Paying Respects

*Rowan*

Hezzlie is still out like a light when I wake up the next morning. Even I slept a little later than normal. The sun is up. It’s hard to tell because the curtains are drawn in her bedroom, but there’s a slight sliver in the corner that tells me I need to get out of bed.

The only problem is my arm is trapped.

I look down at her where she rests on my bicep, all curled up with her dark hair fanning out around her beautiful face. She looks like an angel–a dark angel, perhaps. I don’t think we have any idea how truly powerful she will be once she can harness the power from the moonstones and use them consistently rather than depleting her own energy, but I need to make sure Veronica is gone before we dig too far into that idea or else we could end up with another enemy who is aware of the power we possess buried beneath the mansion.

I could just lie here and wait for my beautiful fiancee to open her eyes. That might lead to her letting me pick up where we left off before her father’s soldiers so rudely interrupted us.

But thinking about the attack reminds me that I have a lot to do, and most of it shouldn’t wait one moment longer. Extricating myself from beneath her isn’t easy, but I manage to slide my arm out and slip out of the bed without her waking. She does make a little noise in the back of her throat that a less dignified man might call adorable, but not me. I’m too guarded and grumpy for that.

Once I’m free, I head to my room where I take a quick shower and then immediately head down to the infirmary to check on the wounded. I will also pay a visit to the families who lost husbands and sons yesterday. That’s the worst part about being the king, but I make myself do it because that’s what my father used to do, and that’s what’s right.

In the infirmary, I walk around giving pep talks to the wounded, shaking hands, and giving them encouraging words. Some of them are more upset about seeing their friends die than their own wounds. James is taking good care of them both physically and mentally, though. It’s good that our pack healer is also a psychiatrist.

I decide to walk to the village where the warriors who died lived. It’s not too far from the mansion, and I could use the fresh air. It’s different, walking in my human form, than it is running as a wolf. I see things differently from this perspective. Even though my wolf eyesight is better than my human vision, I’ve got a different vantage point. I can also slow down and take things in. For example, I notice Marjorie’s winter flowers are about to blossom when I walk past her front yard. I see that William has a new leaf blower. I wave to each of them and everyone else I pass and am just about to the first house when I hear heavy footsteps behind me.

I turn to see Dean hustling to catch up with me. “You walk fast for a human,” he says, puffing a little.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask, my tone light. “I figured you’d be with Abby.”

His face lights up at the mention of her name. “I was but Wilma told me that you were going out to visit the families, so I thought I should go with you.”

“That Wilma.” I shake my head. “She always knows everything and doesn’t hesitate to tell anyone. I didn’t even tell her I was leaving.”

He shrugs. “One of the maids probably told her. Did you eat breakfast?”

“No. I sort of forgot,” I admit, my stomach rumbling.

“Well, it wouldn’t have been anyone in the kitchen who told her, but she does have eyes and ears all over the mansion.” He snickers. It’s a long standing joke that you shouldn’t say anything in front of Wilma that you don’t want the whole pack to know.

We aren’t laughing anymore as we approach the house of Brandon Jones, one of the wolves we lost last night. This is where his wife, Trudy, and their family live. I knock on the door and think I hear sniffling as someone approaches. 

It’s not Trudy who opens the door but her sister, Lily. “Oh, Your Majesty.” She bows low, but I motion for her to stop.

“No need for that, Lily. I’m here to pay my condolences to Brandon’s family.” I nod my head as memories of a bright young man just a few years older than me flash through my mind. He had a lot to live for, but now he’s gone.

“Yes, of course, Alpha.” She gestures for us to come in. “Beta Dean, nice to see you.”

“You as well.” Even Dean has managed to put his normal jovial disposition aside.

Lily shows me into the small sitting area of the house where Trudy has her head buried in her mother’s shoulder. She’s holding their baby, which is only a few months old. Their daughter, Matilda, who I believe is three, is sitting on the floor, holding a doll.

“Alpha!” Trudy’s mother, Caroline, says, starting to stand.

“Please, don’t get up,” I tell all of them, holding my hands out in front of me. “I just came to tell you all how very sorry I am.”

Trudy turns her face toward me. Swollen and puffy, her eyes red, it’s clear she’s been crying ever since she got the news. “I can’t believe he’s gone,” she says, holding a tattered tissue to her nose as fresh tears begin to fall.

“I’m so very sorry,” I tell them. “Brandon was a wonderful warrior. A good man. We are all better off having known him. He was a hero who gave his life so that others weren’t hurt or killed. His name will be written on the wall of the Moon Goddess’ temple, and he will take his place amongst the great warriors who have sacrificed everything for our kingdom.”

I see the proud look in both of the women’s eyes, but it’s not enough. No amount of accolades or inscriptions can bring back the man they lost. 

Now isn’t the time to bring up the compensation they will be given. Anyone who dies in service to the crown continues to have their salary paid until their spouse has also passed away. If there are children left behind, heaven forbid, we continue to care for them as well. But right now, Trudy Jones isn’t thinking about money. She’s just missing her husband, the father of their children.

“We heard about your engagement, Alpha,” Caroline says. “We are all so very excited to meet the future Luna Queen.” 

Mention of Hezzlie lifts my spirits, though I try no to let them see just how enamored with her I am. How inappropriate for me to be beaming over my soon-to-be spouse when the woman before me has just lost hers.

“I am excited for everyone to meet her,” I tell Caroline. “I’m sure that you will all love her. She’s a wonderful person.”

“Is she a pwincess?” Matilda asks, reaching up and taking my hand.

I’m startled at first. Most of the children in the pack are frightened of me. I think it’s because I’m usually gruff and unapproachable. But she’s slid her tiny fingers around mine without a moment’s hesitation.

I kneel down so that I’m at eye-level with her. “She is a princess,” I tell the little girl. “She’s a beautiful princess, and soon, she’ll be a queen.”

Matilda’s face lights up. It’s clear she’s not capable of understanding all of this right now, though close inspection of her little face makes me think she has also been crying at some point. “When I gwow up, I wanna be a pwincess, too.”

Everyone chuckles at that, and I pat her on the head. “I believe, Matilda, that when you grow up, you can be anything you’d like.”

Her face brightens, and she squeezes my hand before she sits down next to her mother on the couch, still clutching her doll.

We say our goodbyes, and I walk out of the Jones’s house with Dean beside me.

“Damn,” he says, when we’re back out on the street and heading to the next home. “You’ve changed, my friend.”

I turn and look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve always been polite when you go to talk to the families of the fallen, but this time, you were relatable. You were… like a real human being, not some stuffy noble who was just going about his duties. I think Hezzlie has really changed you.”

I stare at him for a moment, not sure what to say. I hadn’t realized I’d been like that before, but it does make sense. From the time that my father was killed until I had Hezzlie back in my arms, all I could think about was revenge. Nothing mattered to me except for getting King Solomon back.

Now, while I still want that man dead, there are other things I want, too.

Like a wife–a queen–Hezzlie by my side forever.

And, after speaking to Matilda, maybe a little girl.

With raven black hair.