Marriage Alliance With The Lycan Monarch

We were led by the handmaids along the majestic corridors. It was hard to make out any detail, only when the lightning flickered through, and showed me just how much a part of a wall cost a fortune.

After what seemed like forever, we finally made it to a place with candles lit on every chandelier, and my eyes felt tainted from taking in such a view.

The ceilings were so high up that we were like ants. Paintings adorned them too. I caught a glimpse of a Lycan form as well as many others, and the way they were put together told a story.

The windows were high up as well as the curtains, and it made me wonder how they cleaned that thing, or the chandeliers for that matter.

Everything before my eyes was a luxury I never thought I would experience in my entire life. I was thankful once again for the clothes given to me because the gods knew I would have resembled a beggar.

The longer we walked, the more nervous I got, with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Sir Garrick."

"Your Grace."

"You don't sound optimistic."

"Because I'm not."

"I understand," I cleared my throat. "Do this lady a kind gesture and tell me shortly about the Dowager. What are the things I should avoid?"

"What awaits you is a mystery, but I'll do my best to keep you alive, as per the monarch's orders."

He kept mentioning the latter as a reminder to me that he was doing this out of duty. I don't blame him, though; there was no reason he would protect me personally.

Gods! I feel more like a nervous wreck; each step I took toward the unknown was akin to walking with a stone tied to the back of my legs. Walking down the aisle certainly didn't feel like this; this was far worse.

We came to a halt in front of a door that looked as if it had been forged with pure gold.

"Dowager, the human is here."

"Let her in," a stern voice came through.

The doors spread open, and the moment I stepped in, a strange feeling crammed into me and made me stop.

What's this? It felt like the entire place was closing in around me, strangling and trapping me in.

I broke a sweat, my body shaking not from a cold, but something else entirely, I couldn't explain.

I looked briefly at Garrick, who remained standing tall, unaffected. Whatever this was, he couldn't feel it, only I did.

"My son's Beta is accompanying the human? What insult is this?"

"Your Majesty," Garrick gave a bow and thrust his clasped hand forward. "It was an order from the monarch."

"You should be by my son's side; that is where your duty lies, not monitoring trivial things."

I raised my gaze as the lighting flickered through that instant. In front of a gigantic window was a tall chair that shone from the lights, and on that seat was the Dowager.

Age was kind to her because she didn't look like she had birthed Drevon. Her features were sharp and screamed that no-nonsense countenance. Her dark hair was thick and full, packed together by golden hairpins. Her eyes were charcoal grey, with a glow to them.

She was dressed in garments that outmatched everything, the gods knew how expensive that material was alone, and it made me realize that the maids were indeed clothed to their status, even though it was the same level as how noble maidens in Beloria dressed.

The Dowager clutched a teacup and brought it close to her lips, eyeing me silently. No, she wasn't. That feeling earlier that felt as if it would drain my breath came from her.

In my line of vision, she was like a colossal energy, shrinking the air and everything else around me. My knees buckled and I almost fell if Garrick hadn't placed a hand on the small of my back to brace me.

I had no idea where I found the bravery to curtsy and give my respect.

"Your Majesty, I'm pleased to meet you. My name is Eloise Balthar."

"Balthar?" I could hear the mockery in her tone. "The lowly human thinks she is worthy of that name."

I'm trembling, and I can't stop. I'm not affected by her words but by her presence. It's killing me.

"Stand properly," she commanded. "Let me see you."

I don't want to. My mind was screaming at me to run. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through my nose and remind myself that I was still alive.

"Is she deaf?"

"No, Your Majesty. If I may implore that you release your—"

"Silence!" she hissed. "Leave."

There was a moment's pause, but Garrick left, the door slamming shut.

The strain got worse, and I found myself feeling faint, black dots coating my vision. Whatever she was doing was paralyzing me to the core; the last thing I wanted was to faint in her midst.

I fought through it and straightened my back, my face beaded in sweat as I rasped.

It felt like my skin was punctured as she observed me from head to toe. "So this is the wife my son brings home. They gave him a broken one, she looks so frail, and that ghastly looking hair," she commented as if speaking to another.

There was someone else in the room.

"Your Majesty, please release your command, the poor girl will not be able to survive for much longer," a tender voice came through.

Suddenly, the pressure in the air lifted, and I released a sharp exhale, my mind finally having a hold on my body.

What happened to me?

"Greetings."

I followed the voice and found a young woman sitting. She was gorgeous, like those rare beauties you see only once. Beautiful ginger hair and mesmerizing amber eyes.

With a polite smile, she introduced herself. "Pleased to meet you, I'm Lady Sloane Altherin, Drevon's betrothed."