Chapter 10:
Elara didn't sleep.
The bed was too large, too soft, too unfamiliar. Every time she closed her eyes, the memory of Adrian's presence returned — the way he spoke calmly while controlling everything around him.
Even her life.
Morning arrived quietly.
A soft knock sounded at the door before it opened slightly. A woman stepped in, dressed neatly in black and white.
"Good morning, Mrs. Blackwood," she said politely. "I'm here to help you prepare."
Prepare for what?
Elara's chest tightened. "Prepare… how?"
The woman smiled, but it was professional. "You'll be attending an event this evening."
An event?
Before Elara could ask another question, the woman gestured toward the closet. When the doors opened, Elara froze.
Rows of dresses. Elegant. Expensive. Not meant for someone like her.
Her fingers curled slowly into the bedsheet.
So this was it.
She dressed in silence, allowing strangers to decide her appearance, her image, her place beside a man she still didn't understand. By the time everything was done, she felt less like a person and more like something arranged.
When Adrian entered the room later, Elara didn't look at him.
"You didn't tell me," she said quietly.
Adrian stopped.
"I would have," he replied. "If there had been time."
She laughed softly — not amused, not angry. Just tired. "You always say things like that."
That made him pause.
Elara finally lifted her gaze. "Do I ever get a choice? Or do you just decide what's best for me and call it protection?"
The words weren't sharp. They were honest.
That hurt more.
Adrian stepped closer, his voice lower now. "I didn't marry you to control you."
"Then why does it feel like I'm always the last to know?" she asked.
Silence filled the room.
For the first time since they met, Adrian looked… unsure.
"You're right," he said after a moment. "And I won't excuse it."
Elara blinked, surprised.
"I should have told you," he continued. "I will tell you next time. Even when it's inconvenient."
It wasn't a promise wrapped in poetry.
But it was real.
She studied his face, searching for something false — and didn't find it.
"I don't need protection all the time," she said softly. "Sometimes I just need honesty."
Adrian nodded once. "Then that's where we start."
Something shifted between them — not trust, not yet — but the fragile beginning of it.
And neither of them noticed the way the staff outside the door listened quietly.
Or how tonight's public appearance would test that fragile understanding in ways neither was prepared for.