Chapter 61 Stop Playing with My Hair, Elaine!

Alexander sat on the glass-topped table like a small, fragile throne, one knee tucked up beneath the sweep of his gown. The chiffon pooled around him in layered clouds the colour of faded lilies, sheer and trembling with each shallow breath.

He was reviewing the budget allocate to the palace’s maintenance.

Tiny, embroidered blossoms—ivory threads threaded with a faint, pearly shimmer—climbed the fabric in sinuous vines, their petals catching the light and throwing soft, iridescent specks across his bare shoulders.

The gown’s bodice was cut low at the back, the delicate straps braided with silken ribbon that matched the ribbon woven through his long, silver-tinged hair.

Small flowers—real, not stitched—were pinned among the strands, their buds half-open and fragrant, a quiet contrast to the tautness in his posture.

Elaine sat beside him on the edge of the table, knees almost touching his. Her presence was large in the room—broad-shouldered, certain, the kind of person who filled space just by being in it.

When she reached out, Alexander’s hands tightened reflexively, and she laughed softly, brushing his hair back with the practiced gentleness of someone who had done this a thousand times. He swatted her hand away, more annoyed than hurt.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop?" he snarled, voice low and sharp. "Even if you’re my husband, until the divorce is final or not, I won’t tolerate it."

Elaine blinked, surprised, then tilted her head. "What? I thought we were ignoring that contract of ours."

"I haven’t said anything." Alexander’s chin lifted, eyes narrowing as he steadied himself on the tabletop. "It still depends on your performance, Husband. If you mistreat me like you did before, I will use that contract very efficiently. Also, stop playing with my hair!"

"I like playing with your hair."

"But I don’t like when someone disturbs me while I am doing something important."

Elaine let out a long, soft sigh, the kind that carried equal parts exasperation and affection. "You aren’t going to forgive me this soon, are you?"

"I will remind you whenever I want to." He leaned away just enough to look at her properly. "You should feel guilty for how you treated me. Don’t think we’re a soft, loving couple right now. For now, we’re just friends. There is no ’love’ between us."

Elaine clicked her tongue, amused and a little wounded. "You’re too good at confusing me."

Alexander forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "Oh? Was he that good, then?"

"Can we not talk about him?" Elaine’s voice tightened. She let her fingers trail down his arm, then stopped when Alexander flinched.

"Why not?" He exhaled, slow and controlled. "He was your first love. People don’t forget their firsts in a week, or a month, or even a year. Some even spend their lifetime engrossed in their memories."

Elaine rubbed the bridge of her nose with the pad of her thumb, shoulders folding inward. "Grudges are your specialty, right? You always find a way to make me feel small. Yesterday, everything felt... fine."

"Fine?" Alexander’s laugh was dry. "We spoke a little. I let you sleep next to me after you fucked me because I wanted to, not because you earned it. Don’t get delusional."

Her hands moved before she thought about it. She tugged him, and despite himself he came—pulled into her lap, his gown fanning around them like mist. Her body was warm and solid, enormous and protective; hers was a strength that had always been his challenge. He tried to push back once, twice, then stopped.

Resistance felt ridiculous when her arms closed around him.

"Don’t fight, Alexander," she murmured, forehead resting against his temple.

He huffed, sulking into the crook of her shoulder. "Don’t use your strength on me, alpha."

"I am not using my strength." Her voice was soft but edged with iron. "I just want to hold you."

He pressed his face into the hollow of her neck, the chiffon whispering against his skin. "I haven’t allowed you to hold me."

"You are a cute, little princess." She curled a thumb along the curve of his cheek, half-affection, half-tease. "I’m far too chivalrous for that."

"I don’t find you chivalrous at all." He muttered the words, but there was heat under them now, a tug that made the room spin a touch.

"Why?" Elaine’s fingers threaded through the ribbon at his nape, fingers looping the silver-streaked hair. "Aren’t I chivalrous in bed? I hear your little cries and coax you, don’t I?"

Alexander’s cheeks warmed, though he tried not to let it show. He let out a breathy, near-laugh. "Stop it. Stop using that voice."

She smiled then, slow and private, as if she’d won something she’d wanted for a long time. "When you snarl at me, it makes me feel like a proper husband," she said. "And when you sulk, I want to mend you."

He looked up at her—so small and fragile, and yet the lines of control around her mouth were clear. "Mend me how, Elaine? With promises you’ll break?"

"No." Her hand flattened against the small of his back. "With patience. With honesty. I can be better. Aren’t you tired of being the one to ask for scraps of kindness?" Her voice dropped. "Don’t make me earn your trust the way you earned my favours."

"I don’t earn your favours! You earn them!"

"As you say, princess."

Alexander closed his eyes for a heartbeat, the embroidered flowers blurring into a wash of pale light. The gown’s fabric clung to the planes of his body, translucent where it dipped and layered where it gathered; the vines of embroidery traced a path from his shoulders, down the gentle swell of his chest, along the curve of his thighs.

At the hem, the fabric was edged with a faint fringe of lace, and when Elaine’s fingers skimmed it, they left a trembling trail.

"If you start bargaining with me," he said quietly, "I’ll remind you of everything. I will remind you how it felt the night you left me after that."

Her face flickered, the humour gone, replaced by an emotion that was almost reverent. "I remember. I remember the cold. And I remember the look in your eyes." She inhaled, slow, as if pulling herself together. "But I’m here now. I want to stay."