CHAPTER SEVEN: THE KING'S CHAMBER

The Queen stormed out of her chamber and went straight to the King's chamber.

She stopped before the doors and lifted her chin.

"Announce my presence."

The guard bowed and turned toward the doors. He knocked twice, then spoke loudly.

"Your majesty, Her Highness, the Queen, requests an audience."

Silence. Then, from inside:

"Let her in."

The guard opened the doors. The Queen swept inside.

The King was seated at his desk. Papers were spread before him—reports from the villages, requests from the packs. He looked tired. He always looked tired now.

"What was that about, your majesty?"

"Calm down."

He rose and walked toward her, reaching for her hair. She stepped back. His hands fell to his sides.

"Do not tell me to calm down. This is not necessary." Her voice was sharp. Then it softened, turning sweet like honey. "If you keep doing this, you will start making the people think you are desperate for a child, and they will start mocking me for not giving you one."

Her eyes filled with tears. Not real tears. Tears she could summon at will. She had learned that trick years ago.

The King's expression crumbled. He pulled her into his arms.

"You know what, I am sorry. I should have discussed it with you first. But if I keep asking you before making decisions, the people will think I am never capable of making decisions."

"And that is why I am your wife, your majesty," she responded, her voice muffled against his chest. "I am in your life to keep making decisions for you. For the kingdom."

He held her tighter.

"You are not supposed to order them to give Aria a room, and you even went to the room to clean it yourself. She is a slave like every other person. But since she entered the palace, you have been treating her differently from the rest of the maids."

"No, dear. I just feel guilty. I feel we removed her happiness from her."

"My love," the Queen said gently, pulling back to look at him. Her wolf stirred inside her, satisfied. It loved watching him bend. "You do not have to feel guilty. Her parents committed a grave crime, and they paid with their lives."

"The only person you should treat well is Selene, because we are family. My late elder sister's daughter. She has stayed with us in the palace for years."

"You know I do treat Selene right," King Aldric said, his voice low.

"I know," the Queen responded. "And that is why you should not treat anyone special apart from Selene. She will be the next Luna of this kingdom, your majesty. Her wolf is very strong. She is brave, just like us. She has everything to rule this kingdom."

"I know, my queen. And that is why I made sure she attended the best school ever."

"Please do not take action without letting me know again. Tell them to take her back to the maids' quarters. That is where she belongs."

King Aldric sighed and lowered his head. "Okay, my queen. I will. Anything for you."

His wolf was silent. It had been silent for fifteen years.

"That reminds me, your majesty."

She looked at him, and this time a wide smile spread across her face.

"Our princess Selene is returning in two days' time. We should start preparing for her arrival. It has been six years since we last saw her."

She paused. The smile grew.

"I cannot wait to see her again. She will make a fine Luna in years to come."

King Aldric was silent for a while. Then he pulled Queen Seraphina toward him and hugged her tightly. His voice was low, like a whisper.

"I feel this is all my fault. The royal physician said my wolf has been broken since the day we lost our child. He said the grief shattered something inside me. My wolf has not spoken since that day. It is as though it died with our child."

Queen Seraphina shook her head slightly. "It is not your fault, your majesty. Yes, we lost our child fifteen years ago, and we could not conceive again. But fate brought Selene into our lives. I am grateful she is from us instead of letting an outsider inherit the kingdom."

She held him. Her wolf purred. Everything was as it should be.

---

Aria sat in the room the King had given her.

It was clean. Well equipped. A bed with fresh sheets. A window that looked out onto the courtyard. A wardrobe in the corner. A small table with a candle.

But it did not feel like home.

Her room in the cottage had been small. The walls were wood. The floor creaked. The window looked out onto the forest. But it was warm. It was hers. Thomas had built the bed with his own hands. Mira had sewn the curtains. Every corner held a memory.

This room was bigger. Better equipped. But it was cold. It was empty. It was not hers.

The palace was strange to her. The walls were too high. The corridors were too long. The people were too cold. She did not understand its rules. She did not know how she would live her life in this big place.

She sat on the bed and looked at the carved wristband on her hand.

Boldly written on it was her name: ARIA.

Thomas had carved it for her when she turned twelve. He had worked on it for days, shaping the wood with his knife, smoothing the edges with his thumb. He had told her never to remove it. He had said it would always protect her.

She held it as tears began pouring.

"Dad," she whispered. "I do not want this. I want you here with me instead. I want you to protect me from here."

The tears fell faster. She wiped them with her sleeve, but they kept coming.

She missed them.

She missed Mira's cooking. She missed Thomas's laugh. She missed the way they held her when she was scared. She missed the cottage. She missed the forest.

She missed being loved.

She wiped her tears and kept looking at the wristband.

Then her eyes moved to the bandage on her hand.

She noticed she was not feeling pain anymore.

Not long ago, when the royal physician was dressing her wound, she had been in so much pain. The Queen's nails had cut deep. The blood had been real. The wound had been real.

But now she could not feel any pain.

She removed the bandage. Her breath caught.

The wound was gone. Not healed—gone. There was no scar. No bruise. No mark of any kind. Her skin was smooth, as though nothing had ever happened.

Her hands began to tremble.

"This is impossible," she whispered.

She touched her skin. Pressed it. Pinched it. Nothing.

"Is there something wrong with me that I do not know?"

She remembered when it happened days ago, after rescuing those children. Her bruises had disappeared overnight. She had woken up and found her skin clear.

But she had not even gotten the chance to open up to Thomas and Mira.

How I wish they were here with me. They would have explained what is happening to me.

Voices sounded outside her door. She quickly dressed the wound again. If someone found out about her healing ability, it might cause more problems. The Queen would think she had been lying to her.

Then she paused.

Is that why the Queen was asking if my wolf has awakened? Did she know anything about me?

The thought unsettled her. She pushed it away.

Then a loud noise erupted in the room. Something had fallen. Something heavy.

Aria froze.

Her heart pounded against her ribs. Her breath caught in her throat.

She did not move.

The sound came again. Closer this time.

From inside the room.

Her legs gave way beneath her. She fell to the ground.

"Who is there?" The scream tore from her throat. "I have gone through a lot today, so show yourself."

Silence.

A rod lay on the floor nearby. Her fingers closed around it as she pulled herself up. Her hands were shaking. Her eyes darted toward the wardrobe.

Slowly, her feet carried her toward it.

She reached for the handle.

The door creaked open.

Her breath caught. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

She fell to the ground.