Enemies and Friends

*Rowan*

Fucking mind-link! Did she hear that? All those miles away?
Well, if I heard her, there’s a good chance she heard me, too. As an Alpha King, I should be able to turn that off completely so I can’t hear her, and she can’t accidentally hear me, but clearly there’s something different about the mind-link I have with Hezzlie. I’ll just have to be more careful not to let my thoughts get ahead of what’s best for me again.
With Mara in her room resting, I go to my office and personally call all twelve Alphas who preside over the villages in my kingdom to invite them to the ball this evening. It takes a few hours to do so because they all want to talk about Mara and how we managed to get her back. I decide to be vague and tell them we negotiated a deal. I do not tell them about Hezzlie. I try not to think about Hezzlie. It’s difficult because my chest aches like there’s a knife sticking out of it. While I’ve never been stabbed in the chest, I do know a little bit about having a knife in my torso–unfortunately.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned that she’s over there. She truly has no idea how awful her father is, despite me telling her what he’s done to our kingdom–for no reason. It’s hard to grasp that anyone could be that evil for no good reason. The truth of the matter is I have no idea why he acted the way that he did. My father and King Solomon were not exactly friends, but the attack was completely unexpected. Then, he just kept my sister and never made another attempt to attack us, though I did receive taunting phone calls. I can’t imagine he killed my father and kidnapped my sister just for spite.
So what else does he want?
A knock on the door has me losing my train of thought. I know it’s Dean before I call for him to come in, before he saunters over to my desk. I stare at him, waiting for him to say something I’m not going to like.
But he just looks sad.
“I’ve called all the Alpha in the kingdom. They’re all excited for the ball,” I tell him.
He nods, his jaw working, like he’s trying to figure out what to say to me. I know he came in here for a reason, and it’s not like him to seek me out and then not speak his mind.
So I wait.
Finally, he shakes his head and says, “I don’t like this, Rowan. Not one bit.”
I give him a moment to see if he has something else to say, but that seems to be it. “I know you liked her,” I begin.
“It’s not even that.” He sighs and runs a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m scared for her. I don’t like her being over there with that evil man. Even if she is his daughter, that doesn’t mean that he won’t do something to her. The best case scenario would be that he tries to trade her off to some maniac in another kingdom. The worst would be that he tries to weaponize her. You’ve got to be feeling this, man. She marked you.”
I make a motion for him to shut up. The last thing I need is people verbalizing the fact that she’s my mate and I bear her mark. “I’m fine,” I reassure him, ignoring the pain that makes me feel like my heart is ripping in two.
He shakes his head again. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, right? It’s just going to get worse the longer she’s gone from you. And what the hell is the deal with Mara?”
Suddenly, I feel very defensive. “There’s nothing wrong with Mara!” I tell him. “She’s fine. Just tired. But happy to be home.”
HIs green eyes widen, and he just stares at me, like I’ve said something absolutely ridiculous–which isn’t far from the truth.
He knows better than to try bringing up my sister again, so he doesn’t. “Well, I think we made a huge mistake. I’ve tried mind-linking with her, but I can’t. She’s too far away. I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.”
Now, it’s my turn to be surprised. “You can’t mind-link with her?”
“No. Why? Can you?” He leans a bit forward in his chair.
“I haven’t tried,” I lie. “I just thought maybe someone here could.”
“Well, I hope everything works out in the end for everyone involved because if something happens to her….” All he can do is shake his head.
“If I didn’t know any better, I'd think she was your mate.” I’m trying to lighten the mood by making a joke, but I’m also serious. In fact, even the idea of him wanting to be Hezzlie’s mate makes me want to jump over the table and knock him out of that chair.
“I wish,” he mutters. “You could do a lot worse than Hezzlie Stone.”
My wolf growls deep inside me, and I envision myself tearing his throat out.
Luckily for him, he gets up and walks out of the room. It’s not his normal gait, though. His shoulders are slumped, and he’s looking at the floor.
As soon as he’s gone, I drop my head onto the desk, clutching my chest. It hurts, and I can’t keep denying it. But there is absolutely nothing I can fucking do about it. So I will have to endure.

