Elysium: Desired by the Cold-hearted Princess [GL]
Chapter 223 223: Rattled

Electra's POV

I had barely taken three steps into the palace before I heard my name being called. I turned, frowning, and found a servant approaching me with hurried steps. His dark eyes flickered with something close to apprehension, and I instantly knew I wouldn't like whatever he had to say.

"I apologize for interrupting you, Your Highness," he said quickly, bowing slightly. "But the queen requests your presence."

For a moment, I said nothing, processing the words. The Queen. Jella. That old witch.

How the hell did she know I was even here?

I hadn't sent word of my arrival—not to my father, not to anyone. The only logical explanation was that she had stationed someone at the gates, keeping watch for me, and knowing that I couldn't even come and go as I liked without her knowing wasn't exactly a comforting thought.

I felt very annoyed, but I forced my expression into something neutral, feigning indifference.

"Did she say why?" I asked, though I already knew I wouldn't get an answer.

The servant only shook his head. "No, Your Highness. She only asked that I bring you to her immediately."

Of course, she did.

I exhaled sharply, rolling my shoulders back. This wasn't why I'd come to the palace. I was here for my father, to ask him for a favor—one I doubted he'd grant, but I had to try.

The last thing I wanted was to waste my time playing whatever game Jella had prepared for me today.

But, as much as I despised talking to her, I could also see this as an opportunity. I had been meaning to confront her about her latest betrayal, which was her attempt to replace me, and what better time than now to bring it up with her?

So, rather than refuse, I nodded once. "Fine. Lead the way."

The servant didn't hesitate. He turned on his heel, and I followed behind.

After what felt like walking for an eternity, even though it was barely five minutes, we finally arrived outside her chamber, and the servant stopped and knocked lightly on the door.

"Your Majesty, Princess Electra is here."

A brief silence followed before a voice—the witch's voice—responded from within.

"Let her in."

The servant wasted no time. He pushed open the door and gestured for me to step inside before bowing and excusing himself.

I squared my shoulders and stepped into the room, and as soon as I did, I didn't hesitate.

No pleasantries. No fake smiles, certainly, no empty courtesies.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice sharp, and my eyes locked on her. "Why did you call for me?"

She barely spared me a glance as she sat by the large window, looking as regal and composed as ever.

Then she scoffed.

"Can't you at least greet me like a normal person?" she asked, turning to face me, her piercing eyes filled with mock disappointment.

I let out a low, unimpressed laugh.

"I thought we already established that I'm not exactly a normal person," I shot back, crossing my arms. "So how about you get straight to the point? Or better yet, I say what I came here to say first, then get the hell out of here before you waste more of my time."

Jella's lips curled into a smirk.

There it was. That twisted amusement. The same look she always had when she was plotting something and was planning on rattling me just for her entertainment.

With a slow movement, she stood from her seat and turned fully toward me.

"Ah, my darling Electra," she purred, mocking sweetness dripping from her voice. "Still such a rude little bitch. I must say, I appreciate that you haven't changed. It will make things all the more satisfying when I finally get to throw you off your high horse."

My lips twitched, a dry laugh escaping me.

"Oh, so we're getting straight to the threats now?" I mused. "How refreshing. Usually, you waste at least a minute pretending to care and beating around the bush before you show your claws."

She merely smiled—a cold, calculated smile.

"If you already know where this conversation is going, then let's not waste each other's time," she said, tilting her head slightly. "You're going to be replaced, Electra. The council sees it. The people will see it, and soon, you'll see it too. So for your own good, I'd advise that you give up willingly instead of fighting for what's already lost."

My eyes flashed, heat rising in my chest. I stepped forward, tilting my head slightly in mock curiosity.

"You mean Hunter?" I asked, smirking. "Do you really think that bastard is going to take my place?"

Jella's smile widened, pleased that I already knew. I could see it in her eyes—she thought she had already won.

Too bad for her; I don't lose.

"Oh, Electra," she cooed, stepping closer, voice dripping with condescension. "You really should start preparing yourself for reality. Your claim to the throne was always weak, and you were merely tolerated because there was no other option, but now? Now there is, meaning your days of being significant are finally over."

I let out a low, mocking hum.

"Right. Because a man who's spent his entire life hidden away in obscurity is suddenly fit to be king?" I sneered. "How convenient."

She raised a brow, amusement flickering across her face.

"More fit than a delinquent like you, if you ask anyone," she said simply. "The council knows it, and soon, the people will know it too."

My smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. I took another step forward, closing the space between us.

"If you think I'm going to let you and your council of old fools take away what's mine, you're delusional," I whispered. "I don't care what game you're playing, what pathetic bastard you've dug up, or how much you want me gone."

I leaned in slightly, my eyes gleaming.

"I am Electra Vale, and whether you like it or now, I will be the next queen of Elmeria, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. So my advice: kill yourself now while you still have the chance, or I'll kill you myself after I get rid of your new lackey."

Jella's smirk faltered—just for a split second, and that's how I knew—I was getting under her skin. She probably wasn't as confident as she was trying to seem, which to me, was a good sign.

She quickly recovered, her expression smoothing back into cold confidence. "We'll see about that," she murmured, turning away as if I wasn't even worth the energy anymore.

It was classic Jella.

Whenever she felt like she was losing control, she would act dismissive, like she was the one with the upper hand, but I knew better.

The hag was rattled.

Good.

I stepped back, rolling my shoulders before flashing her one last mocking smile.

"Enjoy your fantasies while you can, Mother," I said, voice dripping with fake politeness. "Because soon, I'll make sure you choke on them, and when I'm done, I'll burn you alive."

Then, without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked out, leaving her alone with her delusions.

I didn't need to hear whatever pathetic last words she had prepared.

I had more important things to do.

Like figuring out how to bury her ambitions before she buried mine.

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