26. Elena #2
His hand catches mine before I can go. “If you need anything,” he starts, a protective note in his voice, “you come get me.”
I squeeze his fingers. “I will.”
And then I walk out, already bracing myself for whatever waits on the other side of that door.
The sitting room stills the moment I enter it.
Prince Weston stands near the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back, posture immaculate, like a blade polished for display. When his gaze lifts to me, it sharpens with unmistakable brightness, the kind that projects relief while measuring weakness.
“Queen Elena,” he greets, already crossing the room. “It’s so good to see you safe.”
His hand closes around mine before I can step aside.
I look down at the contact, his fingers warm, familiar, unwelcome, and gently but firmly I pull away. My spine stays straight, my voice level. “Thank you for your concern.”
I maneuver around him, letting the silence linger long enough to remind him where he is.
“I was told you wished to discuss something urgent.”
He doesn’t retreat. If anything, he drifts closer, as though proximity itself might sway me. “I did,” he says. “After what occurred at the tournament, my being here today cannot be a coincidence.”
My brow lifts despite myself. “Then enlighten me. Why are you here, Prince Weston?”
“Official business,” he replies smoothly. “You must know how much I value our relationship.”
I stare at him for a moment, searching his face for any clue behind his carefully placed mask. “Our relationship?”
He ducks his head, a small smile slipping across his lips. “Why to discuss how we can strengthen our relations, of course.”
“I didn’t think there was any need to. As you said, our countries have always valued each other’s partnerships.”
A sly smirk crosses his lips. “Of course, of course.. However, my father and brother have received some interesting…offers. Lucrative ones.”
My lips press together. The word tastes sour. “What kind of lucrative offers?”
He doesn’t answer, but his expression does. The flicker of discomfort, the subtle tightening around his eyes, it’s confirmation enough.
“If you’re here, it’s because I assume you would like to continue the good relations between both our nations,” I begin.
His eyes gleam. “I would have to agree. I want nothing more than to maintain my relationship with you.”
I sigh, rubbing the side of my temples. It’s been a long day, and I’m not in the mood for riddles. “Well, if that is all…”
A sly smile reaches his lips. “Actually, we need to discuss the offers I mentioned. North Sosova cannot ignore what’s been placed on the table.”
My eyes narrow into slits. “Mutually beneficial ones. Our current agreements are mutually beneficial, generous, and profitable for both sides. How generous are these other offers?” My last words come out more as a demand at the notion there may be more than one on the table.
He winces, slightly, stepping closer.
Every instinct urges me to retreat, but I refuse to give him that satisfaction. I hold my ground, even as the space between us tightens, even as his presence presses insistently against my composure.
“It mirrors Zurdonia’s terms,” he responds. “With one difference. North Sosova would receive ten percent more in profit.”
Ten percent.
The breath catches in my chest, sharp and involuntary, but I swallow it down before it can escape. “Ten percent,” I repeat, quieter now.
When I lift my eyes to his, something settles into place, cold, resolute. “Who is this deal with?”
His stance shifts. His gaze slips away, just briefly. “A private backer.”
A laugh tears out of me before I can stop it, too sharp, too close to hysteria. “No,” I say. “This is not a private backer.”
I step forward now, the words burning as they leave my mouth. “You can’t possibly believe the timing of this is a coincidence. My country is attacked, my husband framed for treason, a member of my court kidnapped, and suddenly North Sosova is offered a better deal?”
His voice firms. “Do you have proof?”
I shoot back, “Do you? Do you even know who you’re aligning yourselves with?”
His expression tires. “My intention was not to upset you, Elena. As I said, I believe in our relationship. We can do wonderful things together in the future. I came as a courtesy, to see if anything could be done. I would prefer to continue working with you and Zurdonia.”
“Then don’t entertain the deal,” I say firmly. “You can choose to pick Zurdonia instead.”
Silence stretches between us, taut and expectant. I don’t blink. I won’t. Something about this entire interaction doesn’t feel right. If he thinks there is even an ounce of desperation here; he won’t get it from me.
“If there were some way,” he begins carefully, “to strengthen relations between our countries…”
He reaches for me again. This time with both hands.
