Chapter 46 - I'm sorry
They say to cherish the small moments.
The quiet ones.
The ones that slip between everything loud and overwhelming the soft glances, the brief touches, the fleeting seconds where the world feels almost gentle. They say those are the moments that matter most, because they are the ones you never realize you're losing until they're already gone.
Standing in the center of that ballroom, with Achilles' hand still resting at my waist and the echo of his kiss still lingering on my lips, I think
I think I finally understood that.
Because for the first time in a very long time, I felt... full.
Not overwhelmed.
Not out of place.
Not like I was pretending to belong somewhere I didn't.
But like I was exactly where I was meant to be.
The music wrapped around us, warm and steady, the court slowly finding its rhythm again after the shock he had caused. Laughter returned, though softer now, cautious. Conversations resumed in hushed tones, every glance still drifting back toward us, toward him.
Toward the man who had just shattered their expectations without a second thought.
Achilles stood as he always did, unmoved, unreadable, carved from something cold and unyielding, but his hand remained at my waist, firm, grounding, a quiet claim that did not need to be spoken aloud.
I leaned into him without thinking.
Just slightly.
Just enough to feel him there.
And for a moment
Everything felt still.
Safe.
But the room was too loud.
Too full.
Too heavy with attention and expectation and everything that came with being seen.
I needed a moment.
Just one.
To breathe.
"I'll be right back," I said softly, turning my head just enough that only he could hear me. "I just need some air."
His hand tightened.
"I'll come with you."
The answer came instantly, without hesitation, without thought.
I smiled gently, placing my hand over his.
"There's no need," I said quietly. "I'll only be a few steps away."
His gaze dropped to mine.
Sharp.
Assessing.
As if weighing every possible risk, every unseen threat, every outcome that could unfold in the span of a single breath.
"I'll be fine," I added softly.
There was a pause.
A long one.
Then
Slowly
He released me.
"Stay where I can see you."
It wasn't a suggestion.
It was a command.
But beneath it
There was something else.
Something that felt dangerously close to concern.
"I will," I promised.
And then I stepped away.
The moment I passed through the ballroom doors, the world changed.
The music faded behind me, muffled by distance and thick stone walls. The warmth of the crowded hall gave way to the cool night air, soft and crisp against my skin, wrapping around me like something real.
Something grounding.
I exhaled slowly, the breath leaving me in a quiet rush as I stepped into the courtyard.
The sky stretched endlessly above me, deep and dark, scattered with stars that shimmered faintly like distant promises.
The moon hung low, casting silver light across the stone pathways, across the gardens trimmed into perfect shapes, across the quiet stillness of a place untouched by the chaos inside.
For a moment
I just stood there.
Breathing.
Letting the silence settle into me.
Letting the world feel... quiet again.
I stepped further into the courtyard, the soft fabric of my gown whispering against the ground as I moved. The cool air brushed against my skin, slipping through the edges of my sleeves, soothing the lingering warmth from the ballroom.
I stopped in the center.
And looked up.
The stars didn't change.
They didn't care who I was.
Queen.
Daughter.
Sacrifice.
They didn't bend or shift or judge.
They simply existed.
And for a moment
So did I.
"You always do this."
Elias' voice broke the silence behind me.
I didn't turn.
"Do what?"
"Disappear when things get overwhelming."
A faint smile touched my lips.
"I didn't disappear," I said softly. "I'm right here."
"You know what I mean."
"I just needed a moment," I said.
"That's fair."
He stepped back, giving me space to breathe, the faint scent of wine trailing behind him as he lazily swirled the glass in his hand. I stood there in silence, the quiet stretched, the night wrapping around me like something steady and unchanging.
For a second
It felt peaceful.
Until it didn't.
"It is a gorgeous night."
Her voice slipped into the silence like something sharp wrapped in silk.
I stiffened.
Slowly turning my head.
My stepmother stood beside me.
Perfect.
Composed.
Her presence felt... wrong.
Like something that didn't belong in this moment.
I inclined my head politely.
"It is," I agreed softly.
Her gaze lifted to the sky, following mine, as though we were sharing something simple. Something peaceful.
But there was nothing simple about her.
Not anymore.
"I wanted to speak with you," she said.
The tone was gentle. But something beneath it
Something darker
Her attention returned to me.
And for the first time. There was something honest in her eyes.
Something cold.
"I am sorry." The words landed strangely. Unnaturally. "...sorry?" I repeated quietly.
"For everything," she said.
Her voice softened, but not with warmth.
With control.
"For what happened to you. For the way your life is unfolding."
I watched her carefully.
Because this....
This was not kindness.
This was something else.
"I hope," she continued, "that one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me."
Her smile shifted.
Not wider.
Sharper.
"i just hope you understand."
A chill crept through me.
"Everything I have ever done," she said, her voice steady, deliberate, "was for survival. For my people. For my family." Her gaze locked onto mine. "Do you know what happens to weak kingdoms, Ophelia?"
I said nothing.
"They burn," she answered for me. "They fall. They are torn apart by those stronger than them."
Her voice remained calm.
Measured.
"As they should be."
My stomach tightened.
"You think kindness keeps people alive?" she asked quietly.
"You think softness protects anyone?"
Her head tilted slightly.
"Your mother believed that too."
The words struck deeper than anything else she had said.
"She believed love would be enough," my stepmother continued. "That goodness would shield her. That the world would be gentle simply because she was."
Her lips curved.
Mocking.
"And where is she now?"
I swallowed.
Said nothing.
"Gone," she said softly. "Because she refused to understand the truth."
Her gaze sharpened.
"The world does not reward kindness, Ophelia."
"It consumes it."
Her voice dropped slightly.
"And the only way to survive it..."
A pause.
"...is to be willing to sacrifice."
The word echoed.
Heavy.
Final.
"You cannot build something strong without breaking something else," she said.
"You cannot protect what matters without choosing what doesn't."
Her eyes softened slightly.
Almost pitying.
"You can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs."
My breath caught.
"And you," she said gently, "were simply unlucky enough to be the egg."
Confusion flickered through me.
Something was wrong.
I opened my mouth
To speak.
To ask.
Something moved behind me.
Fast.
Too fast.
Pain exploded at the back of my head.
Sharp.
Blinding.
The world fractured.
The stars above me shattered into pieces, spinning, slipping away as my vision blurred and darkened.
I heard Elias shout in anguish...
Felt my body give...
Felt the ground rise to meet me...
The last thing I saw was the sky.
The last thing I felt was the cold.
And the last thing I heard
Was her voice.
Soft.
Almost regretful.
"...I am sorry."
A pause.
Then
Colder.
Empty.
"She's all yours."
And the world disappeared.