*Isla*
“You’re going back to the front?” I am standing in my bedroom, staring at Maddox as he explains to me why he has to leave even though I’ve just been told that the war is over for now. The conflict has ended; the troops are surrendering. Why in the world does he have to be there to collect their proverbial swords?
“Yes, I have no choice, Isla. I’ve got to go meet with the other Alphas that fought alongside Alpha Geofrey and negotiate some terms with them. We can’t just shake hands and call it a day.”
He says these things to me like I am so stupid I don’t know how war works. Yes, of course, I get it. Negotiations have to be made. I imagine there will be some sort of heavy fines to the lands that fought against the crown. I bet there will even be some changes in leadership.
My question is… why does he have to be the one to talk through all of that? Doesn’t he have people who specialize in this sort of thing? Not to mention, his Beta is a pretty capable man if he would just give Seth the opportunity to think for himself instead of spoon-feeding him everything from what to say to when to cough!
“Isla, I’ll be back in a few days.” He sounds exasperated, like he can hardly stand to have to continue to reason with me.
“And what then?” I ask him. “The women arrive?”
He sighs, runs his hand through his hair, and looks at me like he doesn’t want to have this conversation. I don’t either. But I also want to know what I’m getting myself into.
“I haven’t decided exactly when they will be here yet,” he says with a shrug. “I do think it will likely be soon, but you needn’t worry about it. It’ll be like having guests in the castle. Nothing more.”
I do not see the need to go back over it with him this time, that I know he’s talking out of his ass. Of course, it will be different than just having guests in the castle. I’ve just had breakfast with a lovely Duchess who is married and has no reason to want to go after my man. Will it be like that when the other Alphas’ daughters show up?
Something tells me no.
He steps closer to me, puts his hands on either of my upper arms, and straightens me up to look at him. “I love you, Isla. I love you, I want to be with you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else.” He leans in and kisses me, and I kiss him back, but I have the overwhelming yearning to bite his lip, hard. I want to taste his blood and hear him cry out in pain. Is that wrong of me?
Probably.
So I don’t do it.
“Goodbye, Maddox,” I tell him when he releases me. “Try not to do anything that will prolong the war, all right? The sooner you get back, the sooner we can get this ridiculous consort business over with.”
“Yes, yes,” he says dismissively. Why do I bother to tell him my thoughts about anything? They are so easily disregarded.
He smiles at me softly before he makes his way to the door, and I walk backward until I feel the edge of the bed hit the back of my legs. Then, I sink down onto it and let out a deep sigh before tossing myself backward onto the mattress.
In times like this, I have to wonder… did Rebecca have these same issues? Did she know what to do with him? Did she feel like he didn’t listen to her, or did he actually heed her word?
After all, from what I understand, Luna Rebecca was a very different person than I am. She was much more assertive. She was highly social, and people loved her. Charismatic, beautiful, witty… charming. She was all of those things. I am not—most of the time.
I am trying harder. Now that I realize I am of royal bloodlines, I have a lot more respect for myself than when I thought that I was just the daughter of poor, hardworking parents who could never get ahead. Of course, I always had a great deal of respect for my parents, but I didn't think we held any particularly estimable social graces.
Now, I know differently, and it makes it slightly easier for me to remind myself and Maddox that I am not the same girl he brought into the castle initially—a throwaway girl from a pack Alpha who had never been respected by anyone in his life for good reason.
On days like this, though, where I’ve asked Maddox to consider my opinion, and he’s been dismissive, it makes it more difficult for me to think of myself as someone whose opinion counts.
Poppy is so quiet, I don’t realize she’s entered the room until she asks, “What are you thinking?”
I almost jump out of my skin.
“Uhm… I was thinking about Rebecca,” I answer her as she lays down next to me on the bed, staring up at the ceiling the same way I am.
“Really?” She’s obviously surprised. “What about her?”
“Well, I was wondering if our personalities were anything alike at all,” I admit.
“Oh.” Poppy is silent, and that’s always a red flag to me. Poppy is rarely silent.
