Mate 07 - Consort Lesson

Sage

The music and laughter from the grand ballroom became a distant murmur as I stepped outside, unseen and unmissed. The emperor had commanded the festivities to continue, ensuring that no one would notice my absence. The cool night air wrapped around me, a stark contrast to the stifling weight in my chest. My gown trailed behind me, heavy and cumbersome, but nothing compared to the ache pressing against my ribs.

I walked without direction, my steps leading me to the gardens. The scent of night-blooming flowers lingered in the air, weaving itself into the tangled threads of my thoughts. My vision blurred as hot tears welled in my eyes. I had held them back for too long. But here, beneath the impassive glow of the moon, I let them fall. A shuddering breath escaped me, my shoulders trembling as I clutched my chest, the weight of duty and expectation coiling around my soul like iron chains.

Then, a handkerchief appeared before me.

I hesitated, my fingers brushing against unfamiliar warmth as I accepted it. The stranger who offered it remained silent, choosing instead to sit across from me on the other side of the wishing well. He did not comfort me nor did he demand an explanation. He simply let me cry.

And so, I did.

The exhaustion, the heartbreak, the loneliness—I let it all spill from me. I had no sense of time, only the quiet presence beside me and the way my body slowly surrendered to fatigue. My vision darkened, my breath steadied, and before I could summon the strength to speak, sleep claimed me.

I woke to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the sheer curtains. For a moment, I wasn't sure where I was. The warmth of the blankets, the familiar scent of jasmine lingering in the air—then my fingers brushed against something soft in my palm.

The handkerchief.

My heart clenched.

I had not even asked his name.

The events of last night rushed back like a wave crashing against the shore. The ball, the emperor's decree to continue the celebration despite my departure, the garden, the stranger who had given me silent comfort. A fleeting moment of peace in a life where I had none.

I sat up, clutching the fabric tighter, my chest still heavy with exhaustion, but before I could dwell on it further, the doors to my chamber swung open.

A group of maids entered, their expressions carefully neutral, but I didn't miss the glances they exchanged. The way their gazes flickered to me—some with poorly hidden contempt, others with forced indifference. They moved with practiced efficiency, drawing the curtains wider, bringing in fresh linens, and preparing the golden basin of water for my morning wash.

The hushed murmurs began as they worked around me.

"She doesn't deserve this fate."

"The oracle declared it—her destined mate is the crown prince of Angentha."

"How could someone like her be tied to him? She's nothing but the daughter of a slave."

"If she fails to secure him, there will be consequences."

I swallowed hard, keeping my expression blank as they bathed and dressed me, their words stabbing deeper than any blade. This wasn't new. I had grown up in this palace hearing the same cruel whispers, feeling the same stares burning into my back.

But last night changed everything.

The oracle had spoken. My fate was now bound to Damien Angentha, the crown prince of the southern empire. And the emperor of western—my father—would never allow me to refuse such a prophecy.

Just as they finished lacing the bodice of my gown, the doors creaked open once more. A royal attendant stepped in, bowing deeply.

"Your Highness, the emperor alpha requests your presence in the throne room."

My hands curled into fists at my sides. I already knew what awaited me.

The emperor never summoned me unless it was to remind me of my duty, my purpose. And now that the oracle's vision had been revealed, he would expect nothing less than absolute obedience.

Steeling myself, I lifted my chin and walked forward.

No matter what lay ahead, I had no choice but to face it.

The corridors stretched endlessly before me, the polished marble floors reflecting the golden glow of the morning sun. Each step I took felt heavier than the last, the weight of my fate pressing down on my shoulders like an iron shackle.

The palace staff barely spared me a glance as I passed. Some bowed out of obligation, others turned away as if my presence alone was offensive. I was used to it. The daughter of a slave had no place in an empire built on bloodlines and power.

But now, the oracle's vision had changed everything.

I was no longer just an inconvenience to be ignored. I was a piece to be played—a pawn in a much larger game.

The throne room doors loomed ahead, guarded by two armored sentinels. At the sight of me, they moved in perfect synchronization, pulling open the heavy doors without a word. The air inside was colder, heavier, laced with the scent of incense and something far more suffocating.

Power.

My father sat on the golden throne, draped in deep crimson robes, his expression unreadable. Beside him, high-ranking nobles stood in silent attention, their piercing gazes cutting into me the moment I stepped forward.

I bowed low, keeping my head down as I spoke. "Your Majesty."

"Rise."

