Chapter 3

Cecilia's POV

No one will believe what really happened to me, I told myself, suppressing my eager to tell Landon that I'm not Sophia but an Alpha daughter.

“I…” I take a beat to quickly think my response through. “Well, no, my name is not Sophia. There was a small… misunderstanding by the soldiers who came to my pack to collect me. See, they took me as Sophia, but–”

“Get to the point, please,” Landon interrupts, in a softer tone.

“I’m actually called Cecilia,” I finished hastily. “But that’s me. Who you’re calling.”

“Very well, then. Please wait over there.” He gestures towards a side door, and I nod to affirm that I can follow instructions.

“Yes, sir.” As I make my way across the hall, I try to keep my eyes forward. Still, it’s impossible not to take notice of the reactions of those around me. I haven’t been the target of so many pitying looks since my mother’s death.

As I approach the side door, another voice rings out, high and piercing. “Sir, may I volunteer as well?”

I whip around to find out who it is, but somehow I already know before I even see her.

Lucy is on her tip-toes, hand outstretched straight up in the air. Her face is bright, and she appears to be completely oblivious to the looks of abject horror being directed at her from the surrounding candidates.

Landon looks a little taken aback. “Who has volunteered?” he demands, scanning the group for the surprise volunteer.

“I have, sir. I am Lucy, Omega of the Everwinter Pack. I would be honored to be the first to serve His Highness, Alpha King Leopold, during my time in this palace.” She flashes her practiced smile and tilts her head up assertively.

Landon glances down at a piece of paper in his hands, muttering, “Lucy… Everwinter… ah.” He looks up at her once more, salt-and-pepper eyebrows knit together. “Thank you for your… enthusiasm, I suppose.”

Lucy nods at him with borderline grotesque excitement.

“Fine. Please proceed to the side door as well, along with Soph– I mean, Cecilia.” He begins to walk towards me, while Lucy practically skips my way.

Landon opens the door and waves us through. “After you.”

Lucy offers a curtsy. I silently walk outside.

“Now, then,” Landon says. “Come with me.” He walks through the courtyard, hands clasped behind his back. “You will need to be dressed appropriately. The handservants to His Majesty are not uniformed the same as the other palace slaves.”

Lucy suppresses an exhilarated squeal, and for the first time, I can sense a touch of genuine annoyance in Landon’s tone.

“Please keep in mind, you must always be up earlier in the morning than His Majesty so that you are ready when he wakes.” He pauses, waiting for us.

“Yes, sir,” we say in unison.

“Very good. Upon his rising, you shall offer him his morning tea and refreshments. Then, with permission, bathe him with great care. After that, bring him his garments for the day.”

He stops suddenly before a set of doors, and opens them. “And speaking of garments, your own will be found in the chest in this room. Change quickly.”

Lucy and I rush forward and grab two outfits that look like they’ll fit us. I scramble to put it on, but Lucy takes her sweet time to admire her body in the maid dress and comb through her hair after fastening the headpiece.

“Ooh!” she exclaims, posing girlishly. I stare in disbelief, but force myself to hold my tongue.

A knock comes from outside the room. “Are you decent?” Landon asks.

“Yes, sir,” we say together again.

He opens the door. “Then follow me, please.”

The three of us make our way to the building in the middle of the grounds. It is a grandiose central structure, home to the king’s quarters where he lives and sleeps and carries out his frightful judgments on those who came before us.

“Once you have brought him his clothes in the morning and he has gotten dressed, he will let you know that he is satisfied. You will then proceed to serve him his breakfast.”

He turns to look each of us squarely in the eye, one at a time. “If he is not satisfied with his garments for whatever reason, he will ask you to change him into new ones. And I cannot emphasize this enough: you must exercise extreme caution when you do so.”

Landon breaks his eye contact with us and gazes downwards. There’s a certain concern that overtakes him for a moment, but he immediately brushes it off and says to us matter-of-factly, “Every handservant who has been tasked with changing the garments of the king during the last few months...paid the ultimate price for their mistakes.”

The blood drains from my face, but I muster up the courage to reply, “I’ll make sure to be careful, sir.”

He looks to Lucy for acknowledgment, but she’s busy rolling her top button back and forth between her index finger and thumb. She cocks her head and smiles sweetly. “Understood, sir,” she says. “Thanks so much for the reminder.”

Landon almost imperceptibly raises an eyebrow, then turns back to me. His expression softens. “Good luck.”

As we approach the palace, Landon tells us he must go, and we should proceed with our duties as instructed. I can’t stop thinking about all the possible ways I might mess up the morning tea, but Lucy still has a grin plastered on her face.

“What’s wrong?” she finally asks when we are alone. “Why do you look so… stressed?”

I stare at her incredulously. "And you are not? At all?"

“Well, I mean,” she sighs, “I see this as a privilege. Don’t you?”

I shake my head.

"That's why we are different," Lucy rolls her eyes. “I see it as my chance to become the Alpha King's concubine. Because I’m beautiful enough.”

Then she turns to me, fires in her eyes. “Omegas like us never get this kind of opportunity– usually only Beta or Alpha daughters can be selected as potential concubines for the Alpha King.”

I’m surprised by her perspective on the situation, but I remain quiet, letting her speak.

“If I can get close enough to Alpha King Leopold– which I know I can– that’s my shot at a better life,” she concludes determinedly.

I take a second to mull over what she’s just disclosed to me. “That’s an admirable goal, Lucy,” I tell her. “But remember what Landon said. Extreme caution.”

“Sure,” she says in a lightly teasing tone. “Just wait and see.”

As we wordlessly approching King Leopold’s quarters, I begin to feel my wolf Lora stirring within me again. Mate is near, she urges. Mate is trapped!

I have no clue what this is supposed to mean, but now isn’t the time to investigate.

“There’s his room!” Lucy says, a little too loudly for my liking.

I shush her hurriedly, but she’s already moving towards the door from the inner hall to the bedchamber. Before I can say anything, she’s cracked the door open and pulls me inside.

From afar, the Alpha King Leopold doesn’t look like the terrifying tyrant that everyone calls him. If anything, he looks peaceful while sleeping. There’s a handsome boldness to his face that’s particularly regal, and I can’t help but feel a deep understanding of his rightful place as king.

“Your Majesty…” Lucy starts crooning. “Your Highness…”

“Shhh,” I tell her once more. “Lucy, we’re supposed to wait.”

“My king…” she continues in a sing-songy voice, completely ignoring me. The closer she gets to him, the more anxious I become. But I have to keep myself together.

Suddenly, a bellowing man’s voice rings in my ears, "Too noisy!"

I rush forward and grab Lucy, pulling her back, making sure there is sufficient distance between the sleeping king and us.

“Stop!” I angrily whisper. “Didn’t you hear him? You’re being too loud.”

Lucy yanks her arm out of my grip and stares at me, perplexed and suspicious. “What are you talking about? He isn’t even awake?”

I turn around. “Don’t play games about this, I know he–”

The Alpha King is still lying in bed, eyes shut. Lucy was right. She hadn’t woken him up.

But if that was the case… whose voice had I heard?