'Please don't say anything, please don't say anything, please don't say anything...' she plead silently as she squeezed her eyes shut. 'Why are you so mean to me, Goddess? What did I ever do to you?'
Despite her desperate prayers, she heard him approach on two feet cautiously - which surprised her. Myranda expected him to be brazen and confident, but instead it felt like he respected her space.
No, no - that couldn't be right. Royals weren't nice. Royals weren't respectful. She hated them - and he had just played a trick on her not a few hours ago (she knew that was a lie, but it helped push her own narrative, and so that's what she was going with in order to preserve her tender heart).
"...Myranda?" he wondered with uncertainty.
Goddess, his voice was so nice - it was deep, smooth, and fine like a high-grade silk. She wanted to hate it so much, but it rang so sweetly in her ears that it was impossible. Once more her stomach tightened and she felt the urge to jump out and kiss him like some love-sick pup.
'Say something, dumb ass - tell him to buzz off. Remember the plan - Stick. To. The. Plan!' She reminded herself as she tried to narrow her eyes, but her involuntary smile was making it hard.
"I'm so sorry about last night. I was stopped by my mother, and before I could find another way to reach you, I heard from my loyal soldiers that you had already gone home. Please forgive misunderstanding. I very much want to talk," he spoke so tenderly for someone with such a deep voice, and a strong accent that made her quiver. She also couldn't help but notice his speech wasn't as refined as all the others of the upper crust.
Most of the warrior and noble class had Metas' accent, and it was concerning to her that while theirs had never had an affect on her, the Princes' made her want to melt into the earth below her just so he could dig her back up.
"You don't want to talk. I understand," he followed up when she didn't reply.
She held her breath tight in her lungs.
'Tell him to take a hike - do it! Tell him to fuck off, or take a long walk off a short pier - you've got this. You can do this, Myranda' she cheered herself on until she summoned up the courage to finally 'tell him off'.
Too bad it came out as a garbled word-salad.
"Why don't you fuck a long hike off a short walk!" She shouted at first, only to immediately curse to herself with a sharp hiss, "ah, dammit..."
"What?" He asked in confusion - unsure of if he should have been offended or not.
"Sorry, I meant -- wait, no I'm not sorry! You're sorry for....uhg...just go somewhere else, okay? You've done enough. That was probably one of the more meaner things someone's done to me. I know your prissy little betting games you rich people play up there in your high tower. I'm soooooo sure your mom stopped you. What a fine excuse that is," Myranda finally let her anger spurt from her mouth like hot acid.
"Is that what you think?" Metas sounded wounded - which made Myranda feel absolutely terrible.
She didn't really want to hurt him - but she didn't want to be hurt, either.
"I... don't know..." she replied honestly. Then followed up hotly, "It's just what I've heard - not just what I think. Lots of those who serve in the palace come home from work and speak about little bets you make about trying to fuck all the females you can, or setting up elaborate plots to embarrass them for entertainment."
"You think quiet lowly of me, don't you?" He asked and came closer towards her, but stopped just in front of the same wide tree she was leaning against, and rested himself upon the opposite side.
"I mean - it's not just you to be fair, it's that entire upper class. You all treat the rest of us like shit - and it's stupid that I can't live with my siblings because of who my clan is - and your kind find me ugly, as your General let me know last night," Myranda stopped abruptly so that she could hide the fact that the insult from the previous night truly had hurt her. She was too proud to be weak in front of her 'enemy'.
"I agree with you, Myranda. I don't like how kingdom is run. My father is in love with power, and my mother is in love with status. I want to challenge old dog, but I also think 'why'. What could I accomplish alone?" He mused out loud as though she were the wind, and not for advice from her – which she really liked.
"You'd be the King, doesn't that make you in charge? You can write all the rules you want, you know," she reminded him as though she knew exactly what his life was like.
"You don't understand..." he started with a tired, sad voice. "There are so many who enjoy my parent's laws. They think things are fine as is, and even if I took the throne - I'd be going in with nothing but few friends and soldiers. I'd need someone I could trust."
"You have no one to trust, really?" She asked with a dying doubt, but still tried to keep her armor up all the same.
"Not kind of trust I need.... Well, not until I met you yesterday," he admitted.
Her heart skipped. Why did he have to say such sweet things? Didn't he know it made it harder for her to rebuke him? Was that is plan? She hated how much his presence comforted her, and how greatly she wanted to go to the other side to touch his hand again - just his hand would be enough for a while. Possibly forever, she thought.
"You don't mean that. You don't even know me, just like I don't know you - and I'm sure if we did get to know one another, we would hate each other anyway," Myranda replied acridly, ever determined to be 'right' no matter how much evidence proved her wrong.
"I do mean that. You're are most beautiful female I've ever met. Your soul is strong, and your eyes are bright with fire. You're dangerous - and I like that a lot. I've always wanted someone like you - a gentle woman for me, but terrifying warrior for the rest of the world. If you let me prove my words to you, I won't disappoint," his words were beautiful for someone whose size intimidated even the largest wolf in the kingdom.
Myranda's cheeks lit up like hot coal, and her heart thumped hard against her chest. As much as she wanted to deny it, his words sounded so true - and she wanted to believe him.
"What if I disappoint you?" She returned, now just about out of excuses to ruin this encounter.
" That would be impossible. Please just run with me for the morning, and after that - you can tell me to, what was it? Fuck a long hike off a long walk? I'll walk through fire if that's what you want, but I must finish rounds in forest either way. If you join me just once, I'll never ask for your company again," Metas promised, and tried to peek around the corner to get a better look at his mate.
Myranda hesitated, but eventually gave in - "Alright. One run, and then you leave me alone."
"If that is what you want, then I'll take what I can get - one morning with you would satisfy me for a lifetime," he promised with truth and kindness.
She hated that she believed him. The young wolf had always seen herself as someone who didn't fall for this kind of trickery - but for once these sort of words felt real, and honest - and she wanted it to be a truth she lived in.
"Very well, your highness. Shall we run, then?" She gave in to his request - but with heat in her words that just screamed for him to challenge her preconceived notions.
"I would like that more than anything else," He answered smoothly and finally came around the other side of the tree so that he could see her in all of her beauty.
Not even Myranda could deny that the delight and awe on his face was as real and warm as the sunshine that started to peek through the treetops.