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Bound To The Crown I Was Never Meant To Wear
img img Bound To The Crown I Was Never Meant To Wear img Chapter 3 The room feels smaller
3 Chapters
Chapter 6 Watching her from the back row img
Chapter 7 The first night i lost control img
Chapter 8 Pleasure without permission img
Chapter 9 His hands, my silence img
Chapter 10 Public smiles, private chains img
Chapter 11 When desire becomes routine img
Chapter 12 The First Crack in Him img
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Chapter 3 The room feels smaller

Aurelia had never believed in lingering effects.

Life had taught her efficiency, thoughts were meant to be ordered, emotions contained, moments acknowledged and released. That was how one survived under constant observation. That was how one remained untouched.

And yet, hours after leaving the lecture hall, Dr. Elara Voss lingered.

The afternoon session blurred past Aurelia in neat segments of policy discussion and ceremonial protocol. She answered when addressed, listened when required, smiled when expected. No one noticed anything amiss. They never did.

Still, she found herself thinking of Elara's voice. The way it had held neither reverence nor defiance, only certainty. The way her eyes had rested on Aurelia without hesitation, without calculation.

It unsettled her.

By early evening, Aurelia retreated to the academy library, a vast space of stone and glass that echoed softly even when nearly empty. She liked it at this hour. The silence here was deliberate, disciplined. It demanded respect.

She selected a desk near the back and opened her tablet, pulling up her assignment for Contemporary Political Philosophy. The question was deceptively simple: Discuss the moral implications of inherited authority in modern governance.

Aurelia stared at the screen.

Inherited authority was not an abstract concept to her. It was the foundation of her existence.

She began to write, fingers moving with measured confidence, but the words came slower than usual. Every sentence felt too close to truth. Too revealing. She paused, erased, rewrote.

"Struggling?"

The voice was calm. Familiar.

Aurelia looked up.

Dr. Voss stood a few feet away, holding a single book against her chest. She had changed out of her formal blazer into a softer coat, the severity of her earlier appearance eased but not diminished. In the library's dim light, she looked... different. Less distant.

"I didn't realize the library was closed to faculty," Aurelia said lightly.

"It isn't," Elara replied. "But I try not to intrude."

"You're not," Aurelia said before she could stop herself.

Elara's brow lifted slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her eyes. "May I?"

She gestured to the chair opposite. Aurelia nodded.

Elara sat, placing the book carefully on the table between them, as if mindful of the space she occupied. "I saw you'd checked out several texts on political legitimacy earlier," she said. "I thought you might appreciate a counterpoint."

She slid the book forward. Aurelia glanced at the title, recognition stirring.

"I have," Aurelia said. "But not this edition."

"It challenges the idea that authority must be justified publicly to be valid," Elara explained. "A controversial stance."

"Controversy seems unavoidable," Aurelia replied.

Elara's lips curved faintly. "That's usually a sign you're asking the right questions."

The room did feel smaller then. Not because of proximity, but because Aurelia was suddenly aware of everything. The steady rhythm of her own breathing. The faint scent of Elara's perfume, something subtle, restrained. The way her presence anchored the air.

"You're unusually candid with me," Aurelia observed quietly.

Elara's gaze didn't waver. "I treat my students as thinkers, not ornaments."

Aurelia held her gaze. "Even when those students are... complicated?"

"Especially then," Elara said.

Silence settled, thick but not uncomfortable.

Aurelia closed her tablet. "You know," she said slowly, "most people avoid speaking to me like this."

Elara tilted her head. "And does that trouble you?"

"Yes," Aurelia admitted. "And no."

Elara studied her, expression softening just enough to suggest empathy without indulgence. "Power isolates," she said. "Even when it's inherited."

Aurelia's fingers tightened around the edge of the table. "You speak as though you've seen it."

"I have," Elara replied. "Just not from your side."

Their eyes locked again.

For a moment, Aurelia forgot herself. Forgot the crown. Forgot the academy. Forgot the weight of everything she was expected to become.

She only saw the woman in front of her.

Elara was the first to look away.

"I should go," she said quietly, rising. "Before this conversation becomes inappropriate."

Aurelia stood as well. "Has it?"

Elara hesitated, just long enough to be noticeable. "Not yet."

She gathered her book, offering Aurelia a composed nod. "Good night, Your Highness."

"Good night, Dr. Voss."

As Elara walked away, Aurelia remained standing, her heart beating too loudly in the quiet hall.

The room expanded again once she was gone.

But something else had changed.

And Aurelia suspected it wouldn't be so easy to ignore.

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