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“She’s a lovely woman,” Rona said. “We embroidered together and enjoyed some striking conversation. She’s even more impressive in person. I was quite honored to be in her presence, and she even invited me to join her for tea again tomorrow.”
Rona looked inordinately pleased with herself as she talked up Duchess Alana more—her embroidery skills, her fine tea sets, her knowledge of Frasian civic matters. “The duchess seems to think the Dawnguard pack needs to develop newer training techniques—”
“Speaking of techniques,” Wynona interrupted with a cool glare, “Your Highness, how are the affairs of the Nightfall military?”
The king hummed thoughtfully. I realized Wynona was the first contestant to ask the king a question. And it seemed like she’d asked the right one, from the way the king began to speak casually about his plans for developing the Nightfall troops. Lady Glennis watched him carefully as he did so, as if waiting for him to let some confidential information slip. But the king was a skilled conversationalist himself—he seemed to be discussing the intricacies of the military without actually saying anything of detail. It was hard to focus on. These were matters I had no hand in within the court of Daybreak. I couldn’t stop glancing between the king and Lady Glennis, my hands folded in my lap.
I had to get the king alone. I had to apologize. I hated not knowing where I stood with him. I wanted to be on solid ground again—navigating the court in a way I understood, instead of having to see the king’s eyes gleam whenever he glanced my way.
Breakfast finally ended and the king stood and took his leave briskly. Before Lady Glennis could say anything to stop me, I stood and hurried to follow him, ignoring the gasps of shock in my wake.
The door to the solarium swung closed behind me. The king strode down the hallway, his bare feet silent on the cold floor, and his cloak sweeping long and luxurious, lined with the dark fur the same color I imagined his wolf’s pelt to be. I shook myself internally—why was I imagining his wolf at all?
“Excuse me,” I said as I hurried after him. “Excuse me, Your Highness?”
The king stopped in the middle of the corridor. He turned around and watched me almost curiously, that maddening smirk playing once again on his lips. He said nothing. He just stood there.
I swallowed around the tightness in my throat. Internally, my wolf whined in anxiety—we had to make this right.
“Your Highness,” I said, “I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was unbecoming of me as Lady of the Court to speak to anyone that way, much less the King of Frasia.”
His smirk only grew, revealing his sharp canines.
“I hope to proceed through the Choice as a better representative—oh!”
The king stalked forward so quickly I hardly saw him move. He moved so quietly, graceful in a way that belied his stature. He stood so close to me he nearly filled my field of vision. I could almost smell the sweat on his skin. Or maybe I was imagining that. My mind told me to reel back, but my wolf told me to step closer. I stood my ground, trying to meet his gaze steadily as he loomed over me.
“What did you think was going to happen, little wolf?” he asked in a voice so low it vibrated through my bones.
“I—” Suddenly, I struggled to find my words. This was not how I expected this interaction to go. “I hoped you wouldn’t be too angry with me. For my disrespect.”
The king laughed, low in his chest, almost like a growl. “You worried I would be angry.” He said this like the idea amused him. Then he reached forward and took a loose lock of my hair between his fingers and smoothed his thumb over it. His eyes flashed briefly golden, and my wolf whined internally.
“If I were angry with you,” he said, “you would not be standing here in my corridors right now.”
My heart pounded hard in my chest. My wolf whined again as my skin prickled with the urge to shift and show submission. Not because he was the King of Frasia—but because his wolf felt so powerful. Even standing here in front of me as a human, his power was nearly tangible, heady in the air around me. And it felt strangely good. I had to focus to resist my wolf’s desire to shift. I’d never felt her demand like this, never in my life. The king seemed to notice it, too, if the golden gleam in his eyes was anything to go by.
“If I was angry,” the king said, “your court would be destroyed by now. There would be nothing left of the Daybreak pack—nor your father as their leader. Your wolves would be sworn fealty to Nightfall.”
I swallowed hard again. He was right. I’d been so worried that he would punish me that I hadn’t considered what he might do to my pack. He could’ve sent wolves to Daybreak in the night, for all I knew. He was the Bloody King. I couldn’t find any words to respond to him. It didn’t feel like a threat—it felt like a simple statement of fact.
“You have not earned my anger yet, wolf,” he said. “I trust you enjoyed the map.”
The whiplash made my head spin. “I—yes, Your Highness, I enjoyed studying it greatly.”
“Good,” he said. “I expect you to make the most of your time here in Efra.”
He released the lock of hair between his fingers, then took a step back. Suddenly, I missed the closeness. This conversation made me feel like I understood him even less.
“You mean,” I said, before I could stop myself, “you aren’t sending me home?”
“Lady Reyna,” he said with a smile, “the competition hasn’t even begun. And besides…” He took a step backward and threw his arms wide, making his cloak splay out. “…Why would I do that when you’re the most interesting thing here?”
His smirk turned to a grin, and he raised his eyebrows at me briefly, almost playfully, before he turned and strode away down the hall. He left me dumbfounded, standing in the hallway like my shoes were nailed into the floor.
“The most interesting thing here.” I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a threat.
6
