Helena steps out and shuts the door, squared up for the gauntlet ahead. I fall in half a step behind as we move as a unit.
My gaze never stops scanning as we make our way toward Helena’s father’s study. The house is awake, but in a careful way. The staff is all in their assigned places, voices kept to a murmur. Helena’s younger siblings are already at lessons, which means it’s just the two of us in the echoing halls. I can almost hear her heartbeat, a little faster than baseline, but I know better than to mention it.
To indicate protectiveness over Helena is one thing.
To speak of the scent bond she tries to forget exists is entirely another.
We reach the study. I open the door for her, and she crosses the threshold like she were walking onto a stage. I follow, keeping to the line of shadow by the wall.
Her father, Lord Starling, is at his desk, wearing a suit so crisp, it might have been pressed onto him. The desk itself is a slab of dark wood, surface perfectly ordered with a single fountain pen, an embossed notebook, and a tablet displaying the day’s news feeds. He’s already scrolling through something when we enter.
He doesn’t look up. “Sit.” He gestures to the leather chair opposite.
Helena hesitates. Is she going to turn and leave? Then she sits, hands folded in her lap, back impossibly straight.
I remain standing along the wall by the door. My job is to be present but not intrusive, visible but not distracting. I focus on the pattern of the rug and the way the sunlight through the window casts geometric shapes across the study’s sharp angles.
Her father finally glances up. “You’re aware that your Selection Day is less than three months out.”
She gives him a slight nod, perfectly poised despite the perfectlynotpoised outfit her father is currently deciding to ignore. “Yes.”
“The preparations will be extensive,” he continues. “It’s not only a matter of which packs will register interest, but how we position you to the public and to the Council. Image, narrative, and timing. I expect you to understand that every move from here on will be scrutinized.”
She nods, but I can tell her attention is elsewhere. Her gaze flicks to the window, then back, restless. I can guess what she’s thinking:the press cycle has already started, and the vultures are circling.
“I’ve had three requests from royal houses already,” her father says, pressing his thumb to the tablet. “Not local society,but actual houses with influence. It’s imperative that we present you as a model omega: intelligent, disciplined, and most importantly, adaptable.”
Helena’s jaw tightens. “Of course.”
Her father leans forward and drops his voice. “I know this isn’t what you’d have chosen, but you are a Starling. We don’t get to opt out.”
At this, Helena raises her chin. “Ranier did. For several years, actually.”
I swallow the laugh threatening to bubble out of my mouth. Helena’s correct, but the comment is out of place with the way her father is today. But she knows her father best.
He pins her with a glare. “And Ranier finally stepped up. I pray you won’t give the family name quite the same beating.”
She smiles, but there’s nothing sweet behind it. “Of course not, Father.”
I can see the fight in her, the way she wants to push back, but years of finishing school and family training have drilled the response out of her.
“Good.” He returns to his notes, already dismissing her. “There will be press releases later this week. Then you’ll have a luncheon with the Council’s PR consultant. I want you ready for whatever questions they ask.”
She’s silent for a moment before asking, “May I see the statements before they go out?”
Her father blinks, his eyes wide. “Of course you may. I wasn’t aware you’d like to. I’ll have them sent to your account.”
“Thank you.”
I’m quite sure that only her father thinks she actually means that.
He glances at me for the first time. “Mr. Hawke, you’ll accompany Helena at all public functions. No exceptions.”
“Yes, sir.” I don’t let my expression change. I go wherever Helena needs me.
“Security is your top priority,” he says curtly. “We can’t have a repeat of last spring’s incident.”
I know exactly what he means. Last spring, Helena’s sister-in-law, Emery, was nearly torn apart by the press when she went off-script at a charity event. The family managed to spin it as a brave moment of authenticity, but the fallout in the tabloids lasted weeks. The Starling name barely survived the drama. I’m under no illusions. If Helena stumbles, it could mean disaster.
