A/N: Hi Everyone! I am so sorry that I have been gone for so long and haven't updated. Things have been very hectic in my life as I just graduated college, have been traveling, am about to move states and start a full-time job in a couple of weeks. But like I promised, I have every intention to continue with this story. Here is the next part; I hope it is worth the wait!

Ever since my talk with Caius, it was like a spark had been reignited within me. Hope—yes, that's what it was. When I chose to leave the palace, to leave Malachi, it felt like I was giving up, admitting defeat, accepting a life confined within the walls of my family home. Don't get me wrong, I love my family dearly and am immensely grateful for the care and love I received growing up. But now, I wanted something different. That's why I left in the first place. Here, I was a ghost, insignificant no matter how hard I try to matter. But at the palace, I mattered. I had influence, and it was thrilling.

For these past months, I believed that sense of purpose was lost forever. But my conversation with Caius awakened something in me. It was as if I needed permission to forgive Malachi, which sounds insane, I know. After what he did to Leif, it felt like a betrayal to even think of being with him again. But maybe that was naive of me. Caius was right—this is a time of war, and Malachi is the king. He must punish those who act against him. I didn't want to accept that, but now I realized how leniently my family was treated. Sparing Leif was not the smart political move, yet Malachi did it to please me.

Perhaps there was a way to meet halfway. Nothing like what happened to Leif could ever happen again, but that didn't mean I had to give up on Malachi completely.

The realization was both exhilarating and terrifying. It was as if a door I thought was permanently closed had been cracked open, revealing a path I had not dared to consider. The spark of hope flared brighter, illuminating the darkness that had settled in my heart. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for us. A chance to find a way forward, together, amidst the chaos and turmoil of our world.

I stood at the window of my room, looking out at the familiar grounds of the Emberlyn estate. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the landscape. I watched as the shadows lengthened, my mind filled with possibilities. It was time to stop dwelling on what I had lost and start thinking about what I could regain.

With a newfound sense of determination, I made a silent vow to myself. I would find a way to make a difference, to matter once again. And maybe, just maybe, I could find my way back to Malachi, and to the life I had once dreamed of.

The question now is, how do I go about this? My family wouldn't just let me waltz back into the palace, and even if they did, would Malachi even want me to? I left him. I broke the promises I made. At the time, it seemed like there was no other option, but now I find myself questioning everything. Why would he want to be with me after that?

Yet, I never fully understood why he wanted to be with me in the first place. From the moment we met, our connection was undeniable. It felt as though he already knew me, as though our souls were intertwined long before our paths crossed. It took me a while to accept this bond, especially given the violent conquest of my homeland by his hand. But then I saw him incite change, real, tangible change that made the people of the city happier, better off. The nobles may have been angered, but the state of the country undeniably improved under his rule.

Despite the rumors of his ruthlessness, I saw a different side of Malachi. He wasn't unnecessarily violent, not since the day of the conquest—well, that is until the incident with Leif, the reason I left. But Caius made me see the situation differently.

If I was to find a way back, I had to tread carefully. First, I needed to convince my family, particularly my father, that my return to the palace is not an act of defiance but one of purpose. They see me as naive, easily manipulated, but I needed to show them that I had grown, that I was capable of making my own decisions.

Then, there was Malachi. If I could reach him, if I could make him understand why I left and that my feelings for him remained unchanged despite everything, maybe there was hope. I needed to convey that my departure was not out of a lack of love or loyalty but out of confusion and fear for my friend.

With this resolve, I had to find a way to communicate with him. A letter, perhaps, explaining everything—my fears, my regrets, my hopes. But a letter alone might have not been enough. I needed to get close, to speak to him face-to-face. Only then could I truly know if there was a future for us.

I needed allies, and Caius might be the key. He understood the complexities of the situation better than anyone else. If I could enlist his support, he could help me navigate the treacherous waters of family expectations and political realities.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the estate in twilight hues, I felt a spark of determination igniting within me. I wouldn't let my fear dictate my actions any longer. It was time to take control of my destiny, to fight for what I want. And what I want was Malachi, the palace, the life I was building before everything fell apart.

I made a silent vow to myself. I will find a way to return, to mend what was broken, and to reclaim the happiness and purpose I once felt. This was my path, and I would walk it, no matter how daunting it may have seemed.

The next evening, my father called for another family dinner. I had spent the whole day thinking about my plan—to get back to the palace, to see Malachi again, to find purpose. I had built my confidence and resolve, walking into the dining room with newfound determination.

These dinners had become more frequent since the conquest, a reminder of how fickle life could be and how my father feared losing any of us at any time. I cherished these moments with my family, but the conversations often revolved around how Malachi was a monster and how the world had gone to ruin under his rule.

My father sat at the head of the table, my stepmother to his left and Gareth to his right. Maeve was next to Gareth, and I sat beside Maeve with Caius on the other side of me. The twins, sat across from me, next to their mother.

After exchanging simple pleasantries and discussing our days—listening to Gwen and Arya bicker about who did best at their piano lesson—the food was brought out. This was my opportunity to gauge how my father might feel about me leaving again.

As the first course was served, I took a deep breath and gathered my courage. "Father," I began, my voice steady. "I've been thinking a lot lately about my time at the palace, about everything that happened."

The room grew quiet, all eyes turning to me. My father's expression hardened, his fork pausing midway to his mouth. "Elara, we've discussed this. The palace is an dreadful place with that demon in charge. You are safe now, here, at home"

"Please, let me finish," I interjected, surprising even myself with my boldness. "I understand your concerns, and I don't want to ignore what happened. But I also can't ignore how I felt there. I had a purpose, I was making a difference. I felt... alive."

Gareth scoffed, shaking his head. "Alive? With that tyrant? Elara, you're too naive. He used you."

"Maybe," I conceded, meeting Gareth's gaze. "But I also saw the changes he brought, how he helped the common people. He's not the monster everyone thinks he is."

"Elara," my stepmother said sternly, "it's not about what he did for the commoners. It's about what he did to our family."

"I know," I replied, my voice softening. Of course she only cares about the nobles. "But I've begun to see things differently. What happened to Leif and those hurt in the conquest was terrible, but Malachi is the king now. He has to make difficult decisions, especially in times of war."

My father set his fork down, his eyes piercing into mine. "Do you have any idea what you're saying? I will not hear any more of this"

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "I just think there's more to the situation than we realize. Maybe things aren't as black and white as we thought."

My father sat straight in his chair, his gaze never leaving mine. "Elara, whatever you think, remember that Malachi is responsible for immense pain and suffering. This is the end of this conversation."

The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of my father's words settling heavily on my shoulders. It was clear that I would never receive my family's permission to return to the palace. 

Their fears and distrust of Malachi ran too deep.

As the meal continued, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics but the tension stayed and I couldn't help feeling a sense of resolve solidify within me. My family would never understand, never support my decision, but I knew what I had to do. The path ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but I was determined to move forward, ready to face whatever came next.