_ Day Before the Gathering_
Elvienne is quietly escorted to another chamber. Her face is pale, her eyes distant, but she says nothing.
Inside, several maidens begin to prepare her under the orders of the estate.
She is gently lowered into a large marble tub, where petals float upon shimmering waters. A rare magical herb dissolves into the bath, its glow subtle, but radiant—meant to soften and illuminate the skin with a divine glow.
Another attendant gently applies an essence derived from a flower only found in the mountains of Bentok, weaving it through her hair. The air carries a soft, sweet aroma. A silky mask is placed on her face, cooling and fragrant.
She remains still through it all—silent, calm on the outside, while her heart aches within.
_Outside the Chamber – Nightfall_
Just beyond the window, the small bird Zehron sent pecks gently at the glass with its beak.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
No one inside hears it.
The bird waits patiently, wings tucked, perched upon the nearby tree. Hours pass. Still, it waits.
Morning Light Breaks
The bird resumes its tapping—gentle, persistent.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Two guards walking past glance at the noise. One of them scowls.
Guard 1:
"That bird again?"
Guard 2 (irritated):
"Stubborn thing. Must think someone will feed it."
He raises his arm and flicks a sharp dart from his sleeve. With precision, it strikes the bird's wing.
A small, startled cry escapes the bird's throat as it falls to the ground.
They approach the limp form—only to find a tightly rolled note bound to its leg.
They exchange glances, and one picks it up.
The atmosphere is heavy. Lord Solea stands near the window, arms behind his back, when a knock interrupts the silence.
Guard (bowing):
"My Lord… A bird. It carried a letter."
He extends it.
Lord Solea takes the note, opens it, and scans the contents. His expression darkens.
He turns sharply, his voice cold and commanding.
Lord Solea:
"Bring him. Again. I don't care how—drag him here if you must."
Guard:
"Yes, my Lord."
Lord Solea (to himself, low and bitter):
"On the eve of the gathering... this boy dares."
He crushes the note in his hand.
Three Hours Later in Elvienne's Room
A gentle knock breaks the quiet hum of the chamber.
Elvienne (softly):
"Come in."
A maid steps in, her expression unreadable.
Maid:
"The Family Head wishes to see you, my lady."
Elvienne's heart stills for a moment, but she nods, silently standing. She follows the maid through the corridors, the cold stone beneath her feet echoing each step like distant drums.
Two guards stand by the grand doors. Upon seeing them approach, they push the heavy doors open.
Elvienne steps inside.
There, seated at the far end, is Lord Solea—stern and composed, as always, draped in black and golden robes. His gaze is distant, and his fingers drum lightly on the armrest of his chair.
She bows her head politely.
Elvienne:
"Father."
He glances at her.
Lord Solea (calmly):
"Elvienne. Come. Sit beside me."
There's no warmth in his voice, only command cloaked in calm.
She walks forward and sits beside him, her hands folded on her lap.
A few seconds of silence hang between them.
Lord Solea:
"You're quiet."
Elvienne (gently):
"I have nothing to say unless you ask of me."
He gives a faint nod.
Lord Solea:
"Good."
He then gestures with two fingers. A guard steps forward from behind and presents something wrapped in silk.
The cloth is removed.
Inside is the injured bird, now silent and still—its wing bound, but breathing. And beside it… the crumpled letter.
Elvienne's breath catches, but she says nothing.
Lord Solea (low and cold):
"This… came for you. Again."
He looks straight into her eyes.
Lord Solea:
"I thought we agreed there would be no more secrets between us, Elvienne."
Before Elvienne could speak_
Lord Solea raises his hand.
He lifts a finger slightly. The guards bow and move toward a side door. A moment later, they return, dragging in Zehron, barely on his feet. His arms are tied, his face bruised and body sluggish. He's clearly been roughed up.
ELVIENNE
(startled, standing up)
Zehron!
She runs forward, eyes wide with panic, but Lord Solea grabs her wrist tightly, pulling her back down into her seat.
ELVIENNE
(voice shaking)
Father, please—what are you doing?! He's done nothing wrong!
LORD SOLEA
(his voice cold)
Wrong? He's dared to defy the natural order. He dared to crawl into the world of nobility uninvited.
