"You know, Sage, you might just be right." Isla spoke in awe, looking around the Queen’s palace as we came down from the car.
Her voice carried that blend of mischief and wonder that was uniquely hers. "I might just enjoy being your best friend, sidekick, whatever tag you give me, in this madness of yours."
Madness. That was Isla’s choice of words, when I gave her a rundown of the story, the sieved-out version where my life had been almost snuffed out by the lycan’s kingdom, and the insane urge to retaliate, to get my revenge no matter the odds stacked against me.
And when she rubbed her palms together, smiling and relaxing into her seat, I knew I had chosen the right person. Isla Woodson would be my pretend best friend, and maybe an ally when all this was over. The rıghtful source is NovelHub(.)net
My trust wasn’t an easy commodity to earn anymore. I didn’t even trust my own self.
"Oh my... is that..." Isla’s voice trailed off.
"Yes, gold," I answered blandly, though I too was surprised by the enhanced glamour of the palace, including the changes I had seen when I entered the community—even though Raul had told me that everything had stayed the same.
Men are never good storytellers.
The community had adopted more human inventions, more resources. Cars were no longer a strange sight in the community, nor other conserving-energy items; it was like they were saving their magic energy for something else—maybe war.
I winked at Raul when I noticed he was staring, gauging my reaction to his mother’s extravagance.
But I really didn’t care for all these things. I just wanted one thing, and that was the heads of the triplets, the downfall of the lycan’s region in total, their abject misery...
I turned leisurely, as a proud royal would, toward the sound of the Queen’s voice, eyes remaining ever bland as I noticed the welcoming party she had brought out of the palace with her.
Remaining at the same spot, I let a small smile creep to my lips when Raul nudged my shoulder softly—I shouldn’t be as a rock to my mother-in-law.
"Hope you had a beautiful journey, and Raul here didn’t bore you with stories..." she asked after pleasantries were exchanged.
"I had a pleasant journey, my Queen, and Raul could never bore me."
Not with those brain-fogging encounters that left me weak on the bed, on him, on the chair, or whatever surface we found ourselves on.
The Queen smiled widely, and gestured to the people behind her. "They are here to welcome you."
I could tell who knew my real identity from the undisguised look of surprise on their faces—just about a few. Then my gaze landed on my family. Laura. Peter. Diana.
Unlike the others, they had the same bland look I had somehow perfected, unmoved by the charade, unmoved by my presence, my return. But that was because I was no longer their duty, not to the people of the community. I was Raul’s bride. A stranger.
It would be weird, suspicious, if I suddenly grew close to Diana again. That was one of the reasons I had brought Isla along.
"This is the community’s powerful doctor," the Queen made introductions.
And I watched as Laura and my family bowed low, as Diana’s blandness shifted to something I couldn’t explain.
She had outgrown her small stature, which had once made me think her younger in my first days in the community. But at fifteen, she was tall like her father—tall in the way girls were tall—and strikingly beautiful. Her eyes were yet as sharp as they had been, yet as seeing, yet as entrancing. My sister.
But my eyes flitted past them to the next group of people the Queen introduced me to, without acknowledging their bows. I needed to keep up my image. There would be plenty of time for reunion later.
"I thought it wouldn’t end," Isla muttered, dumping her buttocks on my bed, lying thereafter on the soft mattress. "This and that... like you are really a royal from another country."
I chuckled. "But I am really a royal from another country, to them. Better get used to it."
I muttered this while taking a glance around the large room designated for my stay in the palace. It was massive.
The first thing I noticed was the bed—an enormous canopy draped with silken sheets the color of cream and gold, soft enough to swallow anyone whole. A chandelier of crystal hung overhead, scattering flecks of light across the walls that were painted a pale ivory, lined with elegant carvings of roses and vines.
Heavy curtains framed the windows, their deep maroon fabric embroidered with threads of silver, thick enough to block out both sunlight and moonlight if I wished.
To the left stood a carved wardrobe, its doors polished to a sheen, tall enough to hold a hundred dresses. A mirror as tall as a person leaned against the wall beside it, its frame gilded, almost daring me to step closer. The floor was covered by a lush rug with intricate designs of crowns and stars, soft beneath my feet as I walked deeper into the chamber.
Through an adjoining door, I found an ensuite bath. The walls shimmered faintly with runes, keeping the air perfumed with lavender and fresh water flowing endlessly. The tub was large enough to be a pool, lined with porcelain so smooth it reflected like glass.
Another door opened into a smaller attached room—a personal library. Shelves lined with old texts and scrolls curved around the walls. In the center stood a desk and chair, elegant but functional, as though inviting me to sit and plan my next move.
A refrigerator, tucked neatly beside the shelves, hummed softly, stocked with fruits and bottles of wine. Every detail whispered luxury, power, and indulgence—an unspoken reminder of the Queen’s wealth.
"She went all out..." Isla said from behind me, awe clear in her voice.
I shrugged, forcing indifference. "It was needed."
We both turned when a knock sounded on the door.
"Come in," I spoke, smiling when two servants rolled in a trolley filled with food and drinks.
"You are right, Sage... I am really going to enjoy this," Isla said, her eyes widening at the display.