Adelheid furrowed her brows—not expecting such a question.
"Yes, my name is Adelheid, Your Majesty."
The King chuckled, but it felt more like a mocking laugh directed at himself. "Forgive me, Lady Adelheid. That was a very foolish question to ask."
Adelheid blinked. She, too, found the his question odd.
"..I just thought.. her.. you.." He sighed then looked back at her, his expression softening.
Then, without warning, his fingers lightly grazed her cheek, instantly making the latter stiffen, before taking a step back. "Your Majesty.. are you alright?"
"You look just like her. It's baffling." Zamiel took in another deep sigh, and ran his fingers through his hair.
Then he looked back down at Adelheid, who evidently, was confused.
He chuckled, his relaxed composure returning.
"Apologies, my lady. I hope I am not coming off as odd?"
But without waiting for her response he suddenly entwined her fingers in his, catching Adelheid off guard again.
"Come with me." Zamiel said, leading her down the hall with their fingers still entwined. Adelheid couldn't even utter a word before he strode forward, still holding her hand.
She had no choice but to follow.
They soon arrived at a set of large, carved doors. Only then did he release her hand, stepping forward to grasp the handles before pulling one of the massive doors open.
Adelheid swallowed hard as he stepped aside and gestured for her to enter.
But her feet refused to move at first.
This wasn't a normal sitting room, nor was it a council chamber or a courtly hall.
This was evidently his wing of the palace.
The King's private chambers.
A place where she heard—few—especially women—were ever summoned.
Why had he brought her here?
Did he want to.. no. They weren't even engagement yet.
He wouldn't do anything to her, right?
Her heart pounded against her ribs as she took a steady breath and forced her feet forward.
The door closed firmly behind her, and silence filled the room.
Adelheid stood still, gripping the fabric of her gown as she took in her surroundings. The chamber was large but not overly decorated. Tall windows, partly covered by thick curtains, let in slivers of moonlight that reflected on the polished floors.
Then, her eyes followed him.
Zamiel walked toward a bookshelf, his back partly turned to her, fingers trailing along the spines of several books.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Adelheid swallowed. Was she supposed to say something?
She had been brought here, yet he made no move to speak.
She took a slow breath before finally breaking the silence. "Your Majesty." She said carefully. "Why.. why are we here?"
Zamiel did not turn right away. His fingers paused on a book, and his head tilted slightly, as if deep in thought. Then, at last, he faced her.
His gaze was calm yet unreadable, studying her—not with admiration or warmth, but with curiosity.
"Are you scared I may do something?" He asked, his lips curving in the faintest smile.
"I am." Adelheid answered matter-of-factly.
His lips twitched slightly, amused.
Then a moment of silence passed.
The firelight cast a soft glow on his face, his expression unreadable. Then, with a nod, he gestured to a chair near the fireplace. "Sit."
Adelheid hesitated before walking over, keeping her posture straight. Zamiel moved to a small table near the window and poured himself a drink.
"You look like someone I once knew." He said, though his voice lower now.
"Someone you knew?"
"Yes."
Then, finally, he spoke the name. "Yilda Montclair."
Adelheid's breath hitched, fingers clutching instantly her gown.
That was her older sister.
She had barely been a child when Yilda passed, but she still remembered her—beautiful, confident, smart. People had adored her, and their parents had placed all their hopes on her. But then, just like that, she was gone.
Adelheid's hands curled into fists. Why was he bringing her up? How did he know her?
King Zamiel suddenly stood and walked across the room.
Adelheid's eyes followed him as he approached a corner where a full-length mirror stood. He stopped beside it, then turned his head slightly, motioning for her to come forward.
She hesitated.
"Come." His voice was calm yet firm.
Adelheid swallowed and forced herself to move.
Zamiel didn't look at her. Instead, he raised a hand and gestured toward the mirror. "Look."
She did.
Her own reflection stared back at her—wide dark eyes, delicate features, full lips pressed together in a thin line.
Then, Zamiel's voice cut through the silence.
"The eyes.." He murmured. "They are the same."
Was he referring to her sister?
His hand lifted slightly, not quite touching her but gesturing toward the mirror. "The nose. The chin."
Adelheid's breath hitched as he leaned in slightly, his gaze focused solely on their reflections.
"The hair."
And then—
"The lips.." He added, his tone quieter now.
Her heart stuttered. She immediately took a small step back, putting distance between them. "How do you know my sister?"
Zamiel stilled. His gaze shifted slightly, as though he hadn't expected the question—or perhaps he had, but he wasn't ready to answer.
For a moment, silence stretched between them, the only sound being the faint crackling of the fireplace. Then, at last, he spoke.
"We were in love."
Adelheid's breath caught.
"I loved her." He continued. "And she loved me."
Her sister and the King were.. lovers? How?
Yilda had died when Adelheid was still a child. By the time she was old enough to understand court affairs, no one ever spoke of her sister.
She lifted her gaze to meet Zamiel's once more. His face remained unreadable.
"I... I didn't know." She admitted, her voice softer than she expected.
To her surprise, Zamiel let out a chuckle. "Of course you didn't. No one knew."
Oh. No wonder her mother hadn't used it to her advantage yet.
"You were just a child back then." He added.
Adelheid pressed her lips together. She wasn't sure what to say.
For a brief moment, the firelight caught his features in a way that made him look... distant. As if he were seeing something—or someone—not in the room.
Then, before she could dwell on it, his face changed. The sadness was sudden, subtle but unmistakable.
Before she could react, he turned away sharply.
Adelheid froze.
Was the King.. crying?
She finally heard him inhale slowly.
Then he turned back and now the sadness was gone. Instead, a small, polite smile rested on his lips.
"Forgive me." He said, his tone carefully composed. "I didn't mean to keep you here for so long."
Adelheid blinked, but then, just a quickly, a frown settled on her face.
"If you love my sister, why do you wish to wed me?"