Court of Conquest

Chapter 27

The atmosphere in Malachi's office was heavy with tension, thick as the shadows dancing across the walls. It was just him and me, the air tingling with unspoken words and withheld secrets. Now, as I looked into his intense gaze, I understood why he had been absent for so much of the night. Dealing with those who dared to breach the palace's defenses must have been a daunting task, one he bore with the weight of responsibility etched into every line of his face.

As I stood there, feeling the weight of his scrutiny, I couldn't help but wonder what he expected of me. Did he doubt my abilities? Was that why he kept me in the dark about the palace's security breaches? The realization stung, a bitter twist in the pit of my stomach. After all the effort I had poured into tonight's events, after all the risks I had taken, did he not trust me?

"Elara," his voice cut through the silence, shattering my thoughts like glass. "What are you thinking, darling?" His tone was smooth, but there was an underlying edge to it, a hint of challenge that made me bristle.

I straightened my posture, meeting his gaze head-on. The weight of my emotions threatened to crush me as I poured my heart out to Malachi. His office, once a bastion of power and authority, now felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken words and unfulfilled promises. With each syllable that escaped my lips, I felt the walls closing in, trapping me in a web of uncertainty and doubt.

"I... I don't know," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze as I crossed the room to sit across from him. "I don't know what to think right now, Malachi," I confessed, my eyes locking with his in a silent plea for understanding.

The words tumbled out in a torrent, each one heavy with the weight of my fears and frustrations. "I'm scared for my family and what this all means for them. I'm upset that the night I worked so hard for, the unity I desired, has perished. And I'm angry at you," I confessed, my voice trembling with emotion.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of my ragged breaths. Then, without warning, I felt a tear slip down my cheek, a silent testament to the turmoil raging inside me.

But as I looked into Malachi's eyes, something shifted. The anger, the hurt, the uncertainty—they all melted away, leaving behind a raw vulnerability that I had never dared to show before. "Darling..." he began, his voice gentle, but I couldn't bear to hear his excuses.

"I know that you have responsibilities, Malachi," I interrupted, my voice trembling with emotion. "I know that I'm just the daughter of some Stelaran noble that you can't trust, but I thought you had looked beyond that. I thought that I could trust you, but trust runs both ways, and it became apparent tonight that you don't trust me."

The words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and unspoken longing. And as I looked at him, really looked at him, I realized just how much I cared for this man. What had begun as a political arrangement to help my family had blossomed into something more—a connection I couldn't deny, feelings I couldn't suppress.

He made me feel valued, significant, but tonight, all of that seemed to vanish in the wake of his betrayal. If he truly valued me, if he truly cared, he would have been honest with me. He would have trusted me with the truth. Instead, I was left out in the cold, alone and adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

As I moved to wipe away my tears, I heard the soft rustle of fabric as Malachi rose from his seat and came to sit beside me. His touch was gentle as he took my chin in his hand, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. There was a pain etched into his features, a raw vulnerability that mirrored my own.

"Elara," he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion. "Please... please don't say that." His thumb brushed against my cheek, wiping away the tears that stained my skin, but I couldn't bear to look at him when he seemed so genuinely hurt. His pain only served to deepen my own, a constant reminder of the chasm that had formed between us.