Elysium: Desired by the Cold-hearted Princess [GL]

Third-person POV

Jella let out a sigh of frustration as she leaned back against her silk pillows, still completely bare, her body glistening from the oils the servants had used on her.

The relaxation she had just been sinking into had been thoroughly ruined by the arrival of the one person she least wanted to see—King Vale.

He wasn't someone that would show up to her room without a valid reason, especially since their marriage wasn't anything like that of a normal couple, and she couldn't even remember the last time they shared a bed.

And that made her all the more irritated because she knew that for him to come all the way here, he would surely say something that would put her in a sore mood.

As the guards outside her bedroom opened the door, she tilted her head slightly, watching as he entered her chamber with a look of obvious disdain. His sharp eyes roamed over her before settling on her face, his expression tightening with barely concealed disgust.

"Couldn't you put on a robe or something, or do you believe this is the right way to welcome me?" he asked, voice dripping with irritation.

Jella scoffed, stretching her arms lazily above her head, making no effort to cover herself. "You're the one who came to my chambers so suddenly, Vale. I didn't summon you, nor do I want you here. So, either deal with it or get out. I'd very much prefer the latter option."

His jaw clenched at her words, but he didn't turn away. Instead, he took a few slow steps forward, standing near the edge of her bed with arms crossed over his chest, and a look of pure disdain fixated on his face.

"Trust me, the last thing I want is to look at you," he muttered. "I came here because we need to talk, and this is a conversation that you and I should have had a while ago."

Jella let out a dry laugh, finally reaching for her robe but only because she was starting to feel the cold air bite at her skin, not because she cared about his discomfort.

She slipped it over her shoulders, loosely tying it at her waist before leaning back against the pillows again, tilting her head at him with amusement.

"Talk?" she echoed, arching a perfectly shaped brow. "What could possibly be so important that it couldn't wait until morning? Did something happen? Is someone dying?"

Vale exhaled sharply, running a hand through his graying hair, a sign of his growing frustration.

"It's about Electra."

Jella's expression remained unreadable, but internally, her irritation deepened.

"What about her?" she asked nonchalantly, feigning disinterest as she lazily traced the pattern on her silk sheets.

Vale's eyes darkened. "You know damn well what it's about, Jella. So don't play games with me."

She sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "If this is about her being an unruly little brat, then spare me the lecture, Vale. That child was never meant to be queen, and you and I both know it. I still can't understand why you're obsessed with making her into what she's clearly not fit to be."

Vale's fists clenched at his sides. "She is my heir, Jella. I chose her as the one deserving of my throne."

"And that is your mistake," Jella shot back, her voice turning sharp. "You're blinded by the fact that she's the last thing that bitch you were obsessed with left behind, and you're also blinded by this belief that she'd be stronger than her mother and make Elmeria unstoppable, but news flash, my dear, that girl is mentally unstable and unfit for the throne. You know it."

"What I know," Vale growled, "is that you've been scheming to replace her with Hunter since the moment you realized you could manipulate him. Do you think I don't see what you're doing? Do you really believe that I wouldn't know where you've been hiding that bastard?"

Jella smirked, tilting her head. "And what exactly am I doing wrong, my dear husband?"

"You're setting the council against my heir," he accused. "You're poisoning their minds, feeding them doubts, all to make it easier for Hunter to take her place."

Jella let out a small chuckle. "I don't need to poison anyone's mind, Vale. Electra does a fine job of making herself look unworthy all on her own. I simply… provide them with the clarity they need to see the truth."

Vale's expression darkened further. "And what truth is that?"

Jella's smile faded, and she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a near whisper, laced with venom.

"That she is not your daughter. She's just a pawn you want to use, and she's your way of making yourself feel better because of what you did to her mother. How can I let you put her on the throne, knowing that she's not even worthy of it?"

Silence filled the room.

Vale's entire body went rigid, his breathing suddenly heavy, his fists trembling at his sides.

Jella watched him carefully, gauging his reaction.

"She is not yours, Vale. She never was, and she never will be. She'll just continue to remind you that the bitch you loved so much never chose you, and I refuse to let you make her queen out of your guilt and obsession."

Vale took a slow, measured breath before stepping closer to the bed, his voice dangerously low. "If you speak another word of this nonsense, Jella, I swear—"

"Or what?" she interrupted smoothly, tilting her chin up. "You'll kill me? Please, we both know you don't have the stomach for that. Or wait, maybe you do? After all, you killed the other woman, but killing me doesn't change the truth, does it?"

Vale's breathing was uneven now, his fury barely restrained. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he said through gritted teeth.

Jella chuckled, standing up from the bed and walking toward him, stopping just inches away. She leaned in slightly, her lips curling into a cruel smile.

"Don't I?"

Vale held her gaze, his own filled with rage, but he didn't deny it.

Jella sighed dramatically, stepping away from him and pouring herself a glass of wine from the silver tray beside her bed.

"You can fight it all you want, Vale, but we both know Electra is not fit to be queen. The council knows it. The kingdom knows it, and soon, she'll know it too. If you want to keep forcing her down our throats to fulfill your sick fantasy, then be my guest, but I'll never let you win. Not in this life."

Vale's fists clenched once more before he turned sharply, heading for the door.

"Stay away from her, Jella. If anything happens to Electra, I'll kill you. So you better not touch a hair on her head," he warned darkly.

Jella smirked as she lifted the glass of wine to her lips, watching him with amusement.

"Oh, my love," she purred. "But where's the fun in that?"

And with that, Vale stormed out, slamming the door behind him, while Jella took a slow sip of her wine, a victorious glint in her eyes.