When he finally confessed his feelings beneath the baobab, Elara’s eyes filled with disbelieving tears.
“I feel the same,” she whispered, “but I am only the orphan girl.”
“You are everything,” he answered.
Jealous eyes saw them that day. Celeste ran home in a fury. That night Elara was dragged into a storage room and locked inside—no food, no light, no mercy.
For five days Lysander searched. Every time he arrived at Baldwin’s gate, Vivienne and Celeste threw themselves forward in bright dresses while their parents lied: “She’s visiting relatives… she’s ill…”
Lysander saw the panic behind their smiles.
On the sixth day he summoned the full council.
“I have chosen my future queen,” he announced. “She comes from the house of Lord Baldwin.”
Joyful murmurs rippled—until he finished:
“Her name is Elara.”
The hall froze. Baldwin went white as ash.
Lysander sent royal guards with the king’s staff. When the door was forced open, Elara stumbled out—thin, trembling, eyes swollen from crying. The guards carried the report back: she had been imprisoned and starved.