Elysium: Desired by the Cold-hearted Princess [GL]
Chapter 204 204: Alone and Exhausted

Seraphina's POV

The moment I stepped through the doors of my family home, all I wanted was to head straight upstairs, throw myself into my bed, and let the exhaustion of the day swallow me whole.

Between the funeral, the overwhelming conversation with King Orion, Darius, and the mental gymnastics I had been doing to process everything, I felt like my body wasn't even my own anymore.

But of course, because my life was cursed, I was met with an unwelcome sight the second I walked into the living room.

Gianna.

Sitting on one of the sofas, legs crossed, arms folded, and wearing the most annoyed expression I had ever seen on her face. Like she had been waiting for me.

I immediately told myself to ignore her. Just walk past her, keep my head high, and act like she didn't exist. If I let her get to me, if I engaged, she'd make my night even worse than it already was.

But before I could even take a single step toward the stairs, her sharp, condescending voice rang through the room.

"Seraphina."

I stopped in my tracks, my hands balling into fists at my sides. Of course.

I turned my head slightly, leveling her with a blank stare.

"Why did you have to get home so late?" she demanded, her tone clipped, like she had the right to ask me anything. "And more importantly, why did the king summon you to the palace?"

I frowned, the exhaustion in my bones suddenly laced with irritation. "Why do you find it so difficult to just mind your own damn business?" I snapped. "Instead of trying to stick your nose where it doesn't belong?"

Gianna scoffed, uncrossing her legs and sitting up straighter, her piercing gaze narrowing at me. "As your current legal guardian, I have every right to demand answers from you, young lady," she said, her voice sickeningly patronizing. "So how about you be a good girl and just answer me?"

A sharp feeling of anger shot through me at her words and at the way she was pretending like she had any authority over me.

I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised they didn't get stuck. "I don't have an obligation to tell you anything about my personal business," I shot back. "If you're that curious, why don't you march yourself over to the palace and ask the king yourself?"

The muscles in Gianna's jaw tensed, her expression darkening as she stared at me with thinly veiled disdain, but I wasn't in the mood to entertain her little power trip, so I turned on my heel and started walking toward the stairs, fully intending to end this ridiculous conversation before it went any further.

But, predictably, she wasn't done.

"You better watch your tone with me, Seraphina," she called out.

I let out a humorless chuckle, pausing on the first step of the staircase. "Or what?" I said over my shoulder, my voice dripping with mock curiosity. "You'll throw a tantrum?"

Gianna stood abruptly, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she moved toward me. "Your father might have let you do whatever you wanted, but I am not as lenient as he was," she seethed. "You live under my roof now, and as long as that is the case, you will show me some respect."

I turned to face her fully, slowly tilting my head.

"Your roof?" I repeated, feigning confusion. "Funny, because last time I checked, this was my father's house, and now that he's gone, it's mine. So, technically, you live under my roof."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes flashing with barely contained rage. "That's not how the law sees it," she hissed. "Legally, I am your guardian. Which means I control this house. I control your father's estate, and I decide what happens to you."

I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into the fabric of my dress. I knew this was what she wanted—to get under my skin, to make me feel powerless, and the worst part?

She was right.

At least, for now.

Until my father's will was settled, until I figured out a way to get her out of my life or I was of age, she had legal power over me. Over this house. Over my father's legacy, and that knowledge alone was infuriating.

But I refused to let her see that.

So instead of lashing out, instead of giving her the reaction she wanted, I simply smiled.

A slow, calculated smile.

"Well," I said, my tone eerily sweet. "Enjoy it while you can, Gianna."

Her brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features.

"Because," I continued, taking a step closer, lowering my voice just enough to make her listen, "it won't last forever."

Gianna's expression faltered just for a second. Just long enough for me to see it—the doubt.

And that was all I needed.

Without waiting for her response, I turned and walked up the stairs, my posture relaxed and my smirk lingering. I could feel her gaze burning into my back, but I didn't give her the satisfaction of looking back.

As soon as I reached my room, I wasted no time locking the door behind me. It wasn't as if Gianna would barge in—she had more pride than that—but I didn't want to take any chances. I needed to be alone.

Letting out a tired breath, I walked over to my bed and collapsed onto the mattress, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

For a moment, I just lay there, listening to my own breathing, trying to feel something—anything other than exhaustion and frustration—but then, like a cruel trick played by my own mind, memories began to creep in.

Memories of my father, back when he wasn't the man who had married her. Back when he was just my father, and then there were the happier memories—ones that felt like they belonged to another life entirely.

Why did my mother have to die, and why, after everything, did my father have to marry Gianna of all people?

Even before he died, he had admitted that he had no choice. That it wasn't an easy decision, but I still didn't understand.

He was one of the most powerful men in Aldoria. He had influence, strength, and loyalty from the king himself. Why couldn't he have found another way?

There were so many things I wanted to ask him. So many things I wanted him to explain, but he was gone, and I was alone.

My vision blurred, my chest tightening. My fingers curled into the sheets, gripping the fabric as if it could calm me.

I wasn't going to cry.

I wasn't going to cry.

I forced myself to take deep, slow breaths, blinking rapidly to clear the tears before they could fall.

My father didn't deserve my tears. Not after everything. Not after leaving me with her, and not after making decisions for my life that I had no say in.

I turned onto my side, willing myself to push the thoughts away. I was too exhausted to dwell on it, and no matter how much I thought about it, I wasn't going to get any answers.

I shut my eyes, focusing on my breathing. Tomorrow, I will deal with everything. Tomorrow, I would decide what to do next, but for tonight, I just needed to sleep.