Selene was no longer merely a passive recipient. Kaelan Wolfstein's incessant, increasingly uncontrolled nocturnal visits were like a map being gradually drawn, revealing the fissures in his formidable defenses. She decided she would no longer wait for judgment, but would actively sow seeds within those cracks.
One night, when he approached the bed, bringing with him a chill and suppressed breaths, Selene "in her sleep" turned over slightly. Her arm draped unconsciously across the spot where he usually sat. His body went rigid instantly. She could feel the heat of his gaze and the almost tangible struggle. In the end, he didn't push her away nor leave. Instead, he sat down with extreme slowness and caution in the limited space, letting her arm rest against his leg. A silent understanding spread in the darkness, and the tense line of his shoulders relaxed a fraction at that slight contact.
During the day, she was occasionally summoned to his study to answer repetitive questions about the Broken Star Belt or her origins. On these occasions, guards usually waited outside, leaving the two of them alone in the vast space.
Once, while he was sternly reiterating her "low-grade" status and demanding she "understand her position," Selene didn't remain silent as usual. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, a faint, almost invisible smile touching her lips. In a voice low enough for only him to hear, mimicking the tone she'd used to tease "Cookie," she said softly, "Your Excellency, the way you lecture reminds me of trying to reason with a disobedient puppy."
Kaelan's breath hitched, his silver-gray eyes narrowing sharply. Obvious anger flashed across his face, yet the tips of his ears flushed with a telltale hint of red. "Insolent!" He slammed the desk, standing up, his tall frame casting an oppressive shadow. "Know your place, woman! Another word of such nonsense—"
"Nonsense?" Selene leaned forward slightly instead of retreating, looking up at him with clear eyes and a touch of perfectly measured, innocent confusion. "I was merely stating a fact. That puppy was disobedient at first too, but later…" She stopped at the right moment, leaving the implication hanging.
"... Preposterous!" he growled, but his defiance felt weaker. His eyes avoided her direct gaze, flustered, and he even raised a hand as if to touch his burning ear, aborting the movement mid-air. The reaction was so like a youth caught off guard, desperately denying a truth while failing to hide it, creating an absurd and fascinating contrast with his imposing image as the Empire Marshal. Amusement flickered in Selene's heart, followed by a deeper sorrow—he remembered, his body remembered, only his heart refused to acknowledge it.
Another time, she sat in the soft chair by the study window. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a soft glow on her pale face. Kaelan was working on documents, the atmosphere unusually calm. Gazing out at the meticulously manicured, flawlessly blue rose garden, Selene murmured, as if to herself, "The roses here are beautiful, but too uniform. They lack a certain wild charm. The Broken Star Belt was desolate, but sometimes you'd find a little purple flower growing from a rock crevice. So tenacious. It made you happy just to see it."
The moment she finished speaking, Kaelan's hand, signing a document, paused. He didn't look up, merely offering a noncommittal "Hm," as if he hadn't really heard.
Yet, the next morning, Selene awoke to find the balcony of her sitting room in the Contemplation Court filled with pots of blooming purple flowers, nearly identical to those from the Broken Star Belt crevices. They were carefully planted in expensive ecological pots, each one vibrant, clearly transplanted and nurtured with great care overnight. The servant who brought them kept his eyes downcast. "The Marshal ordered these, to improve your mood."
Selene looked at this突兀的, forcibly imposed "wild charm." She felt no joy, only a heavy, suffocating weight. He could bring her flowers from across the galaxy, but wouldn't grant her the freedom to step beyond this cage. It was a declaration, and a restraint—See, I can give you anything you want. So, stay content within the boundaries I've set.
His possessiveness coiled tighter like vines. Once, a younger, newer guard on duty glanced a few times too many at Selene as she sat quietly on a garden bench. The next day, that guard was transferred, his fate unknown. The maid assigned to Selene's care, during her routine reports, once mentioned that Selene had seemed particularly interested in a certain book or piece of music. The next time Kaelan "happened" to pass by or visited at night, he would "casually" inquire about it, his tone feigning nonchalance, his eyes sharp as a hawk's.
The most convincing example is when Selene accidentally clicked on a fragment about ancient Earth myths while browsing the interstellar network (providing only basic information). She was attracted by the pictures of her former hometown and her gaze lingered on them for a few minutes.
That night, when Kaelan arrived, he carried a faint, cool scent reminiscent of laurel. He held her in silence, tighter than ever before, as if trying to crush her into his very bones. In a voice hoarse and strained, he whispered into her ear, a mix of accusation and plea, "Why were you looking at that?... Do you like the moon?... Is what's here not enough?... Am I not enough?"
Selene didn't answer. She simply endured the near-suffocating embrace, her heart turning to ice. He didn't understand. It wasn't the moon she was looking at; it was her home. It wasn't piled-up treasures she wanted; it was the freedom to breathe. He was pushing her away with the very methods he thought were best.
The fissures, masked by the seemingly ambiguous push-and-pull, deepened and spread.
One day, Kaelan made a rare daytime appearance at the Contemplation Court, under the pretext of inspecting security. Selene had her back to him, stretching on her toes to reach a physical book on the top shelf—perhaps some forgotten childhood reader of his. The silk belt of her morning robe accentuated her slender waist, and the sunlight edged her form with a soft light. His usually hard gaze lingered on her back for a moment, his Adam's apple moving unconsciously. Just as her fingertips were about to brush the spine, a large hand reached past her and effortlessly retrieved the book.
He handed it to her, his fingers hesitating slightly upon contact with hers before pulling away. His silver-gray eyes looked down, their gaze falling on the small patch of pale skin at her slightly open collar. His voice was deeper, rougher than usual. "In the future… if you want something, tell the smart house system. Or… tell me."
In that moment, he wasn't the lofty Empire Marshal, but more like a confused male creature, trying clumsily to please his beloved possession, knowing only how to express it through possession. Selene looked up, clearly seeing the vortex of desire and struggle in his eyes. She took the book, her fingertips deliberately brushing his palm, feeling his muscles tense instantly. She offered a faint, unreadable smile. "Thank you, Your Excellency."
That smile, along with that distant address, pierced Kaelan's heart like a small piece of ice. He suddenly shook his hand, turned around and strode away, his back showing an almost imperceptible trace of embarrassment and anger. He sensed, vaguely, that something was slipping from his tight control. And Selene, after he left, let the smile fade from her lips. Her gaze fell upon the imprisoned scenery beyond the window. The desire to escape had never been clearer, or more resolute.