Chapter 510 A Queen Is Not Just A Woman

Chapter 510 A Queen Is Not Just A Woman
(Adelaide)

Adelaide lowered her eyes to the dark berry cordial swirling gently inside her goblet. 
"I don't think I'm her." 
"No." His answer came immediately. "You aren't." 
She looked up. 
"You are something altogether your own." 
The words should have comforted her. Instead... For reasons she couldn't quite explain... They didn't. 
The silence returned, stretching comfortably for Arkael, though Adelaide found herself increasingly aware of the distance to the door behind him. 
She drew a slow breath. "There is... something I wanted to ask." 
His expression brightened. "Anything." 
She hesitated only briefly. 
"I think..." The words felt strangely difficult to say aloud. "...I'd like to return to the Citadel." 
Arkael didn't react. Not outwardly. He regarded her for a long moment, as though politely waiting for the rest of the sentence. 
When none came, he asked quietly, "Return?" 
She nodded. "Only for a little while." 
His head tilted almost imperceptibly. 
"May I ask why?" 
She could hardly tell him the truth. Because your son spent last night dismantling everything I believed about the last few weeks. Because every corridor in this palace now reminds me of a lie. Because I don't know whether I came here willingly... or exactly as you intended. 
Instead she lowered her eyes. "I think everything has happened very quickly." 
"That," Arkael admitted with a warm smile, "is certainly true." 
"I've barely had time to understand any of it." 
"You will." His confidence was absolute. "It simply requires patience." 
Adelaide folded her hands together to stop herself twisting nervously at the fabric of her dress. 
"I appreciate everything you've done for me." 
She paused. 
"But still..." She met his eyes. "...I think I'd rather leave tomorrow." 
The smile remained upon his face. Only... It no longer reached his eyes. 
"You believe the Citadel is still your home." 
It wasn't a question. She considered correcting him. The Citadel had never truly been home. Not really. But Apollo was there. Despite everything that had happened between them... Despite the anger. Despite the grief. Despite the impossible bond that still ached somewhere deep inside her... She knew, with sudden certainty, that she needed to find him, because she does love him. 
"I believe," she answered carefully, "that it's where I need to be." 
Arkael leaned back in his chair. For several long moments he said nothing at all. When he finally spoke, his voice remained as calm and measured as ever. 
"My dear..." 
There was something about the way he said it that made the tiny hairs upon the back of Adelaide's neck rise. 
"You are home." 
He gestured gently towards the chamber surrounding them. 
"The mountain has recognised you. The throne has accepted you. Our people have welcomed you." 
His smile returned. 
"In two days' time the Binding will be complete." 
He spoke the last sentence with such quiet certainty that Adelaide felt something inside her recoil before she understood why. 
"It won't take long." 
She swallowed. "I don't think..." 
"No," he interrupted gently. "I don't think you understand." 
He rose slowly from his chair. Not abruptly. Not threateningly. Simply... deciding the conversation would continue from somewhere else. He wandered towards the crystal windows where Adelaide had spent the day standing, looking out across the basin below. 
"When Aurelia first came here," he said softly, his back still turned to her, "she was frightened too." 
Adelaide's fingers tightened around her goblet. 
"She questioned everything." He looked back over one shoulder. "She wanted to run." 
A sad smile touched his lips. 
"And then..." He turned fully to face her. "...she made the only mistake that truly mattered." 
He began walking back towards her with slow, measured steps. 
"She believed love should weigh more heavily than duty." 
Each sentence landed gently. Kindly. Reasonably. Yet with every step he took, Adelaide found herself instinctively taking one backwards until the backs of her legs met the edge of the window seat. 
"She chose the wrong male." 
His voice remained almost affectionate. 
"It cost her her life." 
Another step. 
"It cost our people a thousand years." 
Another. 
"I will not watch history repeat itself." 
The room suddenly felt much smaller. The warmth from the hearth no longer felt comforting. It felt suffocating. And for the first time since arriving at the Emberborn Palace... Adelaide realised she wanted to leave. 
Now. 
Adelaide couldn't hold his gaze any longer. She lowered her eyes to the goblet cradled between her hands, watching the dark berry cordial ripple gently as her fingers tightened around the crystal. 
"I don't think that's a decision anyone else gets to make." 
Arkael was quiet for a long moment. 
"No," he agreed softly. "Usually they don't." 
The answer surprised her enough that she looked up again. 
His expression hadn't hardened. If anything, it seemed touched by an almost melancholy understanding. 
"But Queens rarely have the luxury of being only women." 
He spoke the words without accusation. Without expectation. Simply as though they were another law of the world, no different from fire being hot or mountains standing tall. 
"I have lived long enough to watch good rulers sacrifice their happiness for strangers who never even learned their names." His eyes drifted briefly towards the crystal windows beyond her shoulder. "They hated every moment of it." 
His gaze returned to hers. 
"And history remembers them as great." 
Something twisted painfully inside Adelaide. 
"I don't want people to remember me." The admission escaped before she had time to reconsider it. 
"I just..." Her voice faltered. "I wanted to live." 
Arkael's face softened. "I know." 
No grand speech followed. No attempt to convince her otherwise. Only those two quiet words. 
I know. 
For the briefest of moments, Adelaide almost believed him. Then he smiled. Not the warm smile that had welcomed her into the palace. Something quieter. Something infinitely more intimate. 
"You know..." he said thoughtfully, "...there were moments today when I almost forgot." 
She frowned. 
"Forgot what?" 
"How young you are."