Chapter 12: Cracks in the Ice
The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the sitting room, gilding the space in soft gold. Aria sat by the window, a book open in her lap, though she hadn't turned a page in over fifteen minutes. Her thoughts were far from the ink on the paper.
The message from her mother still echoed in her mind. Appearances are everything. It was the mantra she had grown up with, the armor her parents had wrapped around her from childhood. And now, it served as a reminder of the life she had walked into—one where she was little more than a pawn with a beautiful face and a family name worth trading.
The door creaked open behind her.
She didn't need to turn around to know it was Elias. His presence filled a room in a way few others could—quiet, yet commanding. She felt the air shift, tighter somehow.
He didn't say anything at first. Just walked to the opposite side of the room, stopping in front of the liquor cabinet. The soft clink of glass told her he was pouring himself a drink. Something about that sound grounded her, reminded her that despite the cold exterior, he was still human.
"I didn't mean to be harsh this morning."
The words caught her off guard.
Aria looked up. Elias hadn't turned around. His broad back was to her, his hand still resting on the rim of the glass. His voice had been low, nearly swallowed by the room's silence.
She waited for more, but none came.
"You were just being honest," she said softly. "I think I prefer that to the silence."
He turned then, glass in hand, and looked at her. The usual guarded expression was still there, but his eyes held something new—weariness, perhaps, or regret.
"You don't belong here," he said after a moment. "Not in this world. Not with me."
"I didn't choose this world," Aria replied, setting the book aside. "But I'm in it now."
A heavy pause hung between them.
Elias walked over and sat in the armchair across from her. It was the first time they had been this close without the buffer of cold commands or public expectations. She studied him—his sharp jawline, the dark hair falling just slightly over his brow, the tired look in his eyes he tried so hard to mask.
"You think I'm cruel," he said suddenly.
Aria blinked. "I think... you're afraid of being anything else."
That made him pause. He stared at her, and for a moment, Aria wondered if she had gone too far. But then something shifted in his eyes. Not anger. Not offense. Just... silence. A different kind.
"You remind me of someone I used to know," he said finally, his voice quieter than before. "Someone who wanted more than what the world was willing to give."
"What happened to her?"
"She died." His answer was flat, without embellishment. "Trying to be brave in a world that didn't deserve her."
Aria's breath caught.
Elias took a sip of his drink, his gaze far away now. "After that, I stopped believing in kindness. In softness. Those things get people hurt."
"And now you punish the people who still have them," Aria whispered.
His gaze snapped back to her. "No. I try to protect them."
"But not by letting them in."
He didn't answer. The silence between them wasn't cold now—it was charged, heavy with unsaid things.
Aria stood, walking to the window. The sky outside was turning dusky, painting the horizon in deep hues of lavender and gold. "I don't want your money, Elias. I never did. I just wanted to matter."
"You do," he said before he could stop himself.
She turned, eyes meeting his. "Then why do you treat me like I don't?"
Elias looked down into his glass, then set it aside. "Because the moment you start to matter... that's when it all becomes dangerous."
There it was—the crack in the armor.
Aria stepped closer, heart pounding. She wasn't sure if it was courage or desperation, but something inside her had had enough of silence. "You think you're protecting me by pushing me away. But all you're doing is making this house colder. Lonelier."
He didn't flinch. Didn't move. But his jaw tightened.
"I won't beg for affection," she continued, voice steady despite the storm inside her. "But I won't pretend I'm not human either. I bleed. I ache. And I want—no, I deserve—more than to be just another beautiful trophy you can keep at a distance."
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Then Elias stood, walking slowly toward her until only inches separated them. He didn't touch her. Didn't speak. But his gaze roamed her face with something that looked too much like longing.
"You're not a trophy, Aria," he said hoarsely. "You're a reminder."
"Of what?"
"That I can still lose something I care about."
Her breath hitched. The words hit harder than any declaration of love could have.
She stepped back, needing space to breathe, to think. "Then stop punishing me for being here."
And with that, she walked past him, her footsteps soft against the polished floor. She didn't look back, even though every part of her wanted to.
Elias remained standing by the window, his hand curled into a fist at his side. The drink sat forgotten on the table. Outside, the dusk deepened into night.
And inside, for the first time, something had shifted.