LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 12: Cold gaze
Meanwhile, Theron sat in the bedchamber that he once shared with Elara. The room was dim, the heavy curtains drawn tight against the early morning light. Elara lay on the bed, her body swathed in bandages, a delicate network of medical supplies surrounding her — herbs, vials, and poultices, the scent of antiseptic hanging thick in the air. Her chest rose and fell with shallow, labored breaths, the rise of her skin seeming so fragile against the white sheets. Her face was pale, but her beauty was untouched by the damage she had endured.
Theron, meanwhile, stood out on the patio, staring at the sky as the first hints of dawn painted the horizon. The sun was on the verge of rising, but it was lost to him. He looked every bit the picture of calm, but only he knew the storm brewing within him. The weight of it all — the lies, the deceit, and the chaos he had orchestrated — gnawed at him from the inside out. His mind was a blur of thoughts, fueled by alcohol and desperation. His personal attendant, Olivia, stood near the door, watching him.
Her eyes lingered on Elara, who lay there helplessly. Olivia's gaze was full of envy, a venomous green creeping into her stare. She should be the one lying in that bed, in the arms of the King. Instead, Elara had claimed what Olivia thought was hers. The green-eyed monster swelled inside her, but she tore her gaze away, forcing her mind to focus. Just remember the plan . Just remember the plan , she chanted silently, the words becoming a mantra in her head.
She moved toward Theron, her steps careful, calculated. When she reached him, she placed a hand on his back, her touch gentle but full of meaning. But Theron recoiled sharply, a scowl forming on his face as if her presence disgusted him. His sharp glare sliced through her, and Olivia's heart twisted in her chest, but she didn't let the hurt show. She remained silent, her eyes lowering in submission.
"You shouldn't be here," Theron's voice was low, laced with anger, as he turned his back to her.
Her voice, soft and trembling, betrayed her inner turmoil. "I was just worried about you, Theron... you've been drinking so much... your mind's not in the right—" Before she could finish her words, Theron's hand lashed out. The slap echoed through the room, leaving her stunned, her cheek stinging.
"Don't you f*ckin' dare insert yourself where you're not needed," he spat, his voice filled with venom.
Olivia stood there, breath caught in her throat, her eyes burning with unshed tears. But she said nothing, merely staring at him, her gaze now void of the familiar affection. The sound of her breath was the only noise that lingered for a moment before...
A sharp gasp cut through the air, drawing both of their attention. Elara.
The Queen's eyes fluttered open, and the tension in the room surged to new heights.
Theron stood motionless behind the fluttering curtains, his gaze locked on Elara. Her chest rose and fell with slow, uneven breaths, her form still and fragile against the sheets. He watched, his eyes cold, void of any tenderness but hatred when looking at her . His body remained tense, but there was no sign of the emotion that should have been there — no relief, no fear, nothing. Just a chilling stillness.
Olivia, too, stood in silence beside him, her eyes flicking between the Queen and the King, as if waiting for some reaction, some sign from Theron. But he gave her nothing.
Her eyes then shifted, locking onto his face, trying to read what lay beneath that impenetrable coldness. But there was nothing to find. He was as distant as ever.
"Get the healers," he said, his voice flat, the command as cold as his gaze.
Without waiting for a response, Theron began to walk toward the door, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. Olivia hesitated for a moment, staring down at the Queen before rushing to follow the King.
"But Your Majesty," she stammered, trying to keep up with him. "Where will you be going? The Queen Mother—"
Theron froze in his tracks, his back still to her. The atmosphere in the room shifted, and a cold tension filled the space. His hands clenched into fists, his fury suddenly surging to the surface.
"I am your King," he thundered, turning on Olivia with such force that she flinched. "Obey my words and stop including my mother, or is she the one crowned here?" His voice was sharp, each word dripping with anger.
Olivia's face flushed red with embarrassment, her body instinctively bowing lower as she stammered an apology. "No... Your Majesty," she muttered, the words barely a whisper, overwhelmed by the force of his rage.
Theron glared at her, his voice rising, more thunderous now. "ANSWER ME!"
"No, Your Majesty," Olivia managed to stutter, her head still bowed low.
Theron's expression softened, but only slightly, as he took in a deep breath, collecting himself. "Good," he said coldly, his words final. "Now go carry out my orders. Guard over your Queen while the healers attend to her. Feed her, be there to help her bathe and dress. But do not speak to me again unless I speak to you."
Olivia didn't dare argue, nodding hastily as she swallowed her pride. But before she could say another word, Theron turned his back on her, his figure retreating into the shadows. The silence was deafening, heavy with the unspoken tension between them.