Kingdom of 7 Sovereigns: Wolf

by R. C. Reigh

  "Then I command you to kiss me," I squared my shoulders as I replied. I had to know. I had to feel it, and there was only one way to know for sure.

  I stepped toward him.

  His smile widened into a grin and he wrapped his arms around my waist.

  "Your wish is my command." The corner of his lip tilted upward, and then he pressed his mouth to mine.

  I waited for that flutter, that floating feeling that had always been between us, but there was nothing but wet lips and breathing.

  The somewhat sloppy exchange became more fervent against my receptive lips as he leaned into the kiss. A mild warmth fizzled in my chest. Desperate to retrieve what we once had, I pressed my body against Adam’s, unbalancing us for a moment and knocking something off the shelf behind him. As he steadied us, one hand moved up my back and the other down my dress toward my behind.

  I was so caught up in my urgency to recover that wistful feeling he'd once given me that I didn't notice the commotion going on behind us.

  It wasn't until a shrill whistle, somewhat like a catcall, pierced the tension of our encounter that I finally turned my attention to the doorway behind me.

  That was when I realized the door was open.

  Cora

  Holy crow, holy crow, holy freaking crow! I could have killed her for dragging me into this. When Professor Sophorus had noticed me in the hall I had tried to knock on the door to warn them. Now, he stood there staring at the two of them with about fifteen other students who had stopped by to gawk.

  Of course Professor Sophorus had noticed me. Earlier today, I asked him to help me with a tactics interpretation paper I was working on so, naturally, when he saw me standing there by myself not too far from his office door he came over.

  And heard noises.

  And opened the door.

  Oh, gods, this was bad.

  Making out in a closet was a no-no, but making out in a closet as a royal, especially one of whom was betrothed, was political suicide.

  Within five minutes, the three of us had been dragged down to administration. The king and queen of Avonlee were being contacted, as well as Adam's parents.

  "Cora had nothing to do with this professor." Amelia's hazel eyes glanced over to me with a look that was surprisingly merciful given the fact that I had failed to conceal her impromptu closet meeting.

  An unsettling chill coursed through me as a terrible thought crossed my mind. Had she planned for this to happen? Was this her way out?

  "Lady Coranithe, I command you to return to your classes. You are hereby in charge of Avonlee students until further notice," Amelia commanded confidently despite the slight tremble of her chin.

  The professor looked from her to me suspiciously. Maybe it was because he seemed to think well of me, or maybe it was the genuine look of shock on my face that compelled him to nod me off toward the hall. He then ushered Amelia and Adam into a room and closed the door.

  And just like that, I was free to go.

  For a moment, I couldn't force my feet to move. I stared blankly at the solid wood slab that separated my cousin from me, blinking rapidly as if it would wake me from this nightmare, but it wouldn't, because this was real.

  With a deep breath, I stumbled a few steps before finally finding my stride. The truth was that I wasn't even sure where to go. We had never made a plan for this, for what would happen if Amelia and Adam were both removed from their stations. I took another deep breath as I reminded myself this was only temporary. Her father wouldn't really expel her from the Bastion, would he?

  A million thoughts rushed through my brain as I tried to decide what to do next.

  I wandered on through the hallway, unsure where my feet were leading me. I slowly moved past the classrooms, past the massive paintings, but none of it registered. The corridors were empty since the next classes had already started. The thought of returning to my own class seemed like such a trivial idea.

  "Are you just going to stand there?" A gruff voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to find a secondus year Carpathian boy standing in front of me. He had one eyebrow raised at me disapprovingly. It snapped me from my daze, and I realized I was standing in front of the classroom door.

  "Oh, sorry," I replied quietly as I stepped out of his way.

  He harrumphed as he sidestepped me and made his way into his classroom.

  Why did werewolves always have to be such arrogant jerks? A wave of panic rushed over me as the encounter forced a new realization to dawn on me.

  Prince Daneatious.

  What would the prince do? He was going to be furious. Werewolves were temperamental and obnoxious pricks who allowed themselves to be controlled by their massive egos. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that what Amelia had done would send him into a fit of rage, and a wolf with a wounded ego would surely want revenge. Would he demand to break the treaty?

  This was bad. Really, really, bad.

  Amelia

  As fortune would have it, my father had been in Laramidia for a meeting of the court of seven when he received the news. Lucky me.

  The moment I saw the professor's face in that doorway, I had been counting on the long and tedious journey from Avonlee to give my parents some time to compose themselves and be rational. Of course, it was too much to ask for me to be so fortunate.

  The great King Simmion of Avonlee was currently circling one of the massive dining tables in the consortium as he berated me. Worry lines wrinkled his forehead beneath his head of shoulder-length blond hair. Although, these days, the ever increasing streaks of white scattered throughout it showed his age.

  "This is not like you, Amelia. You've always been so well behaved. Your ethics are of the highest standard. I might have expected something like this of your older sister or maybe younger sister," he shook his head, "definitely your brother in his younger years, but not you.'" He stopped in front of me.

  Of course, he had left Reesa off the list. My second eldest sister had declined to attend the Bastion and committed herself to the temple, instead. In doing so, she could do no wrong in my father's eyes. Oh, how I envied her choice.

  "What were you thinking?" Veins bulged near his temples as he glared at me.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but he had already started in again and returned to his parade around the convocation room.

  "It took me nine years to convince Grimmnon to finally sign a formal treaty between our realms. Nine years, Amelia!" His face was a shade of red I'd never thought was humanly possible. "How could you let that boy convince you to do something so stupid?" he spat with a furrowed brow.

  "It wasn't his fault, father. I commanded him to do it," I kept my voice clear as I responded. I had to help protect Adam. He would suffer great ridicule in Avonlee, and the least I could do for him was own up to my bad decision. I'd already cost him his chance at remaining the Bastion.

  My father's eyes nearly bulged from his head.

  "What?” he roared. "Why would you do something so foolish?"

  "Father, I don't want to marry Prince Daneatious. I don't want anything to do with the wolves. I've never wanted to be their queen," I managed to squeak out. It should have been a relief to finally admit the truth, but not like this.

  "Well, that's too damn bad. You had better marry him, or you will ruin everything. That is, if he's even still willing. So help me if you destroy the treaty--" he stopped short of finishing his sentence. My heart plummeted as the first tear trickled down my cheek.

  “Help me to understand, father? Why would you have even put such a requirement in the treaty?" My voice trembled, and his proud shoulders sagged.

  "That was Grimmnon's condition, not mine. Did you honestly think I would want to force this on my child if I had the choice?" His calloused fingers pinched the bridge of his nose before he returned his gaze to me. The remorse in his eyes was visible.

  For a moment, I wanted to ask ‘Why me?’ Why hadn't he made the arrangement for Reesa? But the more I thought about it, I realized I
didn't really know if I wanted to hear his answer.

  He began pacing again.

  "I need to start damage control, beg him for mercy," he mumbled to himself as he stroked his short beard.

  For several minutes he strategized before he made his way to the door. He turned to me before opening it.

  "I'm sorry that it's not what you want, Amelia, but this is so much bigger than the two of you." His voice was stern.

  The irony was not lost on me that his words were almost exactly what Dane had said to me weeks before. Everyone other than me was operating from the same set of tactics.

  As he stepped out of the consortium to dictate his correspondence to Dane, two letters flew in through from the hallway. Both raced to me immediately.

  The first was a folded piece of paper that bore the regal seal of Avonlee, which meant it was from my mother. It was hard enough knowing I'd upset my father, but hurting my mother had a different kind of emotional weight to it.

  While my father was a man of might, my mother was a woman of words. She wielded them like a warrior swung his battle-ax, true to their target, swift in execution, and capable of inflicting immense pain on their victim.

  My hands trembled as I unfolded her beautiful stationery. True to her talent, her elegant handwriting conveyed the depth of her heartbreak and disappointment in my actions and, by the end, I was once again in tears.

  I plucked the second letter from the air. This one was folded into the shape of a hawk. As I placed it in my other hand, it flapped its wings once before resting in my palm. I didn't need to see the emblem to know that it bore the Prince of Avonlee's mark. I opened the correspondence.

  My Dearest Sister,

  I hope this letter finds you in the most humble and repentant state.

  In light of recent events, I felt it necessary to write to make clear to you, in no uncertain terms, that if something were to happen to our father because of the stress you have caused, that I will banish the Viscount’s son to the wasteland beyond our realm and revel in the idea of goblins feasting on his flesh.

  Sincerest regards,

  Your brother,

  Ephraim

  So much for compassion from the future king of Avonlee. It was as if a fissure had finally torn itself through the last piece of my broken heart. Tears began to stream down my face as I folded the letters and set them aside.

  There were only two things I could do now. Wait, and pray that I hadn't just started a war.

  DANE

  I was sparring with Ellis when an official-looking letter flew in, diverting my attention from the fight. Ivan grabbed it from the air, and after a brief glance at the folded paper, his gaze quickly snapped toward me. Taking advantage of my distraction, Ellis landed a stiff kick to my chest, forcing me back a few feet and knocking the wind from me. He chuckled.

  "Nice shot," I coughed as the air filled my lungs again. "Break." I motioned toward the benches with one hand as I rubbed the fist of the other against my sternum.

  Ivan handed the letter to me straight away. The Avonleean seal and mark of the king? I tore it open and read. It was a summons. He was here and requesting to meet at my first convenience at the Avonleean towers. Could this mean what I think it did?

  "Looks like we are done for the day, boys. Hit the baths, and make it fast. We are about to meet a king," I instructed.

  Ivan and Ellis exchanged a glance at one another before they dutifully followed my command.

  As we gathered up our gear and departed the arena, I had to wonder if Amelia had contacted him or if the witch had already made good on our bargain.

  Within half an hour, we were announced at the Avonlee tower, and my emissaries were instructed to wait outside for my private audience with the king.

  As I entered the room, I gave a casual glance around the space. King Simmion was standing near a table with a bevy of crystal decanters. His features were set to an expression that could only be conceived as worry. Amelia had averted her eyes to the floor.

  Damn, the witch worked fast. I stifled my smugness and did my best to look as if it were a surprise and happy honor to meet my future father-in-law.

  "I suppose you are aware of why I have called you here this evening," Simmion said as he pulled the stopper from one of the darker bottles and poured a considerable amount into his cup. I recognized the lettering of the name on the label. It was stiff stuff.

  A flicker of assurance crossed my mind. This had to be what I was expecting.

  "Your majesty?" I tilted my head and glanced from him to Amelia and back again. Then, I shook my head. "I'm afraid I am at a loss as to the reason for the pleasure of your visit. I've been looking forward to this for some time."

  "I doubt like this," Simmion muttered into his chalice before taking a deep swig.

  "Sir?" I asked, playing coy, even though he was wrong. I had been waiting for this since the second I met his daughter, the moment I would finally hear the relationship with that human boy had ended once and for all.

  "Well then, Amelia, why don't you do us the horror of informing Prince Daneatious what transpired this afternoon?"

  He was angry, very angry.

  With a hard swallow, Amelia started into the explanation, all the while refusing to make eye contact with me. I'm sure her version of events omitted certain salacious details, but I got the gist.

  Well, well, well. I had been right on the money, hadn't I?

  The heat of anger bubbled up inside of me as she spoke. At least I didn't have to fake that, too. I clenched my fists. Regardless of whether I had anticipated it or not, her actions infuriated me nonetheless.

  The king turned his defeated gaze to me.

  "I have sent the boy back to Avonlee, where he will serve out the remainder of the term. He will not be returning to the Bastion." He shook his head and rubbed at the bridge of his nose before he spoke again, "I hope that there may be some way that we could handle this indiscretion without breaking our long-standing treaty or involving Grimmnon. However, if you should wish to notify him and conduct a more formal negotiation on the matter with your father present, I will understand." His eyes turned downcast, and his jaw tensed as he awaited my reply.

  "You are certain her virtue remains intact?" I stared down my nose at Amelia before turning my glare back to him.

  The king's face flushed red, and his jaw slacked. It was clear he hadn't thought to ask her that question before he brought me here. What's worse is that for the briefest of moments his features contorted into that of worry before returning to embarrassed defeat once again.

  Amelia's head snapped up to me, and she glared at me in pure outrage.

  "How dare you?" she seethed. "Father--"

  "Answer him," the king cut her off mid-sentence. His back was still turned to his daughter as he spoke, but I could see that his face conveyed pure misery.

  "Of course I haven't. . ." Amelia tried to defend herself with pink stained cheeks. "Nothing like that. . ." In her discomfort, she awkwardly fumbled for the right words. "My virtue remains very much intact," she finally managed.

  I had intended to embarrass her with the question and succeeded, but still, it brought me surprisingly little satisfaction. Her father was visibly less tense having heard her reply, but until I gave him my answer, his disquiet would not be satiated. I glared at them both for a few moments before I spoke.

  "If you will keep her behavior under control and you can guarantee there will be no future indiscretions, I see no reason to end the agreement that has been a prosperous union for both of our kingdoms."

  I strode toward her until I was towering over her. Her father made no motion to stop me.

  Amelia turned her face away, unwilling to look at me.

  "While I take great personal offense that she would seek to wound my pride right under my nose and in such a public place as the Bastion, under the eyes of all the seven kingdoms, no less, I believe that our alliance is more valuable than my pride."

  The king let out an au
dible exhale of relief as he rose to shake my hand.

  "Thank you, Daneatious. That is quite merciful of you in light of the situation." His kind eyes bore their gratitude into me and for a few moments, I felt bad for him.

  I fought to maintain my rigid composure as the king continued to feverishly thank and bestow endless compliments on me.

  Witnessing the king nearly beg me for mercy had been difficult to watch. I hadn't ever wanted that. Simmion was a good king who commanded respect, but he also understood what Amelia didn't; lives were at stake.

  For Simmion, it was the lives of his people.

  For me, it was our life together, Amelia's and my own.

  "If that is all, I will take my leave," I ground out, and King Simmion bowed his head in farewell. I gave them both a curt nod before I turned on my heel and left the room.

  As I emerged into the hall, a surge of relief overcame me. It was finally over. There wasn't a soul within a hundred miles from here who would risk getting involved with her now.

  Ivan and Ellis dutifully followed behind me in silence as I headed toward the Carpathian towers. By the time we reached the entrance, my anger had nearly subsided, and a victorious smile spread across my face.

  Deep inside, I hated what I had done, but at least Amelia was alive and would remain so.

  Amelia

  Clutching my books to my chest, I made my way through the busy hallway toward the library. Upon discovering my interest in healing, Lady Celeste of the Fae Kingdom of Lorenia, had graciously invited me to join in the weekly study and practice sessions she was conducting with her emissaries. I had attended only a handful of meetings thus far, but my ability had improved greatly, and even more so, I was thankful for the distraction from the stain on my reputation.