The Butcher of the North: Rejected by the Crown Prince

AURELIA’S POV

The morning air in Queen Persephone’s memorial garden smelt like lavender and white roses, these were the flowers she had loved most.

I knelt beside the flowerbed, using my fingers to gently brush away the rose petals that had fallen from the stone path. This place was the only part of the palace that still felt like home to me. 

The only place where I still heard her voice whispering to me through the rustling leaves.

I closed my eyes and let the memories fill my mind. I was barely eight when my mother went berserk from a plague that raided the Southern Regions. 

My father worked for Queen Persephone but he left to rescue my mother and I, but eventually died in a carriage accident on the southern road. 

The palace guards brought me here, dirty, scared, and alone. Queen Persephone had taken one look at me and opened her arms. “You will stay with us, little one,” she had said, she was as warm as the sunlight. “This is your home now.”

She raised me alongside Prince Lucien. We played in these same gardens, chased each other through the hedges, and shared secrets under the old oak tree. 

She treated me like her own daughter, even though I had no noble blood, no title, and no wolf that had ever awakened. I was just Aurelia, an orphan servant who somehow got favoured by the queen.

I smiled softly as I remembered Lucien’s laughter echoing here years ago. “One day, Lia,” he used to say, “when I’m king, no one will ever look down on you again.” 

My heart fluttered even now at the thought. The Moon Blessing Festival was only three days away and almost everyone believed the Moon Goddess would name me as his mate. 

I believed it too. I mean, after everything, fate had to be kind.

The sound of multiple approaching footsteps disturbed the serenity of the garden. I rose quickly, brushing dirt from my simple servant’s gown, and turned just as Queen Seraphina waltzed into the garden with her usual entourage.

She moved like she owned every inch of the palace—which, in many ways now, she did. 

Her elegant silver gown trailed behind her, and her dark hair was pinned up with jewels that shone brightly in the morning light. 

Beside her walked Celeste, her daughter, looking every bit the proud noblewoman she was in a deep green dress. While behind them a train of nervous servants and guards followed them.

The atmosphere took a turn for the worst immediately she entered. The gardeners who had been working nearby straightened up, their faces had fear clearly written all over. One of them dropped his shears, and the clatter made everyone flinch.

Seraphina stopped near the rose bushes looking over at Queen Persephone’s favorite. 

After what seemed like minutes she waved a dismissive hand. “Remove these,” she ordered. “They no longer suit the garden. Replace them with night-blooming lilies, something more…,fitting for the new era.”

I felt my stomach drop, and then I stepped forward before I could stop myself.

“Your Majesty,” I said, trying to keep my voice respectful. “These were Queen Persephone’s favorites. She planted them herself, the garden has always honored her memory this way.”

Seraphina turned slowly, landing her eyes on me. She smiled a little, but I knew nothing good ever came out of that sort of smile. Celeste moved closer to her mother and folded her arms, ready to watch the drama that was about to unfold.

Seraphina tilted her head. “Aurelia, isn’t it? The little orphan girl who has grown rather bold over the years.” She glanced back at the flowers. “The past is the past. Dead queens don’t make decisions anymore. I do. So have them torn out.”

The head gardener hesitated, looking between us. I felt anger rising in my body. 

“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” I continued, my voice almost came out trembling but I refused to back down. “This garden is a memorial. Many in the palace still find comfort here, removing her flowers so close to the Festival—”

“Comfort?” Seraphina interrupted with a maniacal laugh. “How quaint. The palace is not a museum for sentimental servants. It is the heart of Silvercrest Kingdom and hearts must beat in the present, not cling to ghosts.” She stepped closer and I nearly choked on her cloying perfume. “You would do well to remember your place, girl.”

I folded my hands into fists at my sides. “This garden was her legacy. She raised me here, she—”

“Enough.” Seraphina commanded, but her smile never faded. “Some people have become far too comfortable in places they were privileged to even exist in. The flowers go. Today.”

Celeste shifted beside her mother and smirked, her expression was smug. She didn’t say anything in particular, but her unpleasant face said everything I was meant to hear.  

Before I could respond, I heard a familiar voice come from the arch doors leading into the garden. 

“What seems to be the problem here?”

Lucien casually strode into the garden, his tall frame commanded attention immediately. He wore a simple black tunic and trousers, but the royal crest on his chest still marked him as the Crown Prince. 

His golden-brown hair was slightly tousled, as if he had come straight from training. My heart leapt for joy at the sight of him.

Seraphina’s face smoothened into a more neutral expression. “Lucien, darling. We were simply refreshing the garden. Your stepmother’s tastes differ from the late queen’s, as they should.”

Lucien’s eyes found mine first. Then he moved to stand beside me, patting my shoulders protectively.

“Aurelia is right,” he said calmly. “These flowers stay. This garden remains as my mother intended. I won’t have it changed three days before the Festival.”

Seraphina’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You side with a servant over your queen, Lucien? How….touching.”

“She is more than a servant,” Lucien replied in an authoritative voice. “She was raised by my mother. This is her home too and I suggest you respect that.”

Seraphina studied us both for a long moment, then laughed gracefully. 

“Of course, my prince,” she said sweetly. “Far be it from me to challenge tradition so close to such an important event.” She turned to leave, motioning for her attendants to follow. 

But as she passed me, she paused, lowering her voice so only I could hear her.

“Some people tend to become far too comfortable in places where they've been permitted too many rights,” she murmured close to my ear. “Enjoy it while it lasts, little dove.”

Then she was gone, Celeste trailed silently behind her. The servants scattered quickly after them.

Lucien let out a heavy breath and turned to me. “Are you alright, Lia?”

I nodded, although my hands were still shaking. “I’m fine. Thank you for stepping in, but you didn’t have to.”

He smiled, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. 

He kept his hand in the same position for a few minutes before responding. “Of course I did. You know how I feel about this place. About you.” 

He lowered his voice. “Three more days, and everything changes. The Moon Goddess will confirm what we’ve both known for years.”

I felt my cheeks heat up. “You really believe that?”

“I know it,” he said. “You’ve always been by my side, Aurelia. That won’t change.”

We talked for a while longer—about the upcoming ceremony, about memories we made in the garden, about how things would be different once the bond was revealed. His words were an assurance to me and for the first time that day, I felt steady again.

But that peace didn’t last.

That evening, as the sun went down below the palace walls, I found myself walking through the quieter corridors near the royal quarters. 

I had gone to deliver fresh linens when I heard voices coming from a half-open door that turned out to be Seraphina’s private sitting room.

I shouldn’t have stopped, but something in what she was saying made me stop.

“…the girl cannot remain here after the ceremony,” Seraphina was saying in a rather hush voice . “Once the Festival exposes the truth, she becomes a liability. Arrangements must be made. The northern borders are always in need of… discreet solutions.”

A male voice that I had never heard before responded. “You’re certain the prince won’t interfere? He seems quite attached.”

Seraphina laughed softly. “Lucien is dutiful. Once the Moon Goddess speaks and the proper path is clear, he will do what is expected of a future king. The girl has served her purpose, she was never meant to—”

I moved closer in to listen to what she had to say next, but I was unfortunate enough to step on a twig. The sound was small, but in the sudden silence that followed, it might as well have been thunder. 

I held my heart in my hands, praying to the Goddess that I would not be found out as the conversation cut off abruptly. 

I heard a chair scraping across the floor and then slow footsteps moving toward the door.

They knew.

I pressed myself against the wall, trying to calm down but the footsteps kept coming. My mind raced with multiple courses of action. Run? Hide? Too late.

The door creaked open wider.