***

*Hezzlie*


I’m glad I brought a dress.
It’s not that fancy compared to the one that I wore to my birthday party, but I think it will work just fine for dinner with my father and his family–and some nobles–for my first night in the castle. Honestly, I have no idea what one wears to a royal dinner. Up until a few weeks ago, I would’ve never thought kings and queens were real, outside of the few I see on the news who live across the ocean.
I’m ready to go when I hear a knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, I walk over and open the door. Thankfully, it’s Marcus, not Zeb or someone even more creepy. Of all the people I’ve met, he seems the least intimidating.
“Princess,” he says with a nod. “Follow me.”
I do as I’m told and stay on his heels as we wind our way through hallways and down several flights of stairs. WhenI begin to smell the scent of roasted meat and vegetables wafting in the air, my stomach tightens into a ball. My hands start to shake, so I tuck them behind me and hope I make it through this without offending anyone or making a fool out of myself.
“There she is,” my father says, gesturing at an empty chair between two people I’ve never met before. “We’ve been expecting you.”
I stand behind the chair for a moment. They just expected me to find my way down here? “Sorry,” I mutter, working the heavy chair out, trying not to make it shriek as wood bites into wood. I manage with just a little jarring screech. Marcus takes his seat on the other side of the table. There are at least forty people here–and I’ve only met three of them. Zeb is seated next to my father and has his usual scowl on his face.
“We eat dinner promptly at six,” the woman at the far end of the table says. “We encourage you not to be late again, miss.”
“Yes… Your Majesty.” I have to assume she’s the queen. I saw her picture earlier, but she looks a bit different. She’s got white-blonde hair piled on top of her head, thick makeup with long lashes and bright red lips, and her gown is covered in red jewels. Next to her sits a young man I recognize as my brother–half-brother.
With me finally arriving–at 6:03, mind you–the meal begins. Servants bring in our plates and set them before us with a flourish, and the table erupts with comments about how lovely the prime rib is, how the carrots look divine, and the potatoes are cooked to perfection. I stare at the array of silverware spread out and am confused. Which one do I use? Shouldn’t there be a salad first?
A young lady about my age who is sitting almost directly across from me clears her throat. I look up into her pretty face and she motions for me to pick up a specific fork. I smile in thanks and then follow her lead. She’s got bright red hair piled high on top of her head. She seems like the only person here who can even be bothered with me.
It seems odd that I’m here. No one speaks to me. No one even looks at me, for the most part. They chat about people and activities I’m not familiar with. I don’t even bother to try to decipher any of it because I figure if it pertains to me, someone will tell me.
Not that anyone told me what time to be at dinner or where it was.
No one introduces me, and I can barely figure out who anyone is from the context of the conversations. I do learn that the girl who helped me is named Abigail and the man next to her, who also has red hair, and a stern expression, is her father.
The salad comes out after the main dish. Weird. I look to my friend, and she helps me grab the right fork. After that, there are a few other light courses before dessert, which is a rich chocolate cake. I’m so full, I can barely eat it, but I take a few bites because I don’t want to be rude. I’m not sure I can eat like this every day.
“You should finish that.” The queen’s voice silences the rest of the table as I realize she’s speaking to me. I look up at her expectantly. “You’re skin and bones.”
I want to tell her she should’ve seen me when I left Peripheral, but I only say, “Yes, Your Majesty,” and manage to take another bite.
Thankfully, I don’t have to eat it all because my father has finished, and apparently, when the king is finished, we’re all finished. He rises, and everyone else stands abruptly. He bids everyone goodnight and turns to leave. Then, everyone else takes off as well.
I have no idea how to get back to my room.
When Abigail motions for me to follow her, I am flooded with relief.
She waits for me down the hallway and takes my arm. “Hi. I’m Abby.”
“Hezzlie,” I tell her. “Thank you for your help.”
“Of course. I’ll lead you back to your room. That was brutal.”
“You’re telling me.”
She giggles, and we head to the stairwell, and I thank God–or the Moon Goddess, or whoever–that someone here seems to be nice.