ELVIENNE
He's-
LORD SOLEA
(cuts her off sharply)
Enough.
(looks to the guards)
Show her.
Without another word, the guards begin beating Zehron. He grunts quietly, refusing to scream, his body taking blow after blow. Elvienne struggles again.
ELVIENNE
(crying out)
Stop! Stop this, please! You're hurting him!
She tries to pull free, tears spilling freely.She thrashes harder, but Lord Solea's hold is unyielding. Finally, in a moment of fury, he slaps her hard. She gasps, stumbling back and collapsing to the floor, one hand on her cheek, tears streaming down.
Silence.
Zehron raises his head, blood on his lip, his eyes now on Elvienne, full of pain—but not for himself.
LORD SOLEA
(firmly)
This... is what happens when you cross lines you were never meant to cross.
Elvienne sobs harder, curled slightly on the floor.
LORD SOLEA
This boy... all of this... is because of you. If you hadn't entertained him with your foolish kindness—if you hadn't looked at him like you did—he wouldn't have dared.
Men are creatures of lust. They see an opening and they pounce. He is no different.
Let this be a lesson.
ELVIENNE
(angrily)
This isn't a lesson—this is cruelty! You're hurting someone who never did anything but care for me!
LORD SOLEA
(snarling)
Care? Do you know what men like him do when they get too close? They take. That's all they know. You see innocence—I see opportunism.
He writes letters. Sends birds. Draws your attention like a rat creeping toward a feast it doesn't deserve.
ELVIENNE
(screaming)
You're wrong!
LORD SOLEA
(slams his hand on the armrest)
Then why is my noble daughter exchanging secret letters with a dock worker?
Elvienne's mouth opens—but no words come out.
LORD SOLEA
(quietly now)
You shame me, Elvienne.
(sighs)
Do you think this world will forgive you for falling in love with someone beneath your station?
ELVIENNE
(softly)
I don't care about this world…
LORD SOLEA
You don't have that luxury.
(Coldly)
If you keep seeing him… keep inviting him into your life… I swear to you, Elvienne—next time, I won't stop at him.
(slowly)
I'll find his family. His friends. Every last one of them.
ELVIENNE
(whispers, trembling)
Why… why are you doing this?
LORD SOLEA
Because you're my daughter.
Because in this twisted world, love will only destroy you if it's not the right kind.
You think he's different. He's not. They all come smiling, soft-voiced… and when your guard is down, they strike. Maybe not with weapons. But with dreams.
(turns to her, quieter)
I'm not your enemy. I'm just doing what a father must.
Elvienne, broken and silent, stares at Zehron, who is now motionless on the floor, the room heavy with pain and silence.
The silence is deafening. The guards step back. Zehron's chest rises and falls with ragged breaths, his arms limp at his sides. Elvienne remains slumped on the floor, her cheek red from the slap, eyes wide and lost.
LORD SOLEA
(sighs, stepping forward)
Elvienne...
He kneels before her, a rare sight—this cold, iron man softening his tone. He cups her face gently, lifting her gaze to his.
LORD SOLEA
I know you don't understand now. I know this feels cruel. But everything I do...
(pause)
I do because I love you.
Elvienne's breath hitches, her lips trembling.
LORD SOLEA
Look at him.
He motions toward Zehron, slumped on the floor, barely conscious, his strength all but gone.
LORD SOLEA
That boy… he has no power. No title. No strength to even stand without help.
(softly)
How will he protect you when the world turns against you? How will he defend you when danger comes knocking?
He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, still holding her chin gently.
LORD SOLEA
Do you understand, child?
For a moment, there is only the sound of wind brushing through the high windows. Elvienne looks at Zehron—his body bruised, but his eyes… still full of silent devotion.
She turns her gaze back to her father.
ELVIENNE
(softly, without emotion)
I understand.
A flicker of something—relief, perhaps—crosses Lord Solea's face. Behind her, Zehron slowly lowers his head, his gaze falling to the floor. Silent. Beaten.
His breath stills… not from pain, but heartbreak.
Lord Solea gazes at his daughter for a moment longer. His expression softens further—perhaps the most gentle it has ever been in years.
LORD SOLEA
(quietly)
Good.
He leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead. Cold lips. Heavy silence.
LORD SOLEA
You should rest. You're to be present at the meeting tomorrow. All the nobles will be there… you must look your best.
Just as he stands, Elvienne gathers her courage.
ELVIENNE
(quietly)
Father… may I have one last moment with him?
He stops.
ELVIENNE
Just once. Just this once.
(pause)
I promise I'll never see him again. Never speak to him. I swear it.
A silence stretches. Lord Solea's jaw tightens, and for a moment his frustration flashes in his eyes—but he swallows it down, unreadable again.
LORD SOLEA
Very well.
He raises a hand, and the guards lower their heads and quietly exit the hall. The heavy door creaks open… and Lord Solea steps halfway out.
Before he leaves, he turns around. In his hand is a tall, ornate hourglass, the sand within nearly at its end.
LORD SOLEA
(softly, yet firmly)
This… is all the time I've given you.
He sets the hourglass on the table near the door.
LORD SOLEA
When it runs out… the guards will take him back.
A heavy pause. Then he walks out, and the great doors close shut behind him—leaving only Elvienne and Zehron in the quiet room, the hourglass ticking away.
Silence settles heavy in the room. Only the soft hiss of the falling sand in the hourglass can be heard.
Zehron remained slumped on the cold stone floor, barely breathing, his body limp and broken. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, painting a cruel contrast against his pale skin. Elvienne stepped towards him slowly, her bare feet silent, her white gown ghostlike as it swept across the floor. Her hands trembled as she knelt beside him.
Her breath hitched.
Without a word, she reached for the bindings around his wrists—harsh, tight, unforgiving. Her fingers fumbled at first, her vision clouded with tears, but she finally freed him. Gently, she pulled Zehron into her arms and lowered him onto her lap, his bloodied face resting against the soft fabric of her gown, which instantly began to soak in crimson.
"Zehron..." she whispered, choking on her guilt.
His face turned slightly up toward her, his beautiful green eyes barely open, flickering with pain and fading light. Elvienne cupped his cheek, her fingers shaking, her thumb brushing away blood and dirt as she stared at him through blurred tears.
"I'm sorry," she repeated over and over, her voice breaking. "This is all my fault. You're like this because of me… because of me..."
Her sobs trembled through her body. Zehron's head shifted faintly on her chest, his breath shallow. With agonizing effort, he tried to lift his hand—his fingers twitched halfway, suspended midair, reaching for her. Elvienne immediately caught his hand and gently guided it to her face, pressing it against her cheek.
His thumb brushed her skin, and in a broken whisper, he spoke, "Vienne…"
She leaned closer, hearing every breath as though it might be his last.
"Don't… cry," he murmured, barely above a breath. His fingers gently moved across her cheek, wiping away a tear, then lightly stroked her lower lip. "It's... not your fault... it's mine... alone."
Elvienne broke. Her tears fell harder as she leaned down and kissed him, a soft, lingering kiss that carried a thousand unspoken words. When she pulled away, her voice shook, "This will be... our last time together."
A single tear slid down from Zehron's eye onto his bloodstained chest. His gaze flickered, blurred with tears. Another tear followed, this time from the other side, quietly falling as he gathered every ounce of strength left within him.
His body tensed slightly, and he pushed himself upward just enough to reach her face again. His lips found hers with desperate passion. He kissed her—roughly, painfully, full of aching love. Elvienne kissed him back, her hand on the back of his head, her fingers tangled in his hair, trying to hold on to the last pieces of him.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
The sound echoed like a death sentence. The guards were at the door.
They froze.
Their breaths heavy. The moment shatters.
Their breathing ragged, their bodies pressed close. Zehron's hand slipped from her face, resting limply against her arm.
The door creaks open.
The guards helped zehron stand, both of his arms around on the guard's shoulders.
And for the last moment, they look at each other again.
She looks into his eyes, a final, burning gaze.
ELVIENNE
(softly)
We shall never meet again.
Zehron says nothing. His eyes say everything.
Elvienne stands, wiping her tears. She picks up the injured bird and hands it to one of the guard. Then, she takes the letter he brought—tucking it close to her chest.
She looks into his eyes, a final, burning gaze.
And the door creaks open once more.