I Possessed The Worst Character In The Hellish Game
Chapter 34: Princess Elara Von Valerion [2]

Chapter 34: Princess Elara Von Valerion [2]

The waltz had ended, and the dancers were dispersing back into the crowd.

Princess Elara stood near the edge of the ballroom, her hands folded neatly in front of her....

She looked like the perfect picture of royal composure.

Besides her,

Princess Alice was perched on a cushioned chair which was slightly too tall for her legs.

Her feet swung idly as she watched the crowd with the restless curiosity of a child who had been told to sit still for far too long flickering in her expression.

Her golden eyes tracked a particular figure through the sea of nobles.

A young man with ghostly grey eyes in a black formal suit with slightly disheveled black hair, but somehow that only made him look better.

He exchanged a few final words with the lady he had just finished dancing with.

The lady he was dancing with smiled and blushed faintly, clearly reluctant to let the dance end.

"He’s popular." Alice observed. "Four dance with four different ladies and the night is still young."

Elara didn’t look.

"Is he?"

"Mmhm." Alice swung her legs again. "That last one was Lady something-or-other from the Early family. She looked like she wanted to eat him with a spoon."

"Alice."

"What? It’s true. Her face was all red, and she kept giggling creepily." Alice scrunched up her nose. "It was really weird."

Elara allowed herself a small, restrained sigh.

She had learned long ago that her little sister’s observations, while unfiltered, were rarely inaccurate.

Alice had an uncanny gift for noticing the smallest things, the tiny details that slipped past everyone else without leaving so much as a ripple.

It was as if those bright golden eyes of hers saw straight through the polished masks people wore, right down to the uncomfortable truths they tried to hide.

"But why do his eyes look sad?"

Elara froze. "What?"

"His eyes. When he’s not talking to anyone, when he thinks nobody’s watching.... they look sad."

"...."

"Shouldn’t you go ask him for a dance?" Alice said as she turned her gaze towards her sister. "You keep looking at him when you think nobody’s watching."

Elara’s composure didn’t crack, but Alice managed to notice the faintest flicker of something in her golden eyes.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yes, you do. You look at him, then you look away, then you look again. It’s like watching a cat decide if it wants to pounce on the target."

"Are you calling me a cat now?"

"That’s not the point. You’re avoiding my question."

Elara finally turned her head to meet her sister’s gaze.

"There is no question to avoid. Mikael Morwell and I were childhood acquaintances. That’s all..... I have no intention of dancing with him tonight, or any other night."

Alice tilted her head as her shoulder-length light-blue hair fell across one eye.

"But you used to like him, didn’t you? When we were little.... I remember."

"You were six years old." Elara said with a neutral expression. "You probably don’t remember as much as you think you do."

"I remember plenty. I remember we used to visit his estate, and he’d come to the palace too. Mother was always happier when he was around.... she’d laugh more. And you...."

She leaned in slightly.

"You’d get all quiet and fidgety, like you don’t know what to do. I remember one time he called you ’El,’ and you pretended to hate it, but you secretly liked it."

"...."

"I also remember he stopped coming." Alice continued with her voice softer now. "One day, he just... didn’t come anymore. And you were sad for a long time, even though you tried to hide it."

"That was a long time ago." Elara said. "Things change.... People change."

"But he’s here now."

"Yes."

"So why won’t you dance with him? He’s so handsome. Even a twelve-year-old like me can see that."

Alice paused, then added sincerely.

"If I were older, I’d ask him to dance. He has nice eyes. They’re all grey and spooky, like a ghost. But a friendly ghost."

Despite herself, the corner of Elara’s mouth twitched.

"A friendly ghost?"

"Exactly. So.... what’s wrong with him?"

"Nothing is wrong with him. We simply.... grew apart."

Elara said in a final tone meant to end this conversation here only.

"Liar."

"Alice."

"You’re lying. You do that thing with your eyebrow when you’re not telling the whole truth. It goes up just a tiny bit. Right there."

She pointed at her own eyebrow in demonstration.

"See? You’re doing it now."

Elara consciously relaxed her face.

"I am not."

"You were."

Alice folded her arms with the satisfaction of a detective who had just cracked a case.

"So what really happened? Did he do something wrong? Did you have a fight?"

The question hung in the air between them for some time.

"He’s weak." Elara said finally in a flat tone.

"He’s not even High Tier 1 Awakener yet. His essence control is abysmal. He wouldn’t even last a week at Astralspire Academy, and frankly, I doubt he’ll even pass the entrance exam. There’s no point in.... rekindling an acquaintance that has no future."

Alice stared at her sister for a long moment.

"That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said."

"It’s the truth."

"No, it’s not. Or at least, it’s not the whole truth."

Alice slid off her chair and stood up as her small form barely reached Elara’s shoulder.

"You don’t care if someone’s strong or weak. You’re nice to the servants and the guards and the kitchen staff, and they’re not strong. So why does it matter if he’s--"

"In our world, it does matter. Especially for someone in his position." Elara said in a cool and measured voice of a princess who had learned long ago that emotion was a luxury she couldn’t afford. "He can’t even cast a basic spell without exhausting himself. Do you know what people say about him?"

Alice shook her head slowly.

"They call him the disappointment of House Morwell. The one who should have been born a commoner so his lack of talent wouldn’t matter."

Elara’s gaze drifted back toward the pillar where Mikael had been standing moments before.

"I can’t be associated with someone like that anymore. It would be.... politically inconvenient."

Alice was quiet for a moment.

"That sounds lonely." She said in a smaller voice.

"What?"

"Being him. It sounds lonely. Everyone whispering about you. Everyone thinking you’re not good enough..... just because you don’t have a strong Talent." Alice looked up at her sister. "You used to be his friend. Maybe he needs a friend now more than ever."

"He doesn’t want my help..."

Elara said quietly; this time, her voice wasn’t flat but tired and worn down.

"He made that very clear, a long time ago. I reached out to him more than once, and he pushed me away. So I stopped reaching. That’s all."

Alice opened her mouth to ask another question....

She had about a dozen questions lined up for her sister’s love life.

But before she could, something across the ballroom caught her attention.

Mikael Morwell was moving somewhere, slipping along the edge of the room as he disappeared through a side door that led away from the main ballroom.

"Where is he going?" Alice questioned.

"What?"

Elara turned to follow her sister’s gaze, but Mikael was already gone.

"I don’t kno-- Alice, where are you--"

"I’m going after him."

Alice cut her off as her small legs carried her through the crowd with surprising agility.

She ducked under a nobleman’s elbow and sidestepped a server carrying a tray of empty glasses.

"Alice, wait!"

Elara started after her, but someone suddenly appeared in front of her.

"Your Highness! I was hoping I might steal a moment of your time--"

It was Lord Joseph.

Duke Lennox’s son, as he launched into some request or compliment, something about the festivities and the music and how lovely she looked, but Elara barely heard a word of it.

Her eyes were fixed on the side door where her little sister had just vanished, chasing after her friendly ghostly with grey eyes.

By the time she extricated herself from the conversation.

Alice was long gone.

*****