Ann smoothed her hands over the folds of her gown for what must have been the tenth time, the restless motion betraying nerves she'd tried to keep hidden. Her reflection in the tall mirror showed her crown perfectly set, her posture upright, her expression calm.
"You're fidgeting," Maeve observed dryly from the quiet corner of her mind. "You only do that when you're worried. Or guilty. And unless you've secretly stolen my puppachino's while I was sleeping, I'd say it's the first of the two."
Ann rolled her eyes faintly. "I'm not worried, I'm… preparing."
"Preparing? You're about to face an entire room full of nobles for the first time, Ann. Not the Enclave's Elders...no neat little one-from-each-pack circle with rules and respect...but Lords and Ladies who've grown fat on politics and their own perfume. They'll sniff out nerves the way wolves scent blood."
Adam stepped into the chamber then, fastening the clasp of his jacket, his sharp gaze sweeping over her instantly.
"You're pale," he murmured, crossing to her side. His hand settled warmly over hers, stilling her restless movements. "You don't have to let them rattle you. They thrive on intimidation. Don't give them the satisfaction."
"I know," Ann admitted softly, leaning into his steady presence. "The Elders were easier. They argued, yes, but at least they respected the structure of the Enclave. They knew the weight of responsibility even if they did bend how they handled it sometimes. These nobles…" She exhaled slowly. "They'll question me not because they doubt the facts, but because they doubt me. I'm just pleased that I read through the reports that have been landing on my desk otherwise I would be walking into this completely unprepared."
His eyes flashed with the barest glint of gold, his wolf never far when her peace was unsettled.
"Let them doubt." he sneered, "I'll be beside you. They can challenge your words, but they won't survive challenging your right to speak them."
"Mm. He's not wrong," Maeve purred. "But maybe don't let him growl his way through the entire meeting. It's your voice they need to hear."
Ann smirked despite herself. "Don't tempt him. He already looks like he'd happily bite the first lord who sneers at me."
Adam's brow arched.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Ann said quickly, straightening her shoulders and setting her crown more firmly. "Let's get this over with."
The council chamber was stifling that morning. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, glinting on gilded fixtures and spilling across the polished marble floor, but the atmosphere inside was anything but warm. Ann took her seat in the high-backed chair reserved for her, Adam at her side, the weight of the crown and expectation pressing down as the nobles filed in with their complaints.
They didn't waste time with pleasantries.
"My Queen," Lord Veynar began, his tone clipped, "reports have reached us of yet another raid on the border towns. Entire settlements have been reduced to ash and families scattered. This cannot continue."
Lady Isolde folded her gloved hands on the table, voice velvet with a hint of acid.
"We understand measures are being taken, but the people are frightened. They whisper that your reign cannot protect them."
Her gaze lingered on Ann's belly a heartbeat too long.
"Oh look," Maeve snorted, "she's discovered where babies come from and thinks it's relevant to border security."
Adam's hand twitched where it rested on the tabletop, claws threatening to breach the wood. Ann laid her fingers lightly over his in an attempt to calm him.
"We are aware of the situation," she said evenly. "Our intelligence confirms Ely and his coven remnants are behind the raids. They strike without warning and with brutality, yes...but we are not idle. Patrols have already doubled, and we're reinforcing vulnerable sectors."
"Yes, you're taking steps towards correcting the issues," Veynar echoed sharply. "But steps mean little when mothers bury children and men come back maimed from a fight they never stood a chance of winning."
The chamber doors groaned open behind them as guards ushered in a small knot of villagers...survivors.
Ann's heart clenched. A woman clutched a bundle against her chest, a child who whimpered in his sleep. An older man leaned on a splinted branch for a crutch. Dirt and grief stained all of them.
"Tell them," Ann urged gently, gesturing to the woman. "Tell the council what happened."
The woman's eyes darted over the gilded faces before settling on Ann's.
"They came at night," she whispered. "No warning. Shadows across the fields. The sky… it burned." Tears welled. "They set fire to every home. Anyone who ran was cut down. They laughed while they did it."
Silence settled around the hall as the older man stepped forward, his voice gravelly and tired but steady.
"It wasn't just a raid. They wanted us to know that they can reach all of us at any time. They wanted us to carry that fear back here.They only let us live so that we could deliver that message. You aren't safe. You'll never be safe."
Maeve's hackles rose, a low, frustrated growl vibrating in Ann's bones.
"Let me out," she hissed. "Just for an hour. I'll show them who's safe."
"You're not shifting," Ann reminded her gently. "We're not risking the pups."
Ann rose, bracing her hands on the polished wood.
"You have been heard," she told the survivors firmly. "You will have shelter within the palace grounds. Food. Safety. A chance to rebuild close by once a site is prepared. I promise you."
The woman bowed her head, shaking with quiet sobs of relief. Murmurs rippled among the nobles...some approval, but more skepticism.
Ann turned to the table.
"Ely's brutality is meant to terrify and fracture us. It's a petty revenge aimed at us because of his sister's death or at the direction of his master," Ann spat, "We will not fracture because of this. We can expand the patrols again and all refugees will be settled and protected here, under my watchful eye. This kingdom will not turn its back on its people."
"Good, that was a strong reply," Maeve approved. "Now stare down the vulture in gloves."
But as Ann's words faded, the whispers began.
"She does speak well," someone muttered.
"Empty promises, nothing more. What good are words without action?"
"While she sits here in safety her belly grows at the same rate as the graves."
Ann's jaw tightened as her anger prickled under her skin and as if in reply, Adam's furious growl raced across the room.