His Majesty's Devious Sins

Chapter 244 - Adeline & Elias's SS Part 1: Little Princess

The leaves fell, the branches barren, and soon, sprouts grew, as warmth turned cold again, and the seasons changed.

Two years passed like a breeze, slowly, but surely.

"Careful," Elias instructed his wife, as he helped her step onto his shoes. She had been upset lately, mainly because Adelia and Elios had turned five this year, but mentally, they were as old as ten-year-olds.

Adeline loved to dance with Elias, even though her legs refused to move fluidly.

"Am I too heavy?" Adeline worriedly asked, earning a ripe laugh from Elias.

Elias spun her around, one arm on her waist, and the other holding her hand. Heavy? She was as light as the dust on his shoes. This was the only way they could ever dance, and she seemed to love it, a childlike wonder in her bright eyes.

"As heavy as a feather," Elias informed her, bringing her close, until they were a breath away.

Elias heard her heart skip, her lashes fluttering. He brushed his lips against hers, smiling when she leaned against his powerful c.h.e.s.t.

"Mama, Mama!" Elios shouted, tossing his book bag to the ground. He pushed past his grumpy father and straight into her arms.

"Careful!" Elias barked, his voice much harsher when it came to their children.

Adeline tripped and nearly fell when Elios bulldozed into her. But she caught him, as all mothers would with their children. She hugged him tightly, smiling down at her son.

"How was school, my little angel?" Adeline stroked Elios's dark blond hair, his father's genes coming through.

Adeline couldn't properly bend down, for her knees would give out, so she remained standing.

The only reason Adeline was able to walk a block was that she had become a Pure-Blood, but nothing would change her immobile legs. She never blamed anyone for it, not even herself. Two pairs of legs for two children. She saw it as a fair exchange.

"It was good!" Elios chirped, holding onto his mother's waist, as if his love could ever change her scarlet eyes, like a freshly ripe strawberry.

Elios's gaze wavered whenever he met her stare, for he was reminded of what happened. Then, his grip loosened, fear tugging at his heartstrings.

Did his mother ever hate him for what they had done to her? Did she regret giving birth to them? He overheard a gossiping maid that their mother's legs never worked the same after her birth.

"What's wrong, my little angel? You seem upset…" Adeline trailed off in a worried voice.

Adeline stroked Elios's adorable cheeks that puffed out like a hamster. He sulked towards the ground, pulling away, but she tightened her hold.

"Mama, do you regret giving birth to us?" Elios whispered, tugging at her white dress that made her look like an angel.

In his eyes, his mother was the prettiest woman in the world.

"Of course not!" Adeline scolded, tipping his face upwards to reveal his trembling lips. "Both you and Adelia are a decision I'd never regret in my life. Ever."

Elias's face hardened. He felt a tiny force on his black pants and glanced down to see it was Adelia. She was staring at her older brother with envy, eager for the same affection and attention.

Elias was always humored that Adelia looked exactly like their mother, but her expression resembled his. Adelia was as stoic and cynical as her father.

"But Mama, if you hadn't given birth to us, you'd be able to dance with Papa like the wedding photos…" Elios trailed off, frowning deeply.

Elios felt a dangerous stare pressing into his back and he hugged his mother tighter.

Adeline's gaze softened. She mustered all of her energy and lifted Elios into her arms. She staggered back a bit, but held onto him tightly. He was a big boy now, the weight of two potato sacks, but she strained her body just to hold him.

"Adeline!" Elios sharply said, scowling at her dangerous action. She ignored him.

"Mama…"

Instantly, Elios wrapped his arms around her shoulders, the way he did as a child, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

Adeline saw Elias's gaze turn dark. He took a stormy step forward, fear and panic dancing between fury and rage. She turned her body, knowing the scene would trigger him.

"I like stepping on Papa's toes better," Adeline laughed, soothingly patting Elios's back. "It's much easier to dance when I stand on his shoes and do nothing as he spins me around."

Adeline's legs trembled with Elios's weight, so she staggered to the couch, where she plopped down in relief.

"B-but, Mama—"

"I'd give anything in the world to see you and Adelia," Adeline reassured her children, holding out a hand for Adelia to grab. She saw the longing stare in her daughter, but Adelia didn't move.

Adelia tightly clutched onto her father's pants, her other hand gripping her dress. She had to be a big girl. She needed to be strong. Because her older brother was weak and a cry baby, Adelia had to be strong for him. If she clung onto her parents, then who'd care for the childish Elios?

"If you want something, my little Princess, you must seize it and never let it go," Elias said to his daughter, patting the top of her head whilst smirking down at her.

"If you want something, my little Princess, you mustn't find something inferior to replace it," Elias chortled, but nonetheless, bent down to carry her.

Adelia immediately began to panic, struggling in his arms. "I'm a big girl, I don't need to be carried—"

"Every daughter is a little Princess in their father's eyes," Elias told her, carrying her with one arm whilst his freed hand shifted the bangs from her light pink gaze. He tightened his hold on her, his lips set into a grim line.

Even though Adelia and Elios had drank from their own mother's blood, neither of their strengths changed. They were still the same. Adelia had the weaker vampire genes, and Elios had the stronger ones.

"But I must be a big girl for Elios, or else you'd be burdened, Your Majesty," Adelia mumbled.

Elias's brows shot up. Not the horrid title again. These little scoundrels. This was what Elias got for being the stricter parent.

His own children liked to call him "Your Majesty" instead of "Papa." It always happened when he had a crossed look on his face. Thus, Elias soothed his expression and cleared his throat.

"I've been burdened by you the most," Elias scolded.

Adelia's eyes grew wide. For once, winter melted in her gaze and she was frightened. "But Papa, I—"

"Because you always try to be too m.a.t.u.r.e for your age when your mother and I want to see nothing but your selfish and childish side," Elias deadpanned.

Adelia was at a loss for words. She opened and closed her mouth, her genius brain going blank. She held onto his shoulders, staring into his eyes, the color of crimson roses, but as prickly as the thorns.

"So to burden us less, I want you to be a spoiled brat. W.h.i.n.e and cry. Throw your worst at me, and I'll turn it into a win," Elias reassured her, repeating the words he once told Adeline.

Adelia's lips trembled, her face growing sullen. She was beginning to pout and knew that, but couldn't control it. So, she buried her face into his shoulder and said nothing else.

Elias chuckled, patting her tiny back. "My youngest acts like the oldest, and my oldest acts like the youngest. My little Princess has her mother's face, but my expressions. My dear Prince has his father's face, but his mother's heart. What a twisted world."

Adeline laughed at his words, finding it all too ironic. She wondered why Elios had been so silent and glanced down to see he had fallen asleep on her shoulder, nestled in her arms. She rested her cheek on top of his head, hugging him dearly.

"You shouldn't allow any of their mouths to be so close to your neck," Elias muttered, his grip tightening on Adelia, hoping his own daughter's presence would quell his racing heart.

Elias didn't like it when either child hugged their mother like that, nestling their faces into the crook of her neck.

Elias was getting flashbacks of what happened when they were merely two years old. It was an event he'd never forget, even when centuries passed, and the occurrence was nothing but a painful memory.

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