The morning light spilled across the chamber when Elias rose. He had slept little, as was his habit, but his mind was steady, clear.
When he opened the door, Nia was already there, waiting as if she hadn't left at all. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, her dress hastily tied, and her eyes—bright, fevered—found him at once.
"You're awake," she said, her voice trembling with excitement. "I thought you might… slip away again."
"I said I would stay," Elias replied, calm as ever.
Her breath escaped in a soft laugh, almost embarrassed. "I know. But sometimes I still dream you'll vanish if I blink."
Without hesitation, she stepped closer and took his sleeve, fingers curling against the fabric as though anchoring him. She didn't hide it—not her need, not her fear.
Elias didn't pull away. His calm gaze lowered to her hand, then returned to her face. "You've grown," he said simply. "Not just in years."
The words startled her; for a heartbeat, she only stared, before her lips curved into a shy, trembling smile. "You noticed."
"I notice everything," Elias answered.
Her cheeks flushed deeply. She leaned in just slightly, her voice lowering to a whisper that quivered with both boldness and shame. "Then you must know… how I feel about you."
The silence stretched. She braced herself for rejection, for his usual distance—yet it didn't come.
"I know," he said at last. No denial. No dismissal. Only steady acknowledgment.
Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might break her ribs. "And… you don't mind?"
His eyes softened—just slightly. "I don't."
For a moment, the world seemed to tilt. She wanted to throw herself against him, to bury her face in his chest, to claim him before anyone else could. Her fingers twitched, her breath hitched—
—but then his voice, quiet and precise, steadied her again.
"Not yet, Allurania. Not until it is clear. You know what I mean."
Her breath caught. She did know. She knew herself better than anyone—the storm of need inside her, the hunger that would consume everything if he ever gave her permission.
Still, she laughed softly, covering her flushed face with one hand. "You're cruel, Elias. To tell me not yet but still not letting go."
His gaze remained calm, but there was the faintest trace of something gentler beneath it. "Patience. If the time comes, there will be no uncertainty."
Nia pressed her lips together, a smile curving despite the heat flooding her face. She leaned against his arm without asking, her body trembling with the joy of being allowed even that much.
For the first time in years, she felt whole.
And Elias—though still composed, though his restraint never wavered—allowed her to stay there. Not pushing her away, not scolding, not closing the distance she so desperately needed.
Because he knew. He knew her feelings. And he did not mind.
Not yet.
---
Headmaid Scene
"Lord Elias!" The headmaid almost stumbled in her hurry. "Welcome back. I—there's something you should know."
Elias tilted his head. "Something?"
Her fingers twisted in her apron. "The princess… Allurania. She never let go of you, not once. Your old cloak? She kept it. Your broken quill? Locked in a box. And she—" the maid leaned closer, lowering her voice, "she painted you. Dozens of times. But she hides them like a thief hides gold."
Elias's lips curved slightly. "Paintings of me, hidden away?"
The maid nodded, embarrassed. "If she knows I told you, she'll scold me. But I thought… you should know."
Elias gave the smallest smile. "I won't tell her."
---
Garden Scene
The garden glowed with lanterns. Nia kicked her shoes off in the grass like a child.
"Three years and you come back still dressing like a monk," she teased, tugging his robe sleeve. "You really don't care about appearances, do you?"
"I do," Elias answered calmly, pressing soil around a flower root. "Just not the kind you mean."
"Mm, still the same sharp tongue," she grinned. "I should've guessed."
He straightened, dusting off his hands. "And you—still impatient. You planted that one too shallow. It'll die by morning."
She huffed, crouching beside him. "Then fix it for me, smart one."
He did, quiet and precise. They ended up side by side, dirt on their fingers, fireflies drifting lazily above.
Later, Elias leaned back on the garden sofa. Without asking, he lowered his head onto her lap.
Nia went stiff. "W-wait, you can't just—"
"I can," he said, eyes closed. "You're comfortable."
Her heart slammed against her ribs. "…You're heavier than I remember."
"You're softer than I remember," Elias murmured, lips almost tugging into a smile.
She bit her lip, trying to calm herself. "You—! You can't just say things like that with a straight face."
"I'm only stating facts."
"Facts, he says…" She exhaled, fingers hovering over his hair but not daring to touch. "Three years, Elias. Do you even know how much I—" She cut herself short, swallowing her words.
He didn't press. Just lay there, letting her voice fill the night.
---
At night:-
The moon poured silver into his chamber. Elias had loosened his robe before lying down, white fabric slipping off one smooth shoulder.
His pale collarbone caught the light; his skin looked softer than silk, untouched, flawless. His legs stretched across the sheets, the robe parting lazily, silver hair spilling like liquid light around him.
Nia pushed the door open.
She froze(ofc;))