ADELAIDE STARLIGHT.

I woke up in my room as always, surrounded by luxury and loneliness. The morning light filtered softly through the silk curtains, creating a spectacle of dancing shadows on the damask wallpaper. I carefully removed the sleep mask from my eyes, allowing reality to gradually reach me.

«Another morning without him by my side. How much longer will he continue torturing himself this way»

I stretched languidly in bed, observing the empty space beside me. The wrinkled sheets and slight depression in the mattress were silent witnesses to his previous presence. Atlas always left before dawn, as if he feared facing the daylight with me.

I got up with deliberate movements, my bare feet finding the cold floor.

I prepared for the day with mechanical movements, choosing a blue dress that flowed like water with each step, the dress accentuating my figure, now slowly deforming due to the life that was forming with the passage of time.

The embryonic development of an elf was quite long, taking up to 5 years to complete.

Well, that would be the case if the embryo were completely elven.

In my case, having already given birth to two half-breed children, the gestation period was approximately 22 months.

The intricate embroidery on the dress reminded me of the ones my mother used to wear when I was little and the world seemed simpler.

Upon leaving the room, Arya was already waiting for me, faithful as always. She bowed deeply.

—Good morning, princess—her voice was soft and respectful.

Arya was a moon elf, she had beautiful faint silver skin that subtly glowed along with her beautiful sapphire hair.

—Good morning, Arya. How was your night? —I asked while beginning to walk down the hallway.

—It was fine, my Lady. Thank you for asking —Arya responded, following my steps.

As we advanced through the hallways, receiving bows and greetings, my mind wandered to my husband.

—What do you think Atlas is doing right now, Arya? —I asked, although I already knew the answer.

—Knowing the master, he's probably training hard with Sir Eternal, my lady —Arya responded, allowing herself a small smile.

Since Anastasia died, Atlas hadn't stopped training.

—You're right, Sir Eternal will teach him well —I nodded, though I couldn't help the worry filtering into my voice. Knowing that man, he would probably beat him until he was unconscious.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

The weekly meeting proceeded as usual, discussing family matters that required immediate attention. However, my mind was divided between my responsibilities and the constant worry about Arceus.

My heart ached.

Arceus was now seven years old and had previously been a lively and curious child. After that incident, the naive and carefree boy who rarely trained, now slavishly obeyed his mother, without the tantrums of children his age. Now he was a good boy, so good that it hurt me.

The smiling face of my beloved daughter appeared in my mind. Although more than a year had passed, the wounds from that incident had still not healed.

If she had died from an illness, I could have prepared myself for it. If she had died from an accident or a natural disaster, she wouldn't have hated anyone for it, and maybe she wouldn't have been scarred either. But my daughter had been killed by humans, and my heart was now filled with resentment. There was no way I could feel any other way.

I closed my eyes tightly. I didn't want them to see my weakness, but the emptiness I felt reopened the wounds in my heart.

He could still see Anastasia's kind smile floating in the darkness behind her eyes. Even when I opened them, his silhouette did not disappear from my sight. I replayed the tender moments of the past in my mind, over and over again.

After that, a maelstrom of negative emotions was unleashed in my heart, I bit my lower lip hard trying to suppress the sadness that threatened to erupt.

After the meeting, my steps echoed in the long hallways while I searched for Atlas, who should have already arrived.

The silence was almost tangible, barely interrupted by the soft whisper of wind sneaking through the windows. The scent of old books and polished wood guided me to his office, where I knew I would find him immersed in his eternal documents.

I knew I would find him there, as always, consuming himself in his obsession with finding Enigma...

«When will you understand that destroying yourself won't bring her back?»

I stopped in front of the heavy oak door. The light filtering underneath betrayed his presence. Without knocking, I turned the bronze doorknob and entered the room. There he was, just as I had imagined: bent over his desk, with several scrolls spread out before him.

—Atlas —I called softly.

He raised his gaze, his red eyes meeting mine. A small smile formed on his lips, that smile that after so many years still made my heart skip.

—Adelaide —he responded, straightening in his chair—. Is something wrong?

«Why does he always assume something must be wrong for me to come looking for him?»

—Not everything has to be about problems or work —I said, approaching his desk—. I've found something I want to show you.

I walked towards the ancient gramophone that rested in a corner of the office. It was a family relic that had belonged to generations of Starlights. With delicacy, I placed the record I had brought with me. The music began to fill the room, a soft and nostalgic melody that transported us to happier times.

—Do you remember this song? —I asked, turning to look at him.

I saw how his eyes softened upon recognizing the melody. It was the same one that had played the night we met, at that spring ball where our destinies were intertwined forever.

—How could I forget it —he responded, rising from his chair—. You wore a green dress that night.

—Dance with me —I whispered, extending my hand to him.

Atlas hesitated for a moment, looking at the documents on his desk. But something in my gaze must have convinced him, because he abandoned his work and took my hand, drawing me to him with that natural grace he had always possessed.

We began to move to the rhythm of the music, our bodies finding that familiar tempo we had perfected over the years. His hand on my waist was firm but gentle, and I could feel the warmth of his body through the fabric of my dress.

"Remember when we used to dance without needing excuses? When we laughed without guilt drowning us?"

I rested my head on his chest, allowing myself to feel his warmth, hear his heart.

—I miss you, darling —I whispered, letting my voice convey everything words couldn't express.

I felt how his body trembled at my words, as if each syllable was a dagger in his conscience. I knew he still blamed himself.