2. Seven Years Prior

My sights were on the delicate designs of wolves that decorated my white doors.

In my posture, I, Louise Arktisk, shall remain still in my little round white marble floors.

My room had an enchanting entrance.

Unlike my nervous hands, which were hard to control, it distracted all of the sighs from the beauty my room contained.

It wasn't easy to maintain my body, with everything relying on my shoulder at the age of ten.

I had to establish that I was fit to wed on my welcoming to womanhood on my eighteen to none other than a King of my clan.

Even in my mind, was I in doubt of my power, of my ability to be fit?

Nothing would be the same after this encounter.

This evening, I’m to meet he would be my King, we would be raised together to establish an alliance and court on our wedding.

I could not be of disobedience as the direct bloodline of my family. It was upon me to uphold my clan to victory.

Since my infant days, I would be trained, learn my place as a high society lady, and then be the Queen mother.

As my mother before me, was I to be loyal to my subjects, yet as a sword, a direct threat, when need be to my competitors, the only thing I could not overcome yet was to give up on these foolish feelings, of these mystical stories of being loved by the one named to be my mate.

Only those blessed by our mother could be worshiped from the heart.

It was no hidden desire of my parents, who are both fated to one another.

It was the heartbreak of learning the council chose for me as they did for my parents to unite my kingdom with my nearest alliance, the one that would tie the entire bloodline to one of the same species.

We would finalize the line and then our unity to our own.

He was not of my family, yet by this marriage, he would be.

We needed this alliance.

In these lands, there are only four species of werewolves: the higher domains of all, the black coats of the Fenrisúlfr, but of strength that could destroy the entire country if allowed, their body features are all the same, black hair, black orb eyes with bright sky blue iris, fair skin, and are as tall as trees, around the rumors they are known as the black wolves who eat anyone from infants to grown men, if I am, to be frank, suits their barbaric hearts just the same.

However, my clan is known as Arktisk.

My last name is my clan.

With our dark snow skin, white hair, and white eyes, we are the sharpest minds of our kind, a strength of mind and wisdom, known solely as the white wolves of the north.

As the doors opened, a young, slim man with the same definitions as mine stood behind our parents.

The warmth of the embrace my parents displayed me calmed my nervous hands, who were facing me.

They had walked past me.

Staying still in my white Victorian ball gown, decorated in diamonds, I have my hands on top of the other in my chest, a costume from my upbringing.

Satisfying my King was a norm to uphold as future Queen in any way he desired, yet his attention was directed to my maiden, my best friend, Isabella.

She had stiffened the moment my doors were open.

Once closed, both rulers were divided, after which, once the prince had entered, he let out a short growl that did not please me.

It was clear this wouldn’t work.

Withholding my expressions was an achievement that had taken me years to achieve.

Yet how would he ever uphold his end of our duty?

We had multiple duties to support, one of which was to make an heir.

How would we when we aren’t compatible?

Beta Ben was with another.

They would introduce us.

Standing behind the boy spoke the elderly man, “I, Elder Cameo, introduce to Lady Loise Arkitisk, future Queen mother, to you young King,” his face was distasteful towards me.

Taking my left foot, I placed it on my toes and bent my knees till my height met the floor.

A proud growl escaped from either side, “The council's choice for a King and Queen, it is our greatest pleasure to introduce the young King Irvan Arkitisk, the last of his clan. With this union, the bloodline ties into one clan.”

Waiting on Ivan was proving to be difficult as he made me stay in this pose, yet behind me, Beta Ben spoke, “Young Irvan.”

A warning growl was heard from his mother.

He moved his feet in the same motion, and with one hand, he took my hands in my face.

My eyes moved to meet his when he spoke casually, “It is with great respect to meet you, Lady Louise,” his words held no emotion to me.

They are unpleasant to my heart to hear.

Those who surrounded us had a tension that would make the sides of one’s sword blush.

Taking my step back to lift myself, my facial expressions were of those reflected by one’s porcelain doll.

His ignorance would be his destruction, and I intend to keep such behaviors to my advantage.

My charming words disarmed him, “The pleasure to you, my King, goes without notice. However, my deepest apologies for not meeting your requirements, if I may be modest with my words?”

I waited patiently for his approval to continue, yet it was clear he was angered.

Queens have a higher wording than a King.

However, a King's actions were not returned unless one wished for bloodshed.

He did not answer.

His hands abandoned mine harshly, to which Father Knight Ben growled in warning.

Elder Cameo replied in Irvan’s state, “In modesty shall you proceed, Lady Louise,” I held myself firmly, placing my hands in the same manner but under my undeveloped chest.

Clearing my throat, I spoke softly, in my charm, “May I begin by requesting to use your name?”

This brought a small joy of gasp from both our mothers.

He closed his eyes, not trying to roll his eyes, let out a breath, then replied, “You may do as you please. We are to be wed; only a fool would deny such things from their wife, their Queen,” a minor disappointment was heard from his mother, yet I proceeded with a small smile, “I too share your hearts desires, Irvan. Only we can rise together. I do not wish to be the thorn in your journey, as I wish the same desires from you. If it pleases you, we can begin by a simple trade of letters?”

Irvan opened his eyes, reflecting that he was annoyed he hadn’t come to this agreement, a fault I recognized immediately and recoiled with a sweeter expression.

I took from the inside of my sleep a small note I had made before our meeting.

Placing it on my lips, I lightly kissed it, an act to take place in the goodness of the council, in the eyes of our parents and those before us both.

Placing the note in my hand, I extend it to him, walking to me.

He took this opportunity to overthrow me, yet he wouldn’t win; he was my rival, and I would not lose, taking the note in his hand, he turned my hand to kiss the top of it, and everyone in the room clapped in acceptance that we would make this arrangement work.

Ivan gently returned my hand and spoke attentively, “This arrangement would benefit us perfectly. However, we must still meet in person at least once every other day, as we have met today. We shall meet again on my moving to the east wing,”

I saw hope in his eyes, yet his eyes were directed to Isabella, just as they had been this entire time.

I smiled, exposing a false sense of security, disguised as excitement by skipping a bit in my place, earning me a shushed lecture from Mother, “Louise, stop,” I pressed my lips a bit to finish my theatrical act to the young obnoxious, childish, ignorant, and arrogant, excuse for a king.

The council seemed to be entirely pleased with our expressions towards each other as our parents, alongside the council representative, rose from the seated places they came to leave to the main hall pared between each other.

They walked first from us in a fashionable order: first, the council; Second, my parents, said his parents.

And lastly, he held my hand tightly, then whispered in my ear, “It seems you’ve won this chest move.” I held back a smile yet, in a whisper, said, “Cheek, mate.”