I did, but I did not meet his gaze. To do so would be a challenge, and I had no desire to test his patience.

The emperor leaned forward, resting his elbows on the arms of his throne. "You must already know why you're here."

My throat tightened. "The oracle's prophecy."

He nodded. "The gods have spoken, Sage. You are destined to be the mate of Crown Prince Damien Angentha. This alliance will solidify our empire's strength for generations."

I remained silent. There was nothing to say.

He studied me for a long moment before his voice dropped into something sharper, colder. "The only thing you can do for our family is to ensure that the crown alpha of Angentha accepts you as his mate. You will bear his heir, securing our empire's future."

My stomach twisted. "That's impossible, Your Majesty. How could he open his heart to someone like me?"

I kept my head low, but the words still tasted bitter on my tongue. The emperor was my father, yet he treated me as nothing more than a political tool. A bargaining chip in his grand strategy.

His response was nothing more than a quiet chuckle. "Nothing is impossible."

Then he leaned forward, his voice dropping into a whisper that sent a shiver of revulsion down my spine.

"Offer him something he can't refuse. Your purity."

My knees trembled.

I wanted to believe I had misheard him. That even he, with all his ruthlessness, would not go this far. But I knew better.

He was serious.

The emperor studied me for a long moment, his gaze cold and calculating. "You will do whatever it takes to secure this alliance," he said finally. "Failure is not an option."

I knew exactly what that meant.

Disobedience was not an option. Refusal would mean exile—or worse.

The weight of his words settled over me like chains. I had no voice in this matter. My fate had already been decided before I was even born.

I stood frozen, my heart pounding so hard it threatened to break through my ribs.

I never dreamt of ruling an empire that never accepted me. I had never wanted power, prestige, or the throne.

But I didn't want to die.

And now, I had no choice but to face the fate that had been forced upon me.

"You will depart as soon as we receive the reply letter," he continued. "The Angenthans will be expecting you in their empire. Do not bring shame upon us, Sage. Once you set foot on their land, you are no longer just my daughter—you are a representative of our bloodline."

I pressed my lips together, my throat tightening. His daughter? He had never once treated me like one.

But still, I lowered my head in submission. "Yes, Your Majesty."

The emperor exhaled, as if satisfied with my obedience. "You are dismissed."

I bowed once more before turning on my heel and walking out of the throne room, my heart pounding.

The next day, Mistress Leovold wasted no time in enforcing my new reality.

She stood in front of the grand map spread across the study table, her sharp eyes already scanning my face for any sign of resistance. "Since your lessons are now daily, we will start with geography." She tapped the center of the map. "Repeat after me: Angentha is the largest empire in the realm."

I forced my voice to remain steady. "Angentha is the largest empire in the realm."

Mistress Leovold nodded. "Good. Now, its borders stretch across the northern mountains, the Black Sea to the east, and the Red Sand Wastes to the west. Each region is controlled by noble families who serve the crown alpha, and each has a role in maintaining Angentha's dominance." She gestured toward the map. "Point to the capital."

I hesitated, then placed my finger over a large, fortified city near the center of the empire. "Here."

"Correct. Blackridge—the heart of the Lycan Throne."

The name alone sent a chill down my spine. That was where I would live. Where I would serve my purpose.

Mistress Leovold's voice continued, steady and unyielding. "Angentha is not ruled through politics and manipulation like our empire. It is ruled through strength. If you appear weak, you will be discarded."

I swallowed hard.

"Which is why," she added, "you will also begin combat training."

I blinked. "What?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you think the crown prince would accept a mate who cannot even defend herself? You will learn the basics of self-defense, swordsmanship, and lycan etiquette. If you embarrass yourself in front of the Angenthans, you might not live long enough to regret it."

A chill ran down my spine.

I had never held a sword in my life. I had never needed to. But now . . . .

Mistress Leovold studied me closely before turning to her books. "We will continue with customs next. There are traditions you must understand before you set foot in their land."

I clenched my hands beneath the table, forcing myself to focus.

There was no escaping this.

I had to learn. I had to survive.

The study felt colder than usual that evening. Candles flickered along the grand oak table where I sat. My hands were folded neatly on my lap despite the discomfort pooling in my stomach. Mistress Leovold stood before me, her expression unreadable as she turned the pages of a book I couldn't yet see.

"We have covered geography, history, and combat etiquette," she began, her tone as precise as ever. "Now, we must move on to another crucial lesson—one that will determine your success in securing the crown prince's favor."

