Elysium: Desired by the Cold-hearted Princess [GL]-Chapter 313: Honest Conversations

Electra’s POV

I was just about to leave the palace when I heard his voice.

"Electra."

I stopped in my tracks, my hand frozen on the handle of the door. My jaw clenched as I turned around, already bracing myself for whatever nonsense was about to come out of his mouth.

Sure enough, there he stood at the top of the grand staircase, my father, wearing that usual cold look he gave me when he wasn’t pretending we were a picture-perfect royal family.

"Come with me," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I stared at him blankly for a second, then narrowed my eyes. "For what?"

His eyes sharpened like blades. "Do you really want me to have the guards drag you behind me, Electra?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine," I muttered. "Lead the way."

My boots echoed against the floor as I followed him up the stairs, and as I followed him, every part of me screamed that this was a terrible idea. I didn’t want to hear his opinions, and I definitely didn’t want to be scolded like a little girl for burning Jella’s neck.

If he tried to make me feel bad for what I did, I was more than ready to remind him that he was the last person in this palace who had the right to talk to me about not hurting people, especially when he was the one who murdered my mother, a topic I still haven’t had the courage to bring up in front of him.

But something strange happened.

Instead of turning right toward the throne room like I expected, he turned left, and not just left, he kept going, walking past the hallway that led to the royal court, past the double doors that led to the meeting chambers, and stopped in front of the one place I never imagined he’d bring me.

His bedroom.

I froze.

That door had always been locked to me. I remembered every time I’d cried outside it when I was younger, begging for him to open it, when Jella had screamed at me, or hit me, or called me all kinds of things behind his back.

I used to think that if I could just reach him, just talk to him, he would protect me, but every single time, I’d be dragged away by the guards and told the king was not to be disturbed.

And now, here we were.

He pushed the door open and walked inside without even looking back to see if I was following. I hesitated for half a second, then stepped in behind him.

It was... cold. Not literally, but something about the room felt like it had been drained of any warmth a long time ago. The curtains were drawn halfway, casting gray shadows over the dark furniture and shelves stacked with a bunch of books.

There was no sign of comfort. No family portraits, no soft pillows or cozy lamps. Just neat, sharp edges and emptiness.

He stood in the middle of the room, facing away from me.

"I didn’t bring you here to argue with you, Electra," he said after a long pause.

I folded my arms. "Then why am I here?"

He turned around. For once, he didn’t look angry or disappointed, like he was about to give me a lecture. He just looked... tired, and I didn’t like it. Somehow, it made me more uneasy than when he was yelling.

"You shouldn’t have touched her," he said quietly. "Not because I care about her, but because what you did, if anyone else had seen it, would’ve made things worse for you."

"I don’t care," I snapped. "She deserved worse."

He didn’t respond right away.

"I’m not going to punish you," he said again. "I just wanted to speak to you... because I realize I never have."

I blinked. "What?"

He sat down in one of the large chairs near the window and gestured for me to sit in the other.

I didn’t want to sit, and I made that clear when I stayed standing with my arms crossed and eyes locked on my father with all the bitterness I could summon, but King Vale wasn’t the kind of man who let go of things easily.

So when he nodded at the chair again, his jaw tight, I knew he wasn’t going to stop until I gave in. With a dramatic sigh, I finally sat down across from him, keeping my arms crossed as if that might guard me from whatever nonsense he was about to spill.

He studied me for a moment. I didn’t return the look. I just stared at the wall behind him, waiting. He was the one who dragged me here. The least he could do was say what he wanted.

"Why now?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. "Why are you suddenly interested in talking to me? All you’ve ever done is remind me not to lose my crown, like that’s the only part of me that matters."

He let out a breath. Not quite a sigh, not quite regret. Just... something heavy.

"Do you have any questions for me?" he asked instead.

I blinked at him. "What?"

"Questions," he repeated. "Anything you’ve wanted to know. You can ask, and I’ll answer honestly."

I narrowed my eyes. "You dragged me in here, and now you expect me to start the conversation?"

"Unfortunately," he said, his lips pressed in a thin line, "I don’t know where to start. So if there’s anything you want to ask, now’s your chance."

I studied him. This had to be a game, a test, or maybe just another trick to keep me off balance.

"You’re being serious?" I asked. "You’ll actually answer me truthfully?"

He nodded once. "Yes, and if you feel I’m lying to you and wasting your time, you can leave."

My mind spun for a moment, trying to sort through the hundreds of questions I had buried over the years. Some I had screamed through tears as a child when no one answered, and others I had locked up tight just to survive.

I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying my best to keep my voice from shaking. There were a million things I wanted to ask him, a thousand accusations I could throw, but only one question came out.

"Do you hate me?"

My voice was quiet, but it felt like it echoed through the room. My father froze, and his entire body stiffened like I’d caught him off guard, which I knew I had.

He blinked slowly, like he didn’t believe what he’d just heard, and for the first time in my life, he looked... human. Not cold or distant, just stunned.

He sat up straighter and looked me in the eye. "At no point in the last twenty years have I ever hated you, Electra."

I couldn’t help it. I scoffed.

"You expect me to believe that?" I asked, my tone sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. "After everything? The way you’ve treated me my whole life? Like I was some burden, or worse, some obligation you couldn’t get rid of?"

I shook my head. "You can’t possibly love someone you don’t even believe is your daughter. You’ve only kept me around because of your obsession with my mother."

His eyes widened. I saw the flicker of shock move across his face, and that was all the confirmation I needed. He hadn’t expected that.

I crossed my arms, waiting. Waiting for him to deny it, to lie, and to pretend like he didn’t know what I was talking about.

"Where did you hear that?" he asked instead, his voice low. "Did Jella tell you that you weren’t mine?" 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

I sighed, finally looking away. "Does it matter who told me? Are you going to deny it? Or are you finally going to admit that you spent all these years thinking I wasn’t yours?"

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. It was the first time I’d seen him look this... unsure in front of me. Vulnerable, even, and I hated that it messed with my head.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer.

"Whatever you may have heard is wrong, Electra. Completely wrong. I don’t know what lies Jella or anyone else has been feeding you, but I’ve always known you were mine. Always."