The door clicks softly behind me as I step out of the room, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
It feels like a small victory to finally leave his space in one piece. The air in there is thick, suffocating, and undeniably charged—though I refuse to dwell on the reason why.
My duties in the prince's quarters are done, and I tell myself I won't think about him for the rest of the day.
The east wing is quieter than the rest of the pack house, but as I move further away from its walls, the sound of activity grows louder.
I glance around, noticing the steady stream of movement. Omegas rush by, their arms laden with trays, linens, and various supplies.
A few court members I rarely see linger in the corridors, their voices a hushed mix of excitement and urgency.
The atmosphere hums with an energy I can't quite place, and my curiosity starts to stir.
I head to the kitchen, suddenly feeling hungry and by the time I step through the threshold, the buzz is intensified. The scent of spices, roasted meats, and freshly baked bread wafts through the air.
It's livelier than usual, the staff moving at a frantic pace. The counters are overflowing with platters, and more dishes are being prepared than I've seen since arriving here.
I spot Priscilla near the center of the chaos, barking out orders as if she were the commander of a small army.
She notices me and waves me over, but it takes a moment for me to weave through the flurry of bodies to reach her.
"What's going on?" I ask, sidestepping a younger omega carrying a stack of plates that looks like it might topple at any second.
"You haven't heard?" she replies, barely sparing me a glance as she kneads dough with practiced precision. "The king and queen are back. Everyone has to be on their toes."
That gets my attention. "They're back? I thought they weren't supposed to return for another week."
She shrugs, her hands never slowing. "Guess they had an early flight. They arrived this morning with the Prince."
Ah yes...with him.
I pause, trying to process the information. The king and queen. I've never seen them in person—only heard about them in passing.
The only member of the royal family I've encountered is their son, and he's more than enough to handle on his own.
Now, the thought of all three of them under one roof feels... overwhelming.
I grab an apple from a nearby basket, feeling my appetite go down the drain. "Thanks for the heads-up," I say, offering her a small smile before retreating from the bustling kitchen.
As I navigate the hallways, taking a bite of the apple, I notice the energy hasn't died down. The chatter grows louder in certain pockets, and everyone seems to be moving with purpose.
I round a corner, distracted by my thoughts of the royal family and the chaos their presence brings, when I collide with something—or someone.
The impact jolts the apple from my hand, and it hits the floor with a soft thud. I barely have time to register what's happened before a sharp voice cuts through the air.
"Watch where you're going."
I look up, startled, to see a lady standing before me. She's tall and beautiful, with brown hair that cascades down her slender frame seductively.
She has an air of superiority that's impossible to ignore. Her gaze is icy, her brown eyes narrowing as she takes me in, her lips curling into a sneer.
"I—I'm sorry," I stammer, bending down to pick up the apple.
Before I can reach it, her foot moves, kicking it further down the hall.
"Clumsy and useless," she mutters, brushing past me as though I'm nothing more than an inconvenience.
I stay crouched for a moment, the sting of her words settling in. She's unfamiliar, but her demeanor reminds me of too many others from my past—sharp tongues, cruel smiles, and a constant need to remind me of my place.
I take a deep breath, forcing the memories back. This isn't Moonhaven. I'm not that scared girl anymore.
Standing, I straighten my spine and walk over to the discarded apple. I pick it up, glancing at its bruised skin, and toss it into a nearby bin.
Before I can take another step, a voice calls out to me.
"Don't let her get to you."
I turn to see Ethan approaching. He doesn't seem all that high again, probably because of what happened at the council meeting after the rogues attacked.
"Her?"
He stops a few steps away, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. "The one who just stormed off like she owns the place. Eden."
The name doesn't ring a bell, and I shake my head.
"She's hardly around here. She's been abroad, studying. She returned a few days ago," he explains, leaning slightly against the wall. "Her father's the highest-ranking member on the council. She's... entitled, to say the least. Thinks the world revolves around her."
I nod slowly, my earlier frustration fading into resignation. "She certainly acts like it."
"She's also the most likely candidate to be chosen as the prince's mate," he adds, his tone neutral, though the words hit me harder than they should.
My chest tightens at the thought, a pang of something sharp and unwelcome coursing through me.
Of course, she's the perfect match for him. She's beautiful, confident, most likely powerful...everything I'm not.
I force a smile, pushing the ache down deep where it can't be seen. "Sounds like they'd make a good pair," I say lightly, though my voice betrays none of the turmoil beneath the surface.
He studies me for a moment, as if sensing the shift in my mood, but he doesn't press.
Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a single pink rose, its petals soft and delicate.
"I know you're going to see Cassidy," he says, holding it out to me. "Can you give this to her for me?"
I blink, surprised by the gesture. Taking the flower, I nod. "Oh...of course."
He offers me a small smile, the kind that's warm and genuine, before walking off down the hall.
I stand there for a moment, the rose resting gently in my hand. Its faint, sweet fragrance fills the air, and I can't help but smile to myself.
She'll be happy to receive it—I'm certain of that. Her feelings are as clear as his, and seeing them both so wrapped up in each other is... comforting, in a way.
I turn and make my way toward her room, making it a mental note to press her for the details of what's been going on between them for the past few days.