I manage to carefully sidestep before any contact is made. “Prince Weston, I’ve had a long day. Can we just get to what it is that you are after?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I always thought we had good chemistry.”
My brows furrow together. “I’m not sure–”
He steps closer, a prickle of unease slithering up my spine. “I did after all help clear Alexei’s name…”
My teeth grind together. “And I conveyed to you my appreciation previously,” I reply sharply.
Another step, a gleam in his eyes now. “Elena–”
His hand grazes my fingers.
I jerk back as if I was burned. “You are bold,” I voice coldly, “and profoundly inappropriate. Do not touch me again without my permission when it is not given.”
His lips press into a thin line before he smooths it away. “Forgive me if I overstep. I only ask that you consider the benefits.”
I scoff. “Benefits?” Rage coils tight and sudden in my chest. “How dare you,” I shout. “You come into my palace and propose this while my husband, the king, is under this very roof?”
His hands raise as he takes a step back. “Please, my only intention was for you to consider all your options. I was your selection at one time.”
“A mistake that would have surely been,” I retort icily.
He scoffs, disdain finally cracking through his polished mask. “A mistake?” His voice manages to sound affronted. “I am a prince. I can offer you resources, connections, and finances. I can offer you a lot more than a king who has brought nothing but danger and chaos to your doorstep.”
My voice drops. “Prince Weston. Be mindful of what you say next.”
He ignores the warning, stepping closer, agitation bleeding into his tone. “He was never meant to be your husband. You need stability. A king who can?—”
“I choose him.” The words cut clean through the air. “I choose him a thousand times over. I married him because I love him. Because he is my equal. Together, we will build something better than what you think power and stability look like.”
He snorts. “And how is that working out for Zurdonia?”
I straighten, every inch of me hardening. “You dare insult my king in my kingdom and expect my favor?”
He tries to speak.
I lift my hand. “I’ve heard enough,” I tell him. I step forward, and for the first time, he steps back. “If this is how North Sosova conducts business, then I see no benefit in continuing relations.”
“Queen Elena?—”
“My husband,” I continue quietly, dangerously, “is ten times the man you, your brother, or your father will ever be. I will not be intimidated. I will not be insulted. And I will not bend.”
His mask finally slips. “You will regret this.”
I shake my head. “The only thing I regret is ever allowing a weasel like you into my kingdom. You are no longer welcome here.”
“Zurdonia will suffer?—”
“I’ve already thought about it. Push me further, and you’ll learn exactly what it means to have Zurdonia as an enemy.”
His eyes widen.
I feel it then—the shift in the air, the familiar weight of presence behind me.
“Elena?” Alexei’s voice.
Without turning, I say, “Prince Weston was just leaving.”
Alexei’s reply is low and lethal. “My wife has asked you to leave. Do it.”
Prince Weston storms toward the door, only to stop short when Alexei doesn’t move.
“And if you ever touch my wife again without permission,” Alexei threatens softly, “it will be the last thing you do.”
Prince Weston leaves without another word.
The moment the door closes, everything drains out of me. My hands come to my face, breath finally shaking loose.
Alexei is there in seconds. “Are you alright?”
I nod, barely. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough,” he says. “Braydon came for me.”
My brows pinch. “This is bad. Losing this trade?—”
“We’ll figure it out.” His hands rub warmth into my arms.
I look up at him, vulnerable despite myself. “Will we?”
“As long as we’re together,” he urges, then hesitates, “we always do… unless?—”
I growl. “Don’t.”
He rubs his neck. “I’m not a noble. I don’t broker deals.”
“I don’t want that,” I cut in, forcing him to meet my eyes. “I want you. You make me feel safe. Seen. You challenge me. You never let me give up on myself. That’s worth more than a thousand trade deals.”
Silence stretches between us, softer now.
He smiles, slow and lazy.
“What?” I ask.
He pulls me into his chest and kisses my forehead. “I’d have accepted an ‘I love you.’”
I smack his chest. “Thank you. And you always know how to make everything better.”
“Always,” he murmurs. “We’ll figure this out. Like we always do.”