7

Livia POV

Rule number three: smile more often, and laugh even when he isn’t saying something funny.

Rule number three was the sole reason I had been smiling like a brainless sheep and chuckling like a delusional hyena ever since we stepped foot inside the shopping mall.

The only redeeming quality of this entire miserable evening was the exotic, silk-smooth ride that had picked me up from the compound.

Becoming the soon-to-be Luna of May town certainly had its perks, and as tiring as this disguise was, I reasoned that taking advantage of the luxury wasn't a terrible idea.

However, my patience was wearing dangerously thin. We had been sitting in the VIP lounge of the high-end boutique; May Towers, for over thirty minutes, and the actual shopping had yet to commence.

A sales representative, a sophisticated Beta woman, glided toward us with an air of solemn elegance. "Would you like a glass of champagne while you wait, ma'am? It's on the house."

My soul screamed YES, but Livyana’s voice echoed in my head: Ask for water, Livia! It makes you look humble and sweet like me.

My inner wolf practically gagged as I watched another one of life's finer pleasures fly right past me. "J-just... water, please," I stammered, painting a timid, picture-perfect smile across my face.

The representative turned to the Alpha King. "And for you, Your Highness?"

"I'm fine. I don't want anything," Tarian replied without looking up from his phone.

I sat beside him, holding my fake smile so hard my cheeks burned, wondering why simply breathing the same air as this man irked me to my very core. Look at him—sitting there so larger than life, taking up space like he owned the entire world.

Without breaking his gaze from his screen, Tarian spoke up. "Why have you been staring at me and smiling like a idiot since we arrived? Have you never been to a shopping mall before?"

I squeezed my fists under my dress, desperately suppressing the urge to rip his throat out.

Well I can’t because he is the Alpha King and I would be jailed for treason.

I swallowed the hot bile rising in my throat and forced my voice to drop into a meek, airy pitch.

"It's... it's because you are so handsome, Your Highness. And truthfully, I've never been to a place as grand as this."

Gag.

How did those words not rot my tongue on the way out? I hated this. I hated playing the clueless, starry-eyed girl. I wanted to scream in his face that I had been on plenty of rebellious shopping sprees at low-budget boutiques—sure, they were low budget, but it was my hard-earned cash, and I got to pick whatever the hell I wanted!

I wanted to tell him that there was nothing special about this place. As someone with an actual eye for high fashion, nothing here screamed style.

It was just a bunch of luxury tagged jargons crammed onto rack hangers with outrageously overpriced tags.

But instead, I just sat there, staring at him quietly like a helpless puppy.

Tarian finally slid his phone into his pocket and met my gaze. "If you have something to say, you might as well say it. Stop staring at me like that. It’s creeping me out."

"Why are we waiting?" I asked politely. "It’s been over thirty minutes."

"Patience. Patience is a virtue you clearly lack," he said blandly. "We are waiting for my mother."

My eyebrows twitched. "Your mother?"

What on earth is his mother coming here to do?

Before I could process it, the glass double doors swung open. The Queen Mother glided in, flanked by four handmaids, smelling of opulent jasmine and ofcourse, old money.

"Oh, my sweet daughter-in-law!" she cooed, stepping forward and wrapping me in a warm, suffocating hug. "How are you doing today, Livyana?"

"I'm doing very well, Your Highness," I smiled sweetly.

Tarian immediately stood up, adjusting his dark suit jacket. "Mother, now that you're here, I have an important pack meeting to catch. You can handle the rest of the shopping."

I froze. My sheepish smile nearly cracked right off my face.

The Queen Mother frowned, stepping into his path. "Tarian, you cannot be serious. I just got here! I was hoping we could…"

"I have duties to attend to," Tarian said firmly, his tone leaving zero room for debate.

A quiet, intense argument broke out between mother and son. Tarian wasn't having a single word of it. Without offering me so much as a polite nod or a respectful glance, he turned on his heel and strode out of the boutique, his guards falling into formation behind him.

The Queen Mother let out a soft sigh, turning back to sit beside me on the sofa. "I am so sorry about him, Livyana. He... well, he has urgent kingly matters to settle."

She offered a flimsy excuse, but I wasn't stupid. It was painfully obvious that the douchebag didn't buy into this whole shopping routine and couldn't care less about being here with me.

"Besides," the Queen Mother added, patting my hand gently, "the King has kingly duties. Let women do women duties."

Again, Patriarchy wins.

What did she mean women duties? I would rather be in an office working up my next vacation money if I had the chance than be in here, picking through racks of zero elegance for a bridal outfit, only to be married to that grumpy Alpha.

The suffocating stench of patriarchy in that single sentence made my skin crawl so bad, but I knew the Queen Mother was a conservative woman of the olden days. I bowed my head and silently prayed to the Moon Goddess to grant me the strength to survive this torture without snapping out.

"This will be a wonderful avenue for mother and daughter-in-law to bond," she continued warmly.

My heart sank into my stomach.

Bonding.

This was terrible news.

I could as well, officially kiss my hopes of snagging a few stunning, hot dresses goodbye. The moment the sales representative wheeled in a rack of pre-selected pieces, my worst fears were confirmed.

I stared at the dresses. Boring cuts, high collars, shapeless skirts. I didn't like a single piece. Not one.