By morning, the King was ready to leave.
His visit had lasted less than a day, but the shadow it cast felt like a season. The ceremonial hall had returned to silence, the petals swept away, the music packed up, and the celebration that had nearly bloomed remained caught—mid-breath, mid-toast, mid-dream.
The King stood in the courtyard beside his black carriage, his ministers gathered behind him in an orderly cluster. The air was thick with tension, the kind that couldn’t be dispelled with bows and farewells.
Celine stood beside Leon, back straight, expression calm—but her wolf paced inside her. Something told her this was not the end of anything.
“I appreciate your hospitality,” the King said, his voice smooth and unreadable. “And the ceremony was lovely—if slightly interrupted.”
Leon gave a nod, not bothering to hide the cold edge in his gaze. “We’re honored by your presence.”
There was no warmth between them.
Just old power.
And newer, rising power.
Celine remained quiet, watching him closely, trying to decipher the weight behind every word.
“Crimson Fang has always served the Crown,” the King continued. “And I expect that loyalty to remain… consistent.”
Leon’s jaw flexed. “Of course.”
Then, slowly, the King turned his gaze to Celine.
His expression softened—but only on the surface. Something sharper gleamed beneath his words as he took a single step toward her.
“You carry something rare,” he said. “Something most will never see. It’s no surprise the world wants to see it for themselves.”
Celine stood her ground. “What if I choose not to be seen?”
His smile curved—not cruel, but chilling in its certainty. “Then I’ll send an invitation. And if that doesn’t work… a summons. And if that doesn’t work…”
He paused, the silence long enough to raise every heartbeat in the room.
“…well. You wouldn’t want to see what disobedience looks like in the Capital.”
Leon shifted, a subtle move—but every soldier in the courtyard noticed. Celine felt the ripple in him, the spike of restrained fury beneath his skin.
Before he could speak, she touched his arm gently, grounding him.
The King’s eyes flicked to her fingers, then back to her face. “You’re clever,” he said softly. “That will serve you well. When we meet again.”