He started like he'd been kicked.
"N-no, Majesty. We were only..."
"Observing?" she offered. "How brave."
Color flooded his face.
She turned to the woman with the crate.
"Do you need a hand?"
The woman huffed a humorless laugh.
"Your majesty, I need ten. But I'll settle for you telling them to piss off."
Ann looked at the boy again.
"Piss off."
He left at speed without any arguments, and so did the men with him. Running a little too quickly for it to be dignified.
The woman shifted the crate onto a stack and straightened, rolling her shoulders.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Ann didn't smile. "You don't rise to it so that helps keep my job easier."
The woman's mouth twitched.
"If I rise to it, they get to feel justified. I'd rather make them bored of what passes as sport to them..."
"That's a good strategy," Ann said, meaning it.
On her way back across the yard, a noblewoman peeled from the shade like a ghost with a purse.
"Majesty, if I may...these people, these wolves… you're certain it's wise? Imagine if one of them snapped. You'd never forgive yourself."
Ann stopped.
"You're worried about forgiveness?"
The woman faltered. "Well...yes, in a way. Forgiveness for bringing a risk among us."
Ann's smile had no warmth.
"If you're so concerned, feel free to relocate to your country estate. You can oversee your vineyards from a comfortable distance while other people bleed for you."
The woman made a small noise like a bird hitting glass and retreated.
You're on a roll, Maeve purred. One more and we get bingo.
By evening, Ann's jaw hurt. Her cheeks did, too, from holding her face in the expression that said I am not tired and I am not listening and I could end you but won't because I'm polite.
Back in the small lounge, she shut the door and leaned her head against the cool wood for a second. Just a second.
Coral slipped in a heartbeat later, holding a single sheet.
"Draft is ready, your Highness. 'Code of Conduct for Palace Grounds and Adjacent Settlements.' Penalties scaled. Clear line about harassment, incitement, slander during wartime conditions etc etc."
Ann took it, skimmed it and nodded.
"Perfect. Issue it. Effective immediately."
"And the statement about Brad?" Coral asked carefully.
Ann's mouth flattened. "Short. Factual. 'Alpha Brad has returned to his pack at my request to bolster border security. All external liaisons report through Coral of Logistics. Any inquiries about his presence or absence are a waste of breath while we build a portal to bring our people home.'"
Coral grinned despite herself. "Adding the last line word for word."
"Do," Ann said.
When Coral left, the room felt too big. The letter from Brad sat where she'd left it, a thin accusation. She folded it again, slower this time, and tucked it away.
Adam would have made today easy. He would have prowled through the halls and stared the worst offenders silent. He would have told her to let him handle it and she would have argued and then let him do exactly that, because sometimes it was a relief to be handled.
He wasn't here.
She was.
Ann straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and stood there a minute longer just to prove to herself she still could.
If they wanted to call her reckless, dangerous, foolish, compromised...let them. She would not bend.
Not to gossip. Not to nobles. Not to fucking shadows.
And not even to the ghosts of loyalty that never quite let her go.
Maeve's voice drifted in, softer for once.
You're doing it, you know. Holding the line. It's ugly and thankless and they'll never say thank you, but you're doing it well.
Ann huffed a breath that wasn't quite a laugh. "I know."
Good, Maeve said. Now drink some water, sign the edict, and sleep for four minutes before someone knocks to tell you a tent fell over.
"Bossy," Ann murmured.
Learned from the best.
Ann signed the edict. Drank the water. Didn't sleep. But when the knock came, she was already moving.
Alone, yes.
But unbending.
The sound reached her first.
Not drums, not horns...boots. Heavy and synchronized, eating the distance like thunder across the earth.
Ann stood at the top of the palace steps, cloak drawn close against the wind, Coral at her shoulder, Eva a few steps behind. Guards shifted uneasily at either side of the gates, their wolves restless beneath their skin.
Then the Dark Moon Pack marched in.
A column of black and steel, their formation tight, their movements sharp. Every wolf in their ranks walked with shoulders squared and heads lifted, discipline carved into every step. Their eyes were hard, their wolves coiled close enough to shimmer beneath the skin.
Adam walked at their front.
His presence hit like a strike across the face, his aura rolling out of him with every step, wolf prowling in his eyes, hair pulled back harshly, jaw tight. His boots were caked with road dust but he walked like he owned the stones beneath him.
The change in the atmosphere was almost immediately noticeable and the refugees scattered around the outer yards froze mid-task, buckets half-lifted, tools stilled. Their chaos...the sprawl of tents, children darting between lines, fires smoldering...looked messier than ever with the Dark Moon's precision cutting through it like a blade.
"Gods," Coral muttered under her breath. "They look like they could chew through the palace walls."
"They could," Eva said flatly.
Ann swallowed down something hot in her chest...relief and dread tangled so tight she couldn't separate them.
Adam's gaze locked on her the instant he cleared the gates. The weight of it made her straighten before she'd even thought to move.
He mounted the steps in three strides, stopped just short of touching her. For a heartbeat, the whole world narrowed to the line of his shoulders, the heat rolling off him and the question burning in his eyes.
"You're back," Ann managed. Her voice sounded steadier than she felt.
"Always," Adam said, low and rough.
Always, Maeve mocked gently. Except for the days he wasn't, when Brad was. Don't say it. Don't you dare say it.
Ann held her ground, and forced a small nod.
Behind Adam, the Dark Moon soldiers fanned across the yard, falling into loose ranks. Refugees whispered furiously, pulling children closer, scowling at the display of strength.
"Too close," one man hissed.
"They'll take over," another muttered.
"First strays, now this? We'll be devoured before winter."
The Dark Moon ignored them, their eyes fixed forward, jaws locked, waiting only for Adam's word.