Elysium: Desired by the Cold-hearted Princess [GL]
Chapter 127 127: Yuna's Type

Electra's POV

I sprawled across my bed, mindlessly scrolling through my phone. The perfect silence in the room and from the hallway was a reminder that everyone else had gone to class, but I had no intention of joining them. Not now, and certainly not anytime soon.

The humiliation of what happened on the rooftop was still too fresh in my mind, and the thought of walking into a room full of judgmental faces, hearing the snickers or—worse—the outright taunts about being left half-naked and cuffed like a fool, made my blood boil.

I didn't trust myself not to snap if I overheard someone laughing about it, and by "snap," I mean breaking someone's jaw, or maybe something worse.

So instead of taking that risk, I decided it was better to stay right here, locked away in my room, where the only person I could harm with my anger was myself.

I scrolled aimlessly through the usual feeds—news, gossip, and random posts I didn't care about. None of it distracted me from my rage or from my thoughts about Seraphina and her ridiculous decision to attend Queen Jella's birthday banquet.

Queen Jella. Just thinking about her made me let out a bitter scoff, tossing my phone onto the bed beside me. That woman possessed an ego the size of the palace, and Seraphina being around her made me feel slightly restless.

As far as I was concerned, attending her banquet was a suicide mission, especially for someone like Sera, who had no idea what she was walking into. She had no idea what kind of woman Queen Jella truly was, nor the kind of punishments she was capable of dishing out.

I did. I knew all too well.

I'd spent most of my time trying to avoid those banquets, and when I couldn't avoid them, I made sure to stay as invisible as possible, even though it was difficult for me to not draw attention.

The few times I'd accidentally stolen the spotlight—whether by saying the wrong thing, wearing the wrong dress, or simply existing in a way that drew people's attention—had been met with harsh consequences.

Jella wasn't just a jealous freak; she was a control freak. If someone even hinted at taking attention away from her, she made sure they regretted it, and if Seraphina managed to pique the interest of the guests at tonight's banquet, there was no doubt in my mind that Jella would find a way to make her suffer for it.

I didn't know whether to laugh at the thought or feel sorry for Seraphina. A part of me—probably the petty, vindictive part—thought she deserved whatever punishment she might get for going to the banquet and not listening to my advice.

But another part of me felt a pang of guilt at the thought of Seraphina enduring what I'd gotten used to enduring.

"Not my problem," I muttered to myself, rolling onto my side and staring blankly at the wall.

She wanted to act bold, to throw herself into the fire? Fine. Let her. It wasn't my job to save her from herself, especially not after what she did to me on the rooftop. If she wanted to play princess and mingle with the wolves, then she could deal with the consequences.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I continued to stare up at the ceiling, contemplating ways to kill time. Maybe I could sneak out and do something reckless—anything to take my mind off the situation, but before I could settle on an idea, a sudden knock at the door jolted me out of my thoughts.

I groaned, dragging myself off the bed and trudging toward the door. When I opened it, the first thing I saw was a lunch box shoved in my face. My eyebrows shot up in surprise, and as the lunch box was moved away, I found myself staring at Yuna, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Are you serious right now?" I asked, shaking my head.

Yuna shrugged, her grin widening. "What? I figured you'd need this," she said. "I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten anything since last night, and seeing as you've barricaded yourself in here, I thought I'd bring you some food before you starve to death."

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "Shouldn't you be in class?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She waved a dismissive hand. "Eh, it's just math. I'll catch up later. Besides, this seemed more important."

I let out a soft scoff, stepping aside to let her in. "You're too much, you know that?"

"Someone's got to take care of you," she shot back, heading straight for my bed without waiting for an invitation. She plopped down on the edge and began unpacking the lunch box.

I shut the door and followed her, watching as she set out a neat little spread of sandwiches, fruit, and a small bottle of juice. "You really didn't have to do this," I said, sitting down on the other side of the bed.

"I know," she replied with a grin, "but I wanted to. You're welcome, by the way."

I rolled my eyes, picking up one of the sandwiches and examining it like it was some alien artifact. "Just so you know, I could go without eating for a day or two and be fine," I said, taking a tentative bite. "I don't exactly enjoy eating all that much."

Yuna froze mid-bite, narrowing her eyes at me like I'd just said something deeply offensive. "Who hurt you?" she asked dramatically, throwing me a mock glare. "Seriously, how can you not enjoy eating? Food is, like, the best thing ever."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I don't know. I've just never been one of those people who live to eat. Eating feels... obligatory, not enjoyable."

She clicked her tongue, shaking her head in exaggerated disappointment. "You're hopeless," she said, but there was a teasing lilt in her voice.

"So," she said, breaking the silence, "how long are you planning to stay cooped up in here?"

I shrugged, taking another bite of the sandwich. "As long as it takes for everyone to forget about the rooftop incident."

Yuna's expression softened, and she set her food aside, leaning toward me slightly. "You know, they'll probably stop talking about it sooner than you think," she said gently. "High school gossip has a short shelf life."

"Yeah, well, I'm not taking any chances," I muttered, picking at the crust of my sandwich. "I don't need anyone reminding me of what happened."

Yuna hesitated for a moment before reaching out to nudge my shoulder. "Hey," she said, her voice light but sincere. "It's their loss if they're too dumb to see how awesome you are."

I frowned lightly at Yuna's comment, and my curiosity suddenly piqued. "What team do you play for?" I asked, tilting my head as I studied her.

She blinked, her expression twisting into one of confusion. "What?" she asked, clearly lost. "What are you talking about?"

I sighed, feeling both amused and slightly exasperated. "I'm talking about your sexuality," I clarified, leaning back against the bedframe. "Do you like girls or boys?"

The reaction was immediate. Yuna choked on her sandwich, coughing violently as her eyes widened in shock. I watched with a mix of amusement and concern as she pounded her chest and tried to recover.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally managed to take a breath and glare at me.

"What kind of question is that?" she asked, her voice still rasping slightly.

I shrugged, entirely unfazed by her reaction. "I was just curious," I said simply, reaching for another bite of my sandwich. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Yuna rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed, but after a moment, she let out a resigned sigh. "Fine," she said, crossing her arms. "For your information, I play for both teams. It depends entirely on my mood and my environment."

I raised an eyebrow at her response, pleasantly surprised. "Interesting," I muttered under my breath, more to myself than to her.

Yuna caught the word and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Wait a minute," she said, leaning slightly closer to me. "Why are you even asking me this? Don't tell me you like me or something."

I immediately shook my head, almost laughing at the suggestion. "Don't get ahead of yourself, darling," I said, my tone dry. "No offense, but you're definitely not my type."

Yuna shrugged nonchalantly, biting into her sandwich again. "Good," she said between bites. "Because you're not my type either."

That caught me off guard. My eyebrows shot up, and I stared at her in disbelief. "I'm not your type?" I repeated, the words feeling foreign and almost offensive on my tongue. "What do you mean I'm not your type?"

Yuna looked up at me, her expression calm and almost amused. "Exactly what I said," she replied casually. "You're not my type."

I blinked, trying to process what she had just said. It wasn't like I was particularly interested in her opinion, but it was the first time anyone had ever told me that I wasn't their type. I wasn't used to it, and for some reason, it felt oddly unsettling.

"Well," I said, crossing my arms and narrowing my eyes at her, "what is your type, then?"

Yuna paused, her eyes darting upward as she appeared to think about it. After a moment, she looked back at me with a small, apologetic smile. "Don't get mad," she said, holding up her hands as if to ward off any potential outburst. "But if I had to use someone we both know to describe my physical type in a girl... it would definitely be Seraphina Vale."

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