21

Livia POV

It was past seven o’clock in the evening, and my stomach was rumbling, albeit violently. After the horrific, inedible dinner Maris had served earlier, I was wandering the upper hallway in a desperate bid to sneak into the kitchen and search for snacks or at least some form of excitement to engage my wandering mind.

Before I could even make it to the kitchen stairs, the front doors swung open downstairs. Alpha Tarian strode in, looking exhausted, I could tell from the cold, and utterly irritated look on his face that today was not so good at work.

But then I would not easily write off the fact that I may be wrong as he is always grumpy.

He was always angry with the world, so I did not then and certainly did not even want to start caring now. He caught sight of me near the balcony railing and stopped, his eyes sweeping over me with clear impatience.

“Go to your room and pack your bags,” Tarian called up, his deep voice carrying an annoying, commanding edge. “We are leaving for Geneva.”

I blinked, taking a step back in sheer confusion. “Geneva? As in Switzerland? Right now?!”

“Yes, right now,” he gritted out, unbuttoning his tailored suit jacket as he walked toward his private study. “It’s a business trip, but my mother insisted you tag along to maintain public appearances. We are newly married, and the media is already watching every move we make.”

“This is so sudden!” I protested, following him a few steps down the corridor. “How much time do I even have to get ready?”

Tarian checked his silver wristwatch, not even bothering to look up at me. “You have less than thirty minutes to pack. Be downstairs by seven-thirty, or we leave without your luggage. If it were up to me, you would be staying right here.”

I crossed my arms, a smirk slipping onto my face before I could stop it. “Well, darling husband, I wouldn’t mind going to Geneva completely naked.”

Tarian stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly, glaring down at me with a look so cold it could freeze boiling water. “Now is not the time for your stupid, vulgar jokes. I would be far better off traveling without you, but since we have a godforsaken reputation to protect, you will behave yourself. Go. Pack.”

I bit my lips, sucking it in.

“Right,” I muttered under my breath, turning on my heel. “After all, this will be my very first official public appearance since the disaster of a marriage.”

I bolted into my room and slammed the doors shut, locking them firmly behind me. I dragged my suitcase from under the bed and threw open the walk-in closet doors, only for a wave of pure anger to wash over me all over again when I realized those clothes belonged to those racks and not in my box.

“There is no absolute way I am traveling to Europe looking like a nineteenth-century cushion,” I whispered to myself, my blood boiling with frustration.

Certainly, Alpha Tarian should have enough money to buy me modern clothes, but I cant ask him for money because little miss goody two shoes, Livyana, would rather die in silence to protect her pride than ask for money.

I sprinted to the vanity, grabbed a pair of scissors from Livyana’s sewing kit, she had given it to me even though I knew I would not be using it, and hauled five of the most expensive silk and velvet gowns onto the bed. Working at lightning speed, I cut off the ridiculous puffed sleeves, sliced open a sharp thigh-high slit on a deep emerald gown, and completely snatched the waistline of a cream silk dress.

Using quick, desperate stitches, I altered them into some modern breathtaking masterpieces. Satisfied with my emergency surgery, I lifted the false bottom lining of my suitcase, laid the altered dresses flat underneath, and stacked the boring, approved clothes right on top.

Then a knock sounded at my door.

" Livyana?” Queen Mother Raychel’s voice echoed from the hallway. “May I come in?”

I instantly tossed the shears into a drawer, smoothed down my hair, and unlocked the door, plastering Livyana’s signature soft, submissive smile on my face.

“Yes, Queen Mother,” I purred softly, stepping back to let her in.

Maris stood right behind her, holding a small travel bag with a smug look on her puffyface.

“My dear,” the Queen Mother began warmly, taking my hands, “since this trip was organized so abruptly, I have instructed Maris to accompany you to Geneva as your personal chaperone and handmaid. She knows our family traditions and will ensure you are well taken care of.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. Maris?! On this trip?! Hell no!

I quickly summoned every ounce of Livyana’s gentle, persuasive charm, looking up at the Queen Mother with wide, innocent eyes.

“Oh, Queen Mother, that is so unbelievably thoughtful of you!” I began, dropping my voice into a sweet, apologetic murmur. “But... but I really don’t think it would be fair to take Maris away from the villa. The mansion is so vast, and she is the heart of this entire household. Who will manage the staff, oversee the daily timetables, and keep everything running flawlessly for you while we are away?”

Maris stiffened, her jaw tightening as she looked at me but I acted like I did not notice.

“Maris is far too essential here to be dragged across the world,” I continued smoothly, resting a hand on my chest. “Instead, why don’t I take little Amelia with me? She is quiet, quick on her feet”

The Queen Mother paused, considering my words for a brief second before smiling brightly. “You know... you are absolutely right, Livyana. That is very considerate of you. Maris, stay behind and manage the villa. Send Amelia up immediately.”

I glanced at Maris as the Queen Mother turned to leave. The head housekeeper’s face was contorted in a dark, and quiet kind of rage, her eyes practically shooting daggers at me. I offered her a tiny, victorious nod, completely unbothered by her bad energy. I did not want her miserable aura ruining my trip to Switzerland.

A few minutes later, Amelia hurried into the room, her eyes wide with shock and excitement.

“Luna!” Amelia gasped out, clutching her hands to her heart. “Is... is it true? Am I really coming with you to Geneva?!”

“Yes, Amelia,” I laughed under my breath, zipping up my main suitcase. “Get your bags ready. You’re coming with me.”

Amelia dropped into a quick bow, tears of gratitude brimming in her eyes. “Thank you so much, Luna! Thank you for choosing me!”

“Don’t thank me,” I smiled, tossing her a light jacket. “You’ve proven yourself to not only be extremely useful, but you’re actually good company. I need someone normal around me on this trip.”

“I won’t let you down, Luna! I swear it!” she beamed, grabbing the handles of my heavy luggage.

Together, we walked out of the suite and headed toward the grand central staircase.

Tarian stood at the foot of the master staircase, his jaw clenched so tightly a nerve throbbed violently in his cheek as his mother patted his arm. I held my breath, clutching the carved wooden banister as I glided down the steps with Amelia pulling my luggage behind me.

Every single muscle in my calves burned from forcing myself to walk with Livyana’s delicate, timid, dainty posture instead of my natural, confident, hip-swaying stride. My heart hammered wildly in my ribs as Tarian’s eyes locked on mine.

He turned to his mother, his voice deep and a bit hoarse with irritation. “Mother, is it really necessary to bring her along? She can just stay home and help around with running the house.”

This man was completely silly!

For a fraction of a second, I almost dropped the submissive, timid smile on my face and scowled right back at his arrogant face. I wanted so badly to snap his neck right there in front of the guards!

Before I could slip up and ruin our entire cover, Queen Mother Raychel stepped between us. She took my right hand and Tarian’s left hand, pulling us close and squeezing our fingers together tightly.

“Remember, my children,” she purred, her eyes shifting between us with a sweet smile, “what happens in Geneva should yield positive results.”

I did not know what she meant by that, but I simply smiled shyly and nodded as the royal chauffeur opened the front doors and led the way to the waiting limousine.