Mated to the Alpha King のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Lady SeleneThe council chamber opens for me because I make it and silk settles where I want it. Heads turn in the order I’ve trained them to and I stand where light strikes clean across the table and let the room take its cue.The girl moves through the outer ring with a tray of cups and a lowered chin. Whispers collect behind her where they latch on and do not let go. Good. Noise that clings to a servant saves me time.Calista edges close, voice warm as sweet wine, as fake as I’ve trained her to be. “She’s skittish,” she says, eyes bright. “Good for sport.”Mirelle covers a smile with her hand and murmurs to two minor lords who can’t keep a secret if it’s tied to their wrists. “Kitchen stray, just look how she moves like someone taught her tricks but not manners.”Corvina watches with that thin tilt to her mouth I approve of. “She’ll step on the wrong foot and break. We can show her where to place it.”“Gently,” I say, and let the word carry enough weight to make them all a little h

ArdonThe last petitioner leaves the dais with his papers clutched tight. The herald lowers his staff as chairs scrape and robes shift. I stand and let the chamber empty along its usual lines, but I don’t release the service door. A small tilt of my head and Darian moves to hold that threshold with his body.Esme stops mid-step, tray balanced against her hip. Her gaze drops to the floor at once. Marek turns from the sideboard, measuring the distance between us, then returns to counting cups so his staff doesn’t break cadence and I don’t want to disrupt his room more than I must so I bring her into mine.“Esme,” I say.She sets the tray down on the nearest stand, fingers careful, then comes forward to the foot of the dais. When I don’t speak again, she kneels. Her hands clasp tight enough that the skin across her knuckles blanches. The tendons in her wrists stand out under thin skin. Her breathing stays even because she forces it to.Korrath presses at my ribs. 'She hides more than a k

EsmeNight strips the palace down to stone, light, and the sound of work that never stops. Torches burn in steady intervals. The floor holds the day’s warmth in some stretches and gives up cold in others. I step where the boards won’t complain and keep to the band of flooring that hasn’t been polished thin by traffic. My lungs pull air in slow even draws. The rhythm keeps my hands steady.I count the turns between the kitchens and the north foyer. I place the watch points that matter; the carved screen, the herb yard threshold, the stair above laundry where the guard on rotation tends to shift his weight at the same place every round. I’m here to build a clean path, the kind father wants. The letter under my mattress might as well be inside my ribs.I pass the scullery door. The troughs sit quiet under the faint smell of soap. A bucket ticks as the last drops find the bottom. Someone left a cloth folded in a neat square on the edge but I keep moving.At the corner before the council w

ArdonThe corridor runs straight from the councilwing toward the service doors. Stone underfoot, torch brackets at steadyintervals, the carved screen that marks where the light shifts. I walk it atodd hours because the city’s work can wait and the house’s quiet is easier tohear. Tonight I move with the kind of slowness that keeps muscles ready butdoes not announce it. It’s been a long day. Especially when Darian came backjust after the kitchen’s evening rush to tell me about Lady Selene’s latestscheme to get Esme into trouble. Her scent is the first thing out of place.Soap and rosemary sit at the edge of it, the result of stair-side work. Underthat is a sharper note I don’t like, bitter, close and aged against skin. Itthreads into the air and tells me someone was here and carried something theyshouldn’t have. I follow it with my head before I see her.She is small in the space, only a stepinside the band where torchlight pools. Storm-grey eyes catch mine. They widenin a way that almos

Esme A runner from House Merren appears and thanks Marek at the door with a nod. The child from the rogue attack stands behind her mother on the far side of the hall, too serious for her years. Her gaze catches mine and stays and she lifts her hand in a quick movement and drops it. I can’t lift mine. It feels stuck to the tray.King Ardon’s voice cuts through the noise with a single word to the herald. The staff strikes once for attention. The petition that began in the afternoon must be finished in a smaller circle. He rises and the court adjusts. He doesn’t look at me as he steps down. He doesn’t need to. I feel the attention he keeps even without his eyes on my face.Darian peels off to answer a guard with a ledger and Nixton threads along the wall, testing the gaps in bodies for threats. Lady Selene turns with a smile that shows courtesy and something edged underneath. She glances my way once more, the look holds the promise that she will move pieces I can’t see.“Esme.” Marek’s