“I take that as a no,” I say, still looking at the ceiling like I’m waiting for it to do something.
“Well, I mean, not really. Not that I even knew her. She died before I came to work at the castle. But a lot of the other maids were here when she was still alive, and they talk about her from time to time. They say things like, ‘Luna Rebecca was so funny when she…’ I don’t know, ‘made that dignitary wet himself by comparing his manhood to a floppy breadstick.’”
I don’t know if I should laugh or be shocked, so I just keep my eyes trained on the ceiling.
“You know, if you really want to understand what she was like, my understanding is that Lady Millie Gray was her best friend. She’s in the castle now having just come in from the far north because of the war. Her husband is a commander, so she came here to take refuge, like many of the other nobles. You could speak to her.”
I can finally turn my head now. I look at Poppy and try to figure out how to respond to that. “What makes you think she’d want to speak to me about her dead best friend?” I ask.
Poppy shrugs. “I don’t know. But she might want to. Some people like to speak about the dead. They think it keeps them alive… or some shit.”
Now, I can’t help but laugh because Poppy is so ridiculous. “You are so polished, Poppy,” I say to her.
Her shoulders touch her ears again before dropping. “I’m a maid. I don’t have to be all prim and proper like you, Princess.”
A sigh escapes me, and I look away. The ceiling is a safer place to look than Poppy’s face. “I am not a princess. Not again—not yet. I just have to figure out what to do about all of these women.”
“I would start with a delectable laxative in their dessert the first night they arrive,” Poppy says in the most serious tone possible. “Maybe if half of them shit all over themselves, they’ll give up and go home.”
We both burst out laughing, and I actually consider something of that nature for about two seconds but then dismiss it. Putting foreign substances in someone’s food is a Zabrina move, not something I would do.
“No, I won’t do that, but I do hope he’s serious when he says that he won’t be dating any of them. I just don’t see how their fathers will accept that. I think that they will phone home and complain this is all a sham, and if Maddox doesn’t choose any of them, well, then they’ll call foul for certain.”
“And if he chooses one of them—and that one of them is you—how can they complain? You’re an Alpha’s daughter, too, and your father did help with the war efforts in his way, so… they can’t say anything. When the other Alphas find out that you’re pregnant, they’ll settle down. They’ll know that the king has fulfilled his end of the deal.”
My hands automatically go to my stomach to protect my unborn child. I can’t wait until he is big enough for me to feel him moving around in there.
I can’t expect my child to be my savior, though. I have to find a way to show Maddox that he doesn’t need any of these other women. He doesn’t need anyone but me.
“Relax,” Poppy says, reaching over and grabbing my arm. “I’m furious at the king for doing this to you, so I don’t blame you for being mad at him. Hell, I kinda wanted to put some sort of itching powder in his boxers earlier.” I give her a stern look. “I didn’t!” she insists. “But anyway, I really don’t think you have to worry about it. It’s clear to everyone who sees the two of you that he loves you. He says he’s doing this because he has to for the war. So… he’s doing it. Let’s just assume it’ll turn out the way we want it to.”
I want to believe her, but I don’t even know what to say. My only thought is, “What if some woman walks in here and is everything he’s ever wanted, and he falls madly in love with her and forgets all about me?” It is my worst fear.
Poppy giggles and says, “That won’t happen. The man has only ever been in love twice in his entire life, and one of those times has been with you. So what are the chances that some random Alpha’s daughter is going to waltz in here and sweep him off his feet? Not very likely.”
She has a point. I try to focus on that. He loves me. He’s not looking for another woman. This is all just an exercise in insanity. The other woman he loved is long dead and not a threat.
“Unless some woman walks in here and looks and acts exactly like Rebecca, you’re fine,” Poppy continues. “And since that can’t happen, why worry about it?”
She’s right. I take a deep breath and manage a smile. Everything’s going to be fine. Rebecca isn’t going to walk in here after all because she’s dead.
So why do I still feel so nervous?