I swallowed hard, already knowing what was coming.

"Sex education," she said plainly.

Heat rushed to my face, and I stiffened, gripping my skirts beneath the table.

Mistress Leovold arched an eyebrow at my reaction but did not comment on it. Instead, she pulled out a different book—one far older, its leather binding worn from age. She placed it before me, opening to an illustration of intertwined figures.

"The Angenthans value strength in all things, including in their mates," she said. "To serve the crown prince is not simply about duty—it is about power, submission, and the ability to satisfy him in every way he demands."

I forced myself to meet her gaze, even as my heart pounded.

"You may find this lesson uncomfortable," she continued, "but it is necessary. The crown alpha will not tolerate innocence or hesitation. You must learn how to meet his expectations."

A sharp chill crept down my spine. I had been told my entire life that my worth was tied to this moment—to the alliance I could secure with my body. But hearing it spoken so plainly . . . it felt as though I was being stripped of whatever little freedom I had left.

Mistress Leovold did not soften her tone. "There are rules to intimacy with an alpha," she said, turning the page to another set of illustrations. "The first is obedience. When he claims you, you do not resist. You submit."

I inhaled sharply.

She continued as if she hadn't noticed. "The second is endurance. Alphas are not like other werewolves. Their strength, their stamina—it will be unlike anything you have ever known. You must be prepared."

A lump formed in my throat, but I remained silent.

"The third is desire." She paused, watching me closely. "If you do not please him, if you do not satisfy his instincts, he will reject you. And a rejected mate in Angentha is as good as dead."

A heavy silence filled the room.

I felt as though the walls were closing in, as though my fate had been carved into my skin with no hope of escape.

Mistress Leovold flipped to another page. "You will study these texts. You will learn what pleases a man—what pleases an alpha." Her gaze sharpened. "And when the time comes, you will not fail."

I could barely breathe.

The emperor's words echoed in my mind. Offer him something he can't refuse.

This was my duty. My fate.

And no matter how much it terrified me, I had no choice but to obey.

Mistress Leovold's voice remained steady, unaffected by my silence. She pushed the book toward me, its aged pages filled with detailed descriptions and diagrams. "Read," she instructed.

My fingers trembled as I reached for the book, my pulse quickening with each word I took in. The text was explicit, detailing not only the physical aspects of intimacy but also the psychological—how an alpha's instincts drove him, how a mate was expected to respond.

"Your body," Mistress Leovold continued, "will be the key to securing the crown prince's favor. He is a warrior, a ruler, and a man of dominance. If you are weak, he will not see you as his equal. If you hesitate, he will see you as unworthy."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "And if he does?"

Her gaze sharpened. "Then you will be discarded, and our empire will lose this alliance."

The weight of her words settled over me like iron chains.

"The Angenthans do not court in the way our nobility does," she went on. "Their bonds are primal, dictated by instincts and power. You must understand this if you wish to survive." She pointed to a passage in the book. "Read this aloud."

I hesitated before obeying. My voice was quiet at first, but as I continued, the words became heavier, more intimate. The passage spoke of submission and trust, of the way an alpha claimed his mate—not just in body, but in spirit.

Mistress Leovold studied me closely. "Do you understand?"

I forced myself to nod. "Yes."

But deep inside, fear curled in my stomach.

"You will also be given physical training," she said next. "Your body must be prepared for him."

My head snapped up. "What?"

"You will be taught how to endure, how to move, how to please." She spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "When you are in Angentha, you will not have the luxury of innocence."

Shame and fear warred within me, but I knew there was no escape. This was what my father expected. This was what I had been born for.

"Your lessons begin tomorrow," she said, closing the book. "You may leave for now."

I stood, my legs unsteady beneath me. Without another word, I turned and left the room, my heart pounding in my chest.

The halls of the palace had never felt so suffocating.

I had always known that I was nothing more than a tool in my father's plans. But now, as I walked back to my chambers, I realized just how deeply that truth had been carved into my fate.

And there was no way out.

That night, I couldn't sleep.

The heavy book Mistress Leovold had given me lay on my bedside table, its presence suffocating. The words I had read were still fresh in my mind, each sentence reinforcing what was expected of me.

Obedience. Endurance. Desire.

I turned onto my side, curling my fingers into the silk sheets. The idea of being touched by a stranger, of surrendering to a man I had never met, made my stomach twist. I had always known my purpose—to be useful to the empire—but knowing and accepting were two different things.

A knock on my door startled me. "Enter," I called, sitting up.

One of the palace maids stepped inside, bowing. "Mistress Leovold has requested you in the training hall at dawn, Your Highness."

So soon.

I nodded stiffly. "Understood."

The maid hesitated before adding, "Your bath has been drawn. Would you like assistance?"

"No," I said quickly, needing a moment to myself.

Once she left, I stepped into the adjoining bathing chamber, the scent of lavender and jasmine filling the air. I sank into the warm water, closing my eyes.

Tomorrow, my training will begin.

Tomorrow, I will take the first step toward becoming what they expected me to be.

The next morning, the palace was barely awake when I arrived at the training hall. The large, open space was empty except for Mistress Leovold who stood by a cushioned mat.

She gestured for me to stand before her. "Today, we begin your physical training. You must learn how to carry yourself, how to move, and how to respond."

I swallowed hard. "Respond?"

"To touch," she said plainly. "The crown prince will not be gentle. If you flinch or resist, you will insult him."

My fingers clenched at my sides, but I nodded.

She circled me, examining my posture. "Confidence is key. Even in submission, you must never appear weak. An alpha desires a mate who can withstand him."

I exhaled, forcing myself to stand taller.

Mistress Leovold moved in front of me. "We will begin with touch. You must learn to accept it without reaction."

I barely had time to process her words before she reached forward and grasped my wrist. It was not a painful grip, but the sudden contact made my skin prickle. I fought the urge to pull away.

She tilted her head. "Tense."

I forced myself to relax.

"Good." She released me. "Now, stand still."

She stepped behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders. Her touch was firm, adjusting my posture. "Your body should be fluid, not rigid."

I nodded, swallowing the unease creeping up my spine.

"This is only the beginning," she said. "By the time you leave for Battlerce, you will be ready."

I wasn't sure if the words were meant to reassure me.

Or to warn me.

The days blurred into one another as Mistress Leovold's lessons continued. My body grew sore from the constant training, but I dared not show weakness. The palace was filled with whispers—whispers about the oracle, about my future, about the Angenthans coming to claim me. I felt like a puppet, with my every movement dictated by the emperor's will.

Each morning, Mistress Leovold had me practice more physical exercises, teaching me how to stand, how to sit, how to respond to touch with both grace and submission. I was learning to endure, to suppress the growing panic inside me, but it never fully left. Every evening, I lay awake in my bed, the weight of my fate pressing down on me.

The training sessions grew more intense. Mistress Leovold would instruct me in the basics of Lycan customs—how to address an alpha, how to move in their presence, what to say and what not to say. I learned about their mating rituals, their expectations of their mates, their dominance, and their power.

"You must anticipate his desires before he speaks them," Mistress Leovold told me one afternoon, her voice cool as she watched me practice walking across the room. "The Crown Prince will expect nothing less than perfection. Every move you make should be deliberate, calculated. Show no uncertainty, no hesitation."

I nodded, forcing myself to hold steady, but inside, I felt like I was unraveling.

As the days passed, the sense of impending change became more palpable. The emperor's orders were clear—there was no room for error. The letter had already been sent to the Angenthans, and the envoy was on its way to deliver the oracle's prophecy. In a few short weeks, I would be leaving the palace, heading toward Angentha.

I had no choice but to go.

The night before my departure, I stood by the window of my chambers, gazing out at the darkened landscape. The sky was clear, and the moon was full, casting a pale light over the palace grounds. I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing myself a fleeting sense of peace, before the reality of my situation crept back into my mind.

This was my life now.

The next morning, the emperor summoned me once again. I had grown accustomed to his cold, emotionless commands, but today, something felt different.

He was seated at his desk, his gaze sharp as I entered. "Your training is complete, Sage. Soon, you will leave for Angentha to meet your mate."

I bowed low. "Yes, Your Majesty."

His eyes darkened as he looked at me. "Do not disappoint me. You have been prepared for this. You must be perfect. The crown prince is not one to tolerate mistakes, especially not from a mate."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"You will travel with the envoy," he continued. "And once you arrive, you will present yourself as his destined mate. You will do whatever it takes to secure this alliance. Your worth is no longer defined by your bloodline, but by what you can offer him."

I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

"Now, go," the emperor ordered. "Prepare yourself. The journey begins at dawn."

With a heavy heart, I turned to leave, the weight of my fate bearing down on me once more.