Two years. It had been two long years since Elias had gone off to war, and so much had changed.
The war had ended in victory, and the kingdom celebrated with a grand feast that lasted for days. The streets were filled with joy and song, banners flying proudly in every corner of the realm. Yet, even amidst all the celebration, something was missing. Elias.
As the years passed, I had become a young woman—still mischievous, still energetic, and ambitious. But it was clear that I had also grown. My once-childish behavior had been tempered by experience, though I still managed to entertain those around me—much to the dismay of my tutors and the court.
But the most striking change, beyond the festivities, was the manner in which Elias returned.
I had dreamed of this moment for months—the moment Elias would step through the palace gates again, the moment I would see him. I had heard the tales of his battles, the horrors he'd witnessed, the sacrifices he'd made. But nothing could have prepared me for the man who returned.
The Elias who strode into the palace that day was not the same Elias who had left.
He was cold. Stoic. His eyes, once warm with life and laughter, had grown distant—seemingly looking beyond me, as though he saw something far away, something beyond the palace walls. His face had hardened, and there was a tension in his every movement.
I spotted him in the courtyard—a tall, stoic figure in a military uniform, his broad shoulders bearing the weight of all that he had endured. My heart leapt, and I ran toward him without thinking.
"Elias!" I shouted, my voice ringing with excitement and longing, though I could already feel the distance between us.
He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto mine. For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a flicker of recognition, something warm and familiar—but it vanished almost as quickly.
"Princess Charlotte," he said, his tone flat, distant. He nodded briefly, as if acknowledging my presence, but his gaze never wavered from the horizon.
I couldn't hide my confusion. "Elias, it's me! Don't you remember me?" My voice trembled with hurt.
"I do," he replied, his voice hollow. "But things have changed."
"Changed?!" I echoed, moving closer, my frustration rising. "How can you say that? You're home now! Everything should be the same. You can't just—" I caught myself, realizing I sounded so much like the child I once was. How could I expect things to be the same now, after everything he'd endured?
He forced a small, strained smile—a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "War changes everything. People. Things. Even us."
I was at a loss for words. The person standing before me was no longer the Elias I once knew—the Elias who had laughed with me and rescued me from the woods all those years ago. This Elias was a fighter, a man hardened by the brutal realities of war. He wasn't the mischievous boy who had always been there to bail me out of trouble.
But that didn't mean I was going to let him slip away.
I placed a hand on his arm, trying to make him meet my gaze. "I've missed you, Elias. You can't push me away. I know it's been hard, but I'm still here. We can—"
"Charlotte," he interrupted, his voice stronger now. He turned fully to face me, his eyes unyielding. "I can't let you back into this… darkness. It's too dangerous. I've seen things. Things I can't forget."
I stared at him, feeling the sorrow in his expression seeping through the cracks in his hardened facade. Without thinking, I reached up to gently brush my fingers against his cheek—a silent plea for the Elias I once knew to resurface.
"I know you've been through a lot," I said softly. "But I'm not going to let you carry this alone. I'm not a child anymore, Elias. I'm strong. And I'm still the same person you knew before you left. We're still friends. We always will be."
For a moment, I thought he might pull away. But instead, he took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing just slightly—as though my words had begun to chip away at the icy walls around him.
"You've changed," he whispered, his gaze softening, ever so slightly. "You're not the same princess I left behind."
"And you're not the same Elias," I replied, my smile tinged with sadness. "But that doesn't mean we can't find our way back."
The tension between us hadn't completely vanished, but for the first time in years, a flicker of hope rekindled in my chest. Elias had returned—but he was no longer the boy I remembered. He was a man, shaped by the brutality of war. Yet, that didn't mean we couldn't rebuild what we once had.
Perhaps, with time, we could heal. Perhaps, with time, Elias would find his way back to me—and I, to him.