Chapter 59

Her eyes narrowed slightly, though her tone remained pleasant. "How... independent of you Lady Arin. Your type is quite rare. Many ladies would be grateful for my input." 

I picked at the edge of my napkin, feigning disinterest. But I hadn't come here just to fight with her over trivialities. I had questions—questions I hoped she might unknowingly answer.

"Your Majesty," I said, lifting my gaze to meet hers, "if you don't mind my asking, what is your relationship with King Rowan like? I heard it was rocky in the beginning. I'm curious to know about how the two of you met." 

The question caught her off guard. For a moment, a flicker of something unguarded crossed her face. But then her mask of poise slipped back into place.

"It wasn't easy," she admitted, setting down her knife and fork. "I had to fight for my place at his side. There were... challenges."

"Challenges?" I pressed, leaning forward slightly.

Isabelle sighed, as if recalling some great hardship. "I was to marry Prince Rowan and so I made the long journey back to Zaire to be bus wife. My parents unfortunately trusted a slave and made her come along as my handmaiden because she knew the castle well. But she betrayed me and poisoned me. She tried to kill me and take my place. She succeeded, but only for a little while. After some time the truth was out and I took my rightful place as his queen by his side."

My stomach twisted, so Isabelle was running around telling people that I tried to kill her? When she was the one who planned her death. But I kept my face neutral. "I heard her name was Ariadne. Is that correct?" I echoed, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.

"Yes," Isabelle said, her tone laced with disdain. "She was an otsayak—a cursed being. An abomination. She thought she could rise above her station, but I put her in her place. She wanted to take everything that belonged to me from me."

Every muscle in my body tensed, but I forced myself to remain calm. "And what happened to her?"

Isabelle's smile turned cold. "She's long gone, I assure you. I made sure of that. She was executed for her crimes. Now we never have to worry about her again." 

I felt my nails dig into the palm of my hand beneath the table. The lies poured so effortlessly from her lips, painting herself as the heroine in a story I knew all too well. A story I was in. Pathetic! They were all pathetic! 

"How tragic," I said softly, keeping my tone light. "To think someone could be so bold."

"Bold, indeed," Isabelle said with a nod, lifting her wine glass. "But such arrogance always leads to ruin. That's why she is nowhere to be found now! Finally destroyed." 

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from lashing out. Isabelle had no idea who I really was, and for now, that was my greatest weapon.

"Thank you for sharing that story, Your Majesty," I said, my voice steady despite the rage simmering beneath the surface. "It's always fascinating to learn about the past."

Isabelle tilted her head slightly, studying me. "You're a curious one, Lady Arin. But curiosity can be dangerous."

I smiled sweetly. "Only for those with something to hide."

Her eyes darkened for a brief moment, but then she laughed softly, as if amused. "I'll leave you to yourself, then. But remember, as brother in law's  future wife, you will soon be part of this family. And loyalty to the crown is paramount. I know you don't want to do the pack initiation or swear allegiance to the King but people talk and it won't be long till they start asking questions." 

"Of course," I said, rising from my seat. "Loyalty is everything."

I left the dining room without another word, my steps steady even as my mind churned with plans for revenge. Isabelle might have thought she'd won, spinning her lies and planting her barbs, but I wasn't the naive girl she assumed I was.

She would pay for what she'd done. They all would.

I stormed out of Queen Isabelle's chambers, the weight of her lies pressing heavily on my chest. My anger burned like a wildfire, consuming every rational thought. She dared to speak of me, to paint me as some sort of monster, when I knew the truth. The truth was that she had planned her own death, unwilling to take care of a crippled Prince, throwing the weight of the responsibility on me. Not knowing that the rejected Prince would then one day become king. 

Her words echoed in my mind: "She was an abomination."

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms as I made my way back to my room. The halls of the castle felt suffocating, each step heavier than the last. When I finally reached the sanctuary of my chambers, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath.

Could I even do this? Could I carry out my revenge when my feelings for Rowan were becoming so... complicated?

I sank onto the edge of my bed, burying my face in my hands. This mission had once seemed so clear, so simple. Destroy them from within. Make them pay for what they did to me, to my kind and take revenge on behalf of Braam.  But now, I wasn't sure if I was losing my way or if I'd already lost it entirely.

My time with Rowan haunted me, a constant reminder of the connection we shared. My mind kept telling me it was a distraction, but my heart betrayed me, longing for something I couldn't afford to want.

Get it together, Arin, I scolded myself. You didn't come here to fall for a king or anyone else. You came here for justice.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I sat up, quickly composing myself before answering.

"Yes?"

A young maid stepped inside, her arms full of elegant dresses draped in soft fabrics and shimmering embroidery. "My lady," she said with a small bow, "Prince Lucian had these delivered for you."

I stared at the dresses, they were breathtaking. Two lovely white dresses with gold trimmings, their beauty doing little to soothe my foul mood. "Why?" I asked bluntly.

The maid hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "He wanted to ensure you were... well-prepared for the wedding, my lady."

I bit back a bitter laugh. "Of course he did."

Taking the dresses from her, I placed them on the bed. "Thank you. You may go."

The maid bowed again and quickly exited, leaving me alone with my growing frustration. I didn't want anything from Lucian—not his gifts, not his promises, and certainly not his rushed marriage.

I had to find a way to stall the wedding. Getting married in three days was too much, too much for me to handle. 

The walls of the castle felt even