Chapter 37-The Man Who Stayed
The argument below us has somehow moved from the fountain to the eastern garden.
I do not even know how.
One moment, Veronica is standing beside the roses with her arms crossed.
At the same time, Elias talks with enough hand gestures to qualify as interpretive theater, and the next thing, they are halfway down the stone path, still bickering like two people physically incapable of ending a conversation peacefully.
It has been like this for weeks.
Every room they enter becomes a battlefield.
Every discussion somehow turns personal.
One of them storms away.
The other follows.
Then they continue arguing somewhere else.
Honestly, I am beginning to think they survive entirely on frustration and mutual emotional damage.
I sit curled against the large window overlooking the gardens, one hand resting absentmindedly over my stomach while I watch them pace back and forth beneath the evening sun.
The castle feels different lately. Heavier.
More crowded. Diplomats fill halls that used to stay quiet, guards rotate constantly through corridors, servants whisper in corners, and every room feels occupied by tension waiting for permission to become disaster.
Maybe that is why seeing Elias and Veronica like this unsettles me so deeply.
Nothing feels steady anymore.
Not politics.
Not kingdoms.
Not people.
And now even they are falling apart.
"They're going to destroy each other," I whisper.
Behind me, the soft sound of paper being set aside reaches my ears before warm hands settle against my waist.
Achilles steps between my knees slowly, resting his forehead briefly against mine before following my gaze toward the gardens below.
Elias says something dramatic enough that Veronica visibly recoils in irritation.
Achilles sighs softly through his nose.
"They'll be fine."
"You've said that for a month."
"And I still believe it."
I turn slightly toward him.
"How?"
His arms tighten around me gently as he leans one shoulder against the side of the window frame beside me, keeping me tucked carefully against him like he does whenever he thinks too much.
"I tried talking to Elias," I admit quietly. "Every time I ask if he's alright, he smiles and changes the subject."
A faint knowing look crosses Achilles' face.
"That sounds like him."
"And Veronica pretends she isn't upset while threatening to stab anyone who asks questions."
"That also sounds like her."
I sigh heavily.
Below us, Veronica suddenly stops walking and spins around sharply enough that Elias nearly walks directly into her.
He grins.
The idiot actually grins.
I stare at them in disbelief.
"How are they still functioning?"
I look back toward the gardens again, watching Veronica jab one finger into Elias's chest while he says something that visibly makes her more frustrated.
For a long moment, Achille says nothing.
His fingers move slowly against my side absentmindedly, thumb brushing back and forth in quiet comfort while his eyes remain fixed on the gardens below.
Relationships are not always easy; just because two people are fighting, it doesn't mean they don't love each other ."
Something about the way he says it makes me look at him fully.
"The problem was never the kiss," he says quietly. His gaze drifts back toward Elias. "Elias knows Veronica didn't want that man touching her. He saw her shove him away. He saw her panic."
"Then why is he angry?"
Achilles exhales slowly.
"Because Elias is the kind of person who loves loudly."
The words settle carefully between us.
"He always has."
I stay quiet, listening.
"When Elias loves something, he wants the entire world to know it." A faint smile pulls briefly at Achilles' mouth. "He's like a dog bringing you its favorite toy because it thinks you should be just as excited as it is."
"That is strangely accurate."
"It's unfortunate how accurate it is."
Below us, Elias reaches toward Veronica again while still arguing.
She slaps his hand away without even looking.
He immediately reaches for her again anyway.
Achilles watches them with the exhausted patience of a man who has dealt with this behavior for years.
"He doesn't hide affection," Achille says quietly. "He never learned how."
"So why is their relationship such a secret?"
"It's because of Veronica's fears; it has nothing to do with him ."
A shadow crosses his expression briefly.
"She loves him," Achille says softly. "Enough to fear what the world will do to him if people knew about them."
I think about the whispers surrounding Veronica.
Bloodhound.
Monster.
Madwoman.
Executioner.
People speak about her as if she were born cruel instead of shaped into it.
"She's trying to protect him," I whisper.
"Yes."
"But it's hurting him anyway."
His eyes shift toward me slowly.
"Yes."
Below us, Veronica finally goes quiet.
Elias says something softer now.
Something we cannot hear.
But I see the shift in her shoulders immediately.
Small.
Subtle.
But there.
"She thinks she's ruining his life," Achille says quietly.
I blink slightly.
"What?"
"She believes he deserves better than her."
The sadness in his voice catches me off guard.
Because there's no judgment in it.
Only understanding.
"She thinks people will look at him differently because of her," he continues. "That they'll see what he could've had and compare it to what he chose."
I look back toward the gardens.
Toward the woman who terrifies entire kingdoms.
And suddenly she looks tired.
"She keeps trying to push him away for his own good," Achille murmurs. "And Elias keeps taking that personally because he loves her enough to stay."
Below us, Elias suddenly says something that makes Veronica cover her face briefly in frustration.
Even now, despite everything, he still finds ways to make her flustered.
It's honestly impressive.
"He's trying so hard," I whisper.
Achilles smiles faintly.
"He always does."
There's something unexpectedly warm in his voice now.
Something softer than usual.
I look at him carefully.
"You almost sound like you care about it ."
"He's my uncle, of course i do, "he says.
But the words sound heavier than that.
More important.
"In my own odd way," he murmurs.
His gaze lowers slightly.
And when he speaks again, his voice sounds younger somehow.
"He took care of us as kids; he became our father ." Achilles pauses carefully. "When my mother died, my father disappeared into duty. He became just a man on the throne that i share blood with, he stopped knowing how to be a person outside of grief."
There's no anger in his voice.
Only honesty.
"He loved us," Achille says quietly. "But loving someone and knowing how to care for them are different things."
I slide my hand into his.
His fingers tighten around mine automatically.
"Asher adapted quickly," he continues softly. "He always understood people better than I did."
A faint smile appears briefly.
"But I was angry. I didn't want tutors. Guards. Council members." His jaw tightens faintly. "I wanted my father and mother back, I wanted my family," he says while shrugging
"Elias came back to court one day and took one look at us and chose to stay," Achille says softly.
The words carry something almost reverent.
"He hated court. Still does." A faint amusement touches his face briefly. "He spent most of his life avoiding politics whenever possible."
"That sounds right."
"But he stayed."
His gaze drifts somewhere distant now.
"He became our parent."
The words land heavily.
"He taught us how to fight. How to negotiate. How to survive court." His expression softens slightly. "But he also taught us how to be children again."
I smile faintly.
"When I showed interest in painting, he encouraged it.
" Achilles huffs softly. "Dragged me through museums while pretending to complain the entire time.
He took Asher to theater performances constantly.
" A small smile tugs at his mouth. "Father thought it was impractical. Elias bought him front-row seats."
Something warm settles painfully inside my chest.
"He was the one who stayed during storms," Achille says quietly. "The one who sat beside our beds when we woke up scared."
I blink at him softly.
"He used to read until we fell asleep again."
"I know Elias," Achille says eventually. "Better than most people do. He doesn't give up on people easily."
"You sound very certain."
"I am."
His thumb brushes softly against my waist.
"Elias will fight for you until he destroys himself doing it." His gaze lowers slightly. "But only if you still want to fight too."
I frown softly.
"The man has a kind heart." His expression darkens faintly. "Even though he's annoying as hell."
"If Veronica truly wanted to leave," Achille says quietly, "he will let her."
"Even if it destroyed him?"
"Yes."
The certainty in his voice breaks something inside me a little.
Because gods
That kind of love sounds unbearably painful.
"He loves her enough to choose her happiness over his own. And she loves him enough to do the same."
Below us, Veronica says something softer now.
Elias leans closer to hear it.
And for the first time in weeks
Neither of them looks angry.
"They'll figure it out," Achille says quietly.
"You really believe that?"
He looks down at me finally, and there is something painfully calm in his eyes. Something ancient and tired and knowing all at once.
"Yes," he says softly. "And you live in a storybook fantasy where love always finds a way." His thumb brushes absently against my waist. "Now we get to see if that's true."