"Young man?!" the guard snapped, pressing his sword even closer to Kisha’s neck. "How dare you address the Queen’s consort in such a disrespectful manner? You have absolutely no right to speak to Her Majesty’s royal consort that way!"
"Queen consort?!" Kisha gasped, her eyes widening with disbelief as a mixture of shock, terror, and confusion flooded her face. "What do you mean by that?"
"Let go of her," came a calm yet authoritative voice.
Rhys stepped forward, his presence commanding. At once, the guard withdrew his sword, stepping back in deference. Rhys extended his hand to Kisha, who hesitated for a moment before grasping it. He gently helped her to her feet. Tears were now streaming down her cheeks, her body trembling slightly from the close encounter.
"You’re the Queen’s consort?" Kisha asked, her voice quivering, her brows raised in curiosity and disbelief. "The favored one... the one all the palace maids whisper about?"
Rhys gave a soft chuckle, his smile disarming and warm. "Yes, I am. Though I wasn’t aware I was so popular." he said, his gaze drifting toward Anaya. "I heard that the lady over there is the Queen’s niece..."
Before he could finish his sentence, he noticed Anaya suddenly wobble on her chair. Her body tilted dangerously, her knees giving out.
"Princess!" he shouted, dashing toward her just in time to catch her as she collapsed. She fell into his arms like a fragile doll, trembling as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.
"Your Highness!" Kisha cried, rushing forward and checking Anaya’s body for any visible injuries. Her hands trembled as they hovered over her mistress’s arms and shoulders. "Do you really want to hurt yourself like this?" she whispered, anguished.
Anaya, however, seemed lost in another world. Her tears continued to fall, and her hands...delicate and cold began caressing Rhys’s face. The touch was intimate, desperate, and full of silent longing, sending a wave of discomfort and confusion through him.
"You’re safe now... So why are you still crying?" Rhys asked, his brows furrowing. "And this... this touch...." he gently tried to pull back, "Isn’t it inappropriate?"
Turning to Kisha with puzzled concern, he added, "You should take care of your princess."
He moved to hand Anaya over, but she clung to his robe with astonishing strength, her fingers tightening like shackles.
"What’s wrong, Princess?" he murmured gently. "You might strangle me if you keep holding my robe this tight."
Kisha’s eyes welled with tears as she finally spoke, her voice soft and mournful. "My lady... she cannot speak. She cannot see, nor hear. The only way she recognizes people is through scent."
A heavy silence settled over the room.
Kisha continued, her voice trembling, "I believe... I believe she’s taken a liking to you. Something about your scent... it must remind her of someone....someone precious to her. That’s likely why she’s crying so hard... why she refuses to let you go."
Rhys’s expression faltered, sorrow seeping into his features. "But we’ve never met. This is the first time I’ve ever seen either of you. How could my scent possibly remind her of someone she once knew?" he said, the despair in his tone matching the grief in Anaya’s trembling form.
"Please, Your Highness," Kisha pleaded, falling to her knees in front of him, her tears spilling freely now. "Let her hold on to you. Just for a little while. You may not know her, but she seems to find comfort in you. That means more than you could possibly understand."
Rhys swallowed hard, his throat tightening with emotion. "Lead me to her room," he said quietly. "I don’t want rumours spreading around by tomorrow because of where we are right now."
Without hesitation, he lifted Anaya into his arms in a careful bridal carry. Kisha led the way through the quiet halls until they reached the princess’s chamber.
Inside the softly lit room, Rhys walked to the bed and gently laid Anaya down. As he made to stand, her grip on his robe tightened once more.
He sighed in frustration, casting a glance toward the door. "I really have to go before the Queen returns from the hunt. I’m forbidden from entering another woman’s chambers, and yet here I am. I only did this because of her condition..."
But her grip didn’t loosen. Instead, it grew stronger, like she feared being left alone in the dark again.
Rhys stared down at her, torn. Finally, with a weary sigh, he sat back beside her, letting her fingers hold him like a lifeline.
*****
Meanwhile, back in Lupien’s Pack...
The morning sun spilled golden light through the curtains, casting a soft, warm glow across the pale face of a sleeping woman.
Beside her sat Dimitri, his large hand wrapped gently around hers. Silent tears slipped down his cheeks...mtears he quickly wiped away before anyone could see.
"Your Highness," a quiet voice broke the silence. Liam, who had been standing beside Dimitri in composed silence until now, finally spoke.
His tone carried disbelief, and a flicker of something more...perhaps concern. "You have court today... It’s nearly time."
But Dimitri didn’t look away from Sorayah’s face. The grief in his eyes was deep and unshakable.
And Liam, despite his training and restraint, could not help but wonder...
Why would the beta lord be crying?
He didn’t want to believe it was because of Sorayah. He refused to accept that possibility. She hadn’t opened her eyes since last night, and he dared not ask Dimitri the question that had been haunting him.
What was the point of asking, anyway, when Dimitri would certainly not give him an answer?
"I won’t be going to court today, Liam," Dimitri finally said, his voice low and heavy. "Tell the maids to prepare some fresh food and drinks, so Sorayah can eat when she wakes up."
"They’ve already done that, Your Highness," Liam replied, swallowing hard. "They even preheated the food just as you commanded, but it’s gone cold again. They’ll need to heat it once more."
"Tell them to prepare something fresh," Dimitri said firmly, his tone like a blade cutting through the air. "They can throw the old food away. Reheating it multiple times has drained it of all flavor."
His words sent a wave of shock and unease rippling down Liam’s spine.
"This is the third time the kitchen has prepared meals just for Sorayah," Liam said, his voice tinged with frustration despite his effort to remain composed. "Every time, you tell us to discard the food after it’s been reheated. Maybe it would be best to wait until she actually wakes up, then the maids can cook something warm and fresh for her."
"I own the food. I own the servants. I own this entire mansion," Dimitri snapped, his eyes darkening. "If I give an order, I expect it to be carried out without question. Are the servants complaining? If they are, then kill them...let them serve as examples to the rest if they prove to be useless."
His voice rose with sudden fury, and Liam instinctively took a step back, fear now mingling with his earlier frustration.
"Go out there now and have fresh food prepared. I won’t say it again."
"Yes, Your Highness," Liam responded quickly, giving a deep bow before turning on his heels and hurrying out of the room, leaving Dimitri and Sorayah alone once again.
The room grew silent.
Dimitri slowly turned his gaze back to Sorayah, his expression softening as he reached for her hand. He held it tightly, his fingers trembling against her pale skin.
"Are you really not going to open your eyes?" he whispered, his voice nearly cracking. "Last night... I left the mansion because I wanted to protect you. I stayed in the shadows, following you, making sure nothing touched you despite the effect of the full moon on me."
His eyes lowered, lashes trembling with guilt.
"I thought... even if I lost my sanity, I could at least direct the bloodlust elsewhere. I could kill animals... or slaves who had no purpose left."
He paused, clenching his jaw.
"But then... there was a trap. I fell into it. A nest of venomous snakes. I was bitten multiple times, but I managed to kill them all before the venom clouded my thoughts. Even then, I kept thinking about you. About how you’d escape safely."
His voice grew softer, hoarser, the pain evident.
"But then... you fell into the pit. And I... I didn’t recognize you. I didn’t know it was you, the woman I swore to protect. And instead of saving you... I bit you."
He let out a strangled breath, another tear sliding down his cheek.
"How foolish I am... But thank the moon goddess your blood is powerful. It pulled me back from the edge, just enough not to drain you dry. Just enough to stop me from killing you."
He looked down at her hand, pressing it gently to his lips.
"You’re my medicine, Sorayah," he murmured. "I will never be whole...never be sane without you by my side. So please... open your eyes."
He lowered his head to the edge of the bed, resting it there as though in surrender. "This isn’t an order. It’s a plea."