When her uncle died, Elysia’s father had immediately offered to bring Aunt Imogen back to Hartwell Manor.
He had promised to care for her for the rest of her life.
But Imogen’s mother had refused.
At the time, her words had cut like knives.
"How can a woman survive without a husband?"
Then she had sneered at the Hartwell family.
"All you people know is war. Today one son dies, tomorrow another follows."
Her voice had dripped with contempt.
"And when every last Hartwell is buried beneath the battlefield, who will feed my daughter then?"
The memory still left a bitter taste.
Back then, everyone had called the woman heartless.
Yet time had proven her prediction disturbingly accurate.
Faced with her mother’s threats and tears, Imogen had eventually yielded.
She left Hartwell Manor and remarried.
But she ended up stepping into a second marriage that proved far crueler than the first.
Rumors said her second husband drank heavily.
Beat servants.
Beat his wife.
Beat anyone weaker than himself.
Years later, he finally died. Imogen’s mother followed not long afterward.
Now Imogen lived alone. A simple life yet a quiet and peaceful one.
Supporting herself through the few properties she had inherited.
This tavern was one of them.
Elysia visited often.
Yet she almost never sought her aunt out directly.
Instead, she would reserve a private room upstairs.
Order tea and pastries.
Listen to the storyteller below.
Then leave once the performance ended.
Today was no different.
The storyteller had just reached the most exciting part of a tale involving a wandering swordsman and a stolen treasure map when a knock sounded at her door.
Knock.
Knock.
Elysia looked up.
"Come in."
The door opened.
A young clerk hurried inside.
She immediately recognized him.
He worked at the jeweler next door.
The boy bowed deeply.
"My lady."
His expression was unusually nervous.
"I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid we can no longer sell you the bangles."
The room fell silent.
Elysia slowly lowered her teacup.
Her brows knitted together.
"What do you mean?"
The clerk swallowed.
"A gentleman has taken an interest in them. And..."
His voice grew smaller.
"He offered a higher price."
For a moment, Elysia simply stared at him.
Then she smiled.
A cold smile.
"So let me understand."
Her voice remained perfectly pleasant.
"I selected the bangles before they were even finished. I paid for the bangles in full. I reserved the bangles upfront."
The clerk looked increasingly uncomfortable.
"And now you’re informing me that you’ve sold them to someone else?"
The boy nearly wilted.
"The gentleman offered an extraordinary amount."
Elysia’s smile remained unchanged.
"Then perhaps you should have returned his extraordinary amount and honored your agreement."
The clerk laughed awkwardly.
Unfortunately, it sounded more like a cry for help.
"My lady..."
He hesitated, then lowered his voice.
"The gentleman requested that you come speak with him personally."
Elysia’s eyes narrowed.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
After a moment, she stood.
"Fine."
Turning toward Clara, she said,
"Stay here."
Then she added,
"Finish the pastries if you like."
Clara immediately brightened.
A short while later, she stepped back into the jewelry shop.
The moment she crossed the threshold, she saw him.
And stopped.
Her expression hardened immediately.
Vaelen.
Of course it was Vaelen.
Who else could possibly be this unreasonable?
The Crown Prince sat comfortably beside a low table.
A cup rested in his hand.
Judging by the displeased look on his face, he was currently regretting his decision to sample the shop’s tea.
Apparently, their finest brew failed to impress royal standards.
Hearing footsteps, Vaelen glanced up.
Their eyes met.
His first words nearly made Elysia laugh.
"You’re following me?"
Elysia blinked.
"Pardon?"
Her voice was dangerously calm.
"I have many things to do, Your Highness. Following you is not one of them."
The shopkeeper quietly backed away.
This conversation already felt hostile.
Elysia continued, "I reserved a pair of bangles here earlier. I was informed someone attempted to purchase them out from under me."
Her gaze settled on him.
"That someone appears to be you."
Vaelen frowned slightly.
The truth was...
He hadn’t known the bangles belonged to Elysia.
In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted them at all.
Something about them felt familiar.
Important.
As though he’d seen them before.
Perhaps in a dream.
Perhaps in a memory he couldn’t quite grasp.
Whatever the reason, the moment he saw them, he knew he didn’t want anyone else buying them.
The clerk looked helplessly between the two.
Since they clearly knew one another, perhaps they could solve this themselves.
He smiled nervously.
"My Lord and My Lady, since you’re acquainted..."
Neither looked at him.
The clerk immediately regretted speaking.
"...I’ll just stand over here."
He retreated quickly.
"If I remember correctly," Vaelen said slowly, "you’ve never cared much for jewelry."
Elysia folded her arms.
"And?"
His gaze lingered on her.
"Then the bangles must be for Sylrienne."
"My niece’s birthday is approaching."
Her answer was immediate.
"A gift from her aunt is only proper."
Then her expression cooled.
"But that’s hardly the issue."
She took a step forward.
"You knew the item had already been reserved. You still attempted to take it. Why?"
Vaelen’s expression darkened slightly.
Why?
Because he wanted it.
Wasn’t that enough?
For years, whenever Elysia wanted something, she surrendered it the moment he asked.
She followed him everywhere.
Agreed with everything.
Smiled at everything.
Yet now...
She stood before him arguing over a pair of bangles.
The change irritated him more than it should have.
Far more.
His voice softened dangerously.
"Because things I want..."
His gaze locked onto hers.
"...always become mine."
The arrogance in that statement was almost impressive.
Almost.
Elysia let out a slow breath.
Very well.
If that was how he wanted to play.
She turned toward the trembling clerk.
"How much did he offer?"
The clerk stammered.
"Thirty."
"Fifty."
The answer came immediately.
The clerk nearly dropped his ledger.
"F-Fifty?"
"A hundred."
Vaelen didn’t even blink.
The clerk looked as though he might faint.
One hundred gold.
A small house and a plot of land could be purchased for this much money.
Elysia’s jaw tightened.
"One hundred twenty."
"One hundred fifty."
The numbers rose effortlessly.
As though they were discussing pebbles rather than fortunes.
Elysia’s eyes narrowed. But before she could raise the bid further...
"Two hundred."
Vaelen leaned back.
Completely relaxed.
Completely infuriating.
The shop fell silent.
Even the clerk had forgotten how to breathe.
Elysia stared at him.
Then slowly said,
"I didn’t raise the bid."
Vaelen shrugged.
A lazy, indifferent motion.
"It seemed inevitable."
His expression remained calm.
For the future ruler of an entire kingdom, two hundred gold truly was nothing more than a number.
And somehow...
That only made Elysia want to strangle him more.