Elise froze as her father, The Emperor, Lucas von Eisenburg, stood before her, his imposing figure framed the sun filtering through the trees. His golden hair—so much like her own, gleamed down on her. His face was expressionless, but this time, it seemed that his eyes had sparkled a bit. Although it may have seemed that way, she couldn’t help but grow tense.
Behind him, Sir Marcus, was remained still, his eyes and expression looked soft. He gave her a warm smile and greeted her.
He stepped forward, taking Elise’s hand. “Your Highness,” he held her hand and planted a soft kiss. Elise couldn’t help but chuckle.
As she lofted her gaze once more, Elise’s eyes met Lucas’s, she clenched her hands at her sides, forcing herself to hold her father’s gaze.
Lucas studied her for a moment before finally speaking.
“Why are you here?” His voice was not harsh, but neither was it gentle.
She swallowed the lump on her throat. “I wanted to see Mother’s garden.”
A flicker of something passed through Lucas’s expression, too quick for Elise to catch. He glance around the garden, the delicate blue flowers swaying with the breeze, the faint scent of blooming roses still lingering in the air.
He took a step forward.
Elise instinctively straightened, her body stiff, her heartbeat quickening. Was he angry? Would he forbid me into ever coming here? She asked her self, thoughts over flowing.
To her surprise, he didn’t speak for a moment. Instead, he turned toward one of the flower beds, his finger brushing lightly against the petals. He slowly pluck one out, then tucked it on the back of her ear.
“It’s just like your eyes,” he murmured.
Elise’s breath caught in her throat.
Her father was talking to her. Not as an emperor. Not as a ruler. But as—
A man who remembered.
“Mother planted these, didn’t she?” Elise asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lucas’s fingers stilled.
After a long pause, he nodded. “Yes.”
He pulled his hand back, still maintaining eye contact.
Elise stepped closer, her eyes locked onto him, searching for something—anything—that could give her a glimpse of the father she had never truly known.
“Did she love this garden?” She asked hesitantly.
Lucas looked away, but his voice was softer when he spoke. “She did.”
Elise’s heart pounded. She had never heard him speak of her mother before. It was as though a part of him had been locked away for years, only now allowing itself to surface.
She took another step, emboldened by his unexpected openness.
“What was she like?” She asked hesitantly. Clenching her dress tightly with her fist.
He stood up, Lucas finally turned to her. His blue eyes, the eyes of an ocean, usually so cold, held a strange sort of weight.
“She was… like the sun.” He smiled warmly at her.
Marcus, was in shock. Although they have been together since they were little, it has been a while since he last saw him smile like this.
Elise blinked. She was as surprised as Marcus, that was the first time she had ever heard her father describe someone with such gentleness.
“She had a way of making people feel at peace, even in the darkest moments,” he continued, his voice distant as he brushes against the flower beside him. “Your mother…had a gift. A light that could reach anyone.”
Elise felt something tightening in her chest.
“Did you love her?” The words in her mind, but she didn’t dare say them aloud.
Instead, she asked, “Then why…why does no one dare speak of her?”
Lucas’s expression darkened.
“That is enough.” His voice was sharp now.
Elise flinched. The shift in his demeanor was like cold wind cutting through the warmth of the sun. The wall between them had returned.
Lucas straightened, his expression unreadable once more. “You shouldn’t be here alone.”
His words were dismissive, an attempt to end the conversation.
But Elise refused to let this moment slip away so easily.
Just as he was about to leave, gathering her courage, she took a deep breath and held onto the edge of his shirt. “Would it be alright… if I came here again?”
Lucas turned, his gaze flickered back to the flowers, as if warring with something unseen.
Then, to Elise’s surprise—he nodded.
It was not an invitation. It was not a show of affection. But it was not a refusal either.
And for her…that was enough.
As Lucas walked away from the garden, his mind remained on the child he had dropped off at her palace.
Elise.
She had spoken so carefully, her words chosen with the precision of a courtier rather than a child. Her posture, her tone—everything about her had been eerily…proper.
Too proper.
It was not the behavior of a three-year-old girl, much less one who had been raised in isolation. Was she perhaps taught by Flora? But it would seem impossible.
Where had she learned to carry herself like that?
Lucas frowned.
He had spent years keeping his distance from Elise, convinced that his neglect would be kinder than forcing her into the ruthless world of imperial politics. He had believed her too young, too fragile, to bear the weight of courtly expectations.
And yet…
She had bowed to him with flawless grace.
She had spoken without hesitation, her voice calm, steady.
Ever her silence had been measured. It…reminded him of someone.
Someone long gone…
His expression darkened.
“Your Majesty?” Marcus’s voice broke through his thoughts.
Lucas exhaled slowly, pushing aside his thoughts.
“Make sure to keep an eye on her, make sure to cover her palace with protection magic.” He said at last. “I change my mind, cancel my plans for tomorrow and bring the Duke of the Desmond’s house.”
Marcus blinked, clearly surprised.
“Your Majesty?”
Lucas’s gaze drifted back to the garden.
Something had changed in Elise.
And he intended to find out what.
***
Later that night, Elise lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
“She was… like the Sun.”
Her father’s words echoed in her mind.
For years, she believed that he had cast aside all memories of her mother—that he saw nothing of her in Elise, that she was merely an unwanted shadow in his life.
But now, a small part of her wondered—
“Is that really true?”
A small golden flow flickered beside her.
Feya, hovered lazily near her pillow, golden dust trailing from her wings.
“You’re thinking about his Majesty again,” Feya said, her voice light and curious.
Elise sighed. “I don’t understand him.”
Feya tilted her head. “Most daughter don’t understand their fathers.” She smiled, brushing her tiny hands against Elise’s nose.
Feya fluttered down beside her. “Maybe he cared all along. He just didn’t know how to show it.” She said, her voice softly. “Maybe, he was protecting you.”
Elise bit her lip, mulling over the words. She scoffed, remembering what had happened back in her past life.
“I doubt that… but I hope…”
Perhaps… Perhaps her father’s love was there in the beginning… something may have changed…
Meanwhile, Caius Desmond stood in the shadows of the palace courtyard, his cloak billowing slightly in the night breeze.
His gaze was fixed on the second-floor balcony—Elise’s chambers.
The faint golden light from her room flickered, her silhouette barely visible beyond the curtains.
His heart clenched.
“She doesn’t remember.”
But even if she never did… Even if she never turned her heart toward him… He would still protect her.
Even if it killed him.
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