The Princess's Second Life
The older ones shook their heads, muttering about shame and impropriety.
At the high table, her father’s face was carved from stone. He did not speak to her.
Her mother leaned close, voice taut with warning. “Do not let them be right, Elara. You are a princess of this house. Remember that.”
Elara swallowed hard, nodding. But her wolf bristled against the words. Princess or not, she was a mate. And her bond was not with Kieran.
Across the hall, Serenya met her eyes and offered a sympathetic smile, as if she too were burdened by the weight of rumors. Elara returned it with equal grace, though bile burned her throat. Friend. The word was poison now.