Elsie's eyes shut close, feeling her heart beat loudly against her chest. The late queen's ghost lingers in her thoughts, but so does the memory of that searing, undeniable pull inside her at the temple.
When she finally speaks, it was no more than a whisper. "If my wolf truly chose him… then I pray he is worthy of it."
Misae's thumb brushes her cheek once more, her gaze soft yet steady. "He may not have been the man the late queen needed, Elsie. But wolves change… sometimes only when they are given reason to. Perhaps you are that reason."
Elsie's breath stutters. The words are meant to soothe, yet they carry a suffocating pressure she isn't sure she is strong enough to bear. Still, for the first time this night, she lets herself cling to the thought—not of the monster in the rumors, nor the widow-maker from whispered tales—but of a bond so fierce it has claimed her even before the vows, even before she'd seen his true self.
She lets out a shuddering breath. "Then I can only hope the Moon Goddess was right to bind me to him."
🤍
Misae smoothes the last of Elsie's hair back from her face, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "There. Fit for a queen, even in her sleep," she murmurs with a small, proud smile.
Elsie catches her hand before she can pull away. Their eyes meet—one pair weary with youth and fear, the other steady, brimming with the kind of affection that no rule or duty can command.
"Stay with me a while longer," Elsie whispers. She does not want to return to her new husband just yet.
Misae brushes her thumb over Elsie's knuckles. "I'll stay until you no longer need me. But the night is late, little one, and tomorrow you have to rise early." She leans forward, pressing a kiss to Elsie's temple, motherly and warm. "Rest, and remember what I said. Whether you want it or not, your wolf chose him. That is a gift… and a shield, if you let it be."
Elsie nods her head, her throat tight. "Thank you. For everything. I don't know how I would've endured any of this without you."
"You don't have to," Misae says simply. "You'll never truly be alone, Elsie. Not while I draw breath."
The words cling to her heart as she finally releases Misae's hand and steps toward the door. With one last look back—at the woman who had been more mother than her own—Elsie slips into the dim corridor, her candlelight flickering against the stones.
The torches along the stone corridor burn low, their flames throwing long shadows against the walls. Elsie's slippers whispers across the floor as she makes her way toward her chamber, her mind still heavy with Misae's words.
She rounds the bend—only to stop short.
A slim figure leans against the wall, arms folded, her dark hair catching the faint torchlight.
Elsie startles when the shadows ahead shift into form. Her candlelight caught the pale curve of a face, a familiar one, waiting with folded arms.
"Oh, finally," her step-sister sighs, pushing herself from the wall. "I've been waiting in this dark for so long. You always take so long to depart from Misae."
Elsie steadies her breath, clutching the candlestick a little tighter. "Why would you wait here? You should have been in bed hours ago." she huffs, "You scared me."
Her sister tilts her head, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they sweep over Elsie's face. "I wanted to see you. You've been… distant tonight. Are you okay?"
Elsie hesitates, the hand that's not holding the candle stick clenches around her silken night robe. The question is simple, but it presses into the cracks she'd tried to hide all evening. "I'm fine," she answers softly, not wanting to scare or worry her sister.
Celia arches a brow at her, stepping closer into the halo of candlelight. "That's not fine speaking." She reaches out, brushing her fingers against Elsie's sleeve as though to anchor her. "Did he say something? The King?"
"No," Elsie whispers, shaking her head quickly. "He didn't. It isn't that."
"Then what is it?" The gentleness in her sister's voice makes Elsie feel even guiltier. She doesn't want to hide anything from Celia but at the same time Elsie doesn't want to burden Celia with unnecessary worries. "You've been crying. I can see it. Don't lie to me, sister."
For a moment Elsie looks at her, then she lifts her chin, voice steadier than she feels. "Some things are mine to keep, Celi. Even from you."
The words hang in the chilly air between them, heavy and uneasy, while the torchlight flickers against stone with no steady warmth to provide.
Her sister's eyes narrow slightly, but only for a moment, concern is fast to brim her eyes, her smile soft. "If you say so. But secrets have a way of weighing people down, sister. Be careful you don't sink beneath yours."
Elsie reaches to touch her hand briefly, eyes full of love she has for this one. "Celi, sometimes tears come even when we don't mean them to. But I'm well, I promise. You mustn't carry my burdens on your shoulders." She says, her words a mere whisper for the frosty wind to carry.
For a moment, silence lingers in the cold hallway, just them looking into each other's eyes. Finally her sister gives a reluctant nod, though her eyes still search Elsie's face. "If you say so… I only wish to keep you safe."
"And I know you do." Elsie squeezes her hand in hers, lips stretching into a soft smile. "That's why you're dearest to me."
Her sister's lips curve up faintly, though unease still flickers in her eyes before she finally steps back into the shadows. Elsie watches her go with her heart weighing inside her chest, the candle trembling slightly in her hand.
When is she going to see her again, once tomorrow has passed?
When will her feet cross this Palace's halls again?