Unfortunately, the rumors didn't fade with Brad's departure.
If anything, they multiplied. Like weeds, or rats.
By the time Ann had finished her morning rounds across the palace grounds, she could hear them hissing from every corner. Courtiers leaning too close to one another, servants whispering with wide eyes, even a few of the younger nobles bold enough to snicker openly as she passed.
"…too convenient, isn't it? Brad leaves the very moment people notice him shadowing her again…"
"…he didn't leave. He was sent away. Embarrassment, that's what it was."
"…or he left because she begged him to stay and he refused. Either way, it stinks of scandal…"
"…and now she collects Lycans like strays, as though a kennel will win a war…"
Ann didn't slow her stride. She didn't look at them. But her ears caught every syllable, and Maeve strained under her skin with the urge to bare teeth.
Lovely, Maeve muttered darkly. You're not just Queen of Wolves anymore...you're Queen of Whispers. Maybe we should get that printed on a banner, save them the effort of gossiping.
Ann forced her chin higher, her hands clasped neatly behind her back as if their bile couldn't touch her.
But goddess, it did.
The palace gardens...once a place she could at least breathe...were no safer. Two nobles, velvet sleeves brushing as they walked the gravel path, pitched their voices just low enough to seem discreet, but not so low that she couldn't hear.
"…she welcomes Lycans into the palace walls? After what they've done? After what their King ordered?"
"…reckless, dangerous. Borderline treasonous. She's endangering every soul here."
"…it's obvious she's blinded. If not by Brad, then by that mutt Greyson. Wolves always circle back to their own."
Ann's jaw clenched. She turned deliberately toward them.
"Enjoying your walk?" she asked, voice so smooth it made both men jump.
They fumbled bows, stammering apologies.
"Then I suggest you continue it," she said, gaze slicing through them like a blade,. "Quietly."
They scuttled away like beetles as she glared after them furiously.
Coral, trailing just behind with her ever-present clipboard, let out a low whistle.
"Majesty, that was almost merciful. I thought you'd skin them alive."
Ann muttered, "Don't tempt me."
They cut through the east cloister to avoid the terrace...and walked straight into another cluster of lords pretending to admire a fountain. The word "Brad" dropped like a pebble and rippled out; three men looked guilty in unison, one woman didn't bother looking guilty at all.
"…if she's bedding the past while harboring the future..."
"…it's a question of judgment, not private life..."
"…the wolves she's brought inside will eat us alive before the Lycan King even tries..."
Ann didn't pause. She didn't need to. The guards' presence and Coral's flat stare carried enough warning. Still, she caught the threads.
"They'll keep going until you cut out their tongues," Maeve said sweetly. "Just a suggestion."
By the time she reached the entrance hall, her patience was hanging on by a thread. The nobles had gathered there too...clustered like overdressed carrion birds. Their whispers cut sharper, carrying just enough for her to catch.
"…her judgment compromised…"
"…entanglements unbecoming of a Queen…"
"…strays and monsters at her gates, what kingdom could stand under such weight…"
Lady Maren, of course, stood at the center of them, pearls glinting at her throat. Her voice, as always, carried just enough honey to coat the venom.
"Majesty," she said, gliding forward as if she hadn't been leading the whispers a heartbeat ago. "We all feel the strain of this war. But one cannot help but notice… appearances. Brad's sudden absence. The influx of Lycans. Two fires at once, some might say."
Ann's smile was thin, dangerous. "Careful, Lady Maren. Some fires burn their keepers."
Maren's lashes flickered. Just for a second. But it was enough.
The gallery rustled with the sound of nobles shifting eagerly, waiting for blood.
Ann didn't give it to them. She swept past, her cloak flaring at her heels, Coral and Eva at her side.
They made it three corridors before the next snare. Lord Darron peeled from a doorway like he'd been waiting there all morning for his moment.
"Majesty," he purred, "forgive my boldness, but we're concerned. A Queen's… companions reflect on her rule. Brad's… history aside, his presence...and his absence...raise questions. And the wolves you've welcomed...how can we be sure you are not surrounding yourself with danger disguised as devotion?"
"Boldness is one word," Ann said evenly. "Cowardice and prejudice wrapped in etiquette is another."
His smile faltered. "I only mean..."
"You mean to tell me what to fear," she said, tilting her head. "Come. If you want to talk, we'll do it without an audience."
Coral's brows rose. Eva's mouth twitched. Darron hesitated, then followed, pride stronger than sense.
Ann led them into a small reading room...bright windows, low couches, a tea service someone had abandoned. She didn't sit. Neither did he.
"Here's what you're going to do," she said, soft enough to make him lean in. "You're going to say what you came to say without whispering it through the halls first."
Color rose along his collar. "Very well. Brad's proximity...people talk. Your… fondness for wolves, Lycans…half-bloods...people talk. Appearances can become truths if you let them."
"Then perhaps," Ann said, "they should try telling the truth to my face for once. Brad is not my companion. He is an alliance I will use or not use based on survival. He left because his pack needed him. And the wolves I've accepted are survivors who chose this banner. My banner. If you call them monsters, you call me one too."