Six years ago…
Two months after the wedding of Selene and Elyas.
Empress Selene sat inside her study reading letters and petitions from various officials and stakeholders.
Several pressing matters lingered in her mind.
One of them was the Queen Mother’s instruction regarding producing an heir with Elyas.
Winning a war felt easier than imagining such a task at the moment.
Especially when the subject concerned was Elyas.
Impulsive.
Annoying.
Nagging.
Educated—yet determined to behave otherwise.
Light footsteps hurried toward the study, announcing another presence.
“Your Majesty, Noble Consort Elyas requests an audience with you,” the guard outside informed her.
“Tell him I am bus—” she began.
But another voice interrupted.
“Elene!!”
Elyas stormed into the study without permission.
Again.
The guard immediately retreated, unwilling to witness another conflict.
“Elene, look at me,” Elyas whined.
“What?” Selene answered without lifting her head, her gaze fixed on the letter in her hand.
“Why didn’t you come to meet me?
I sent you letters but you never responded.” Elyas pouted.
Without even looking at him, Selene could already picture his appearance.
Layers of powder.
Lip stains and blush.
Heavy jewellery.
Strange colored robes.
And a hairstyle resembling a jeweled nest”
Leorin’s smiling face flashed through her thoughts.
A beautiful young man.
Elegant posture.
Gentle smile.
Courteous manners.
Her heart softened instinctively.
“Elene!!
Are you even listening to me?” Elyas raised his voice.
“Mind yourself, Noble Consort.”
Her cold tone silenced him.
Finally, she lifted her head.
And looked at him.
Exactly as expected.
Her lips twitched faintly in distaste.
“Elene…
I am sorry, but I miss you.” Elyas stepped closer.
“Will you visit my palace?
Nothing extravagant.
Just a simple dinner.”
Hope filled his eyes.
Love.
Admiration.
Longing.
The kind reserved only for someone deeply in love.
“Do not call me Elene,” Selene said coldly.
“You should address me properly, as a consort ought to.”
“No.” Elyas smiled lightly.
“I am not like your other consorts.
Formal.”
“I like calling you Elene.
I feel closer to you when I do.”
Ignoring her displeasure entirely.
“I would prefer proper etiquette,” Selene replied, inhaling slowly.
“No.
“I will call you Elene.”
“This is my love language.”
Selene’s patience thinned.
“Consort Elyas.”
“Behave according to your position for once and address me with my title.”
Her voice sharpened.
“I order you to follow palace etiquette.”
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
“I refuse.”
His smile faded slightly.
“The day I stop calling you Elene…”
For the first time, his voice softened.
“…you should know that the Elyas who loved you is losing himself.”
He lowered his eyes.
“Disappearing from your life.”
Silence.
Selene stared at him.
Then replied more sharply than intended—
“I shall wait for that day.”
Elyas froze.
His eyes widened.
For a moment, something dimmed inside them.
Then—
A faint smile returned.
Soft.
Melancholic.
“I will wait for you tonight…”
He looked toward her one last time.
“For dinner.”
Then he quietly left the study.
And with his departure—
Selene’s resolve to never visit his Palace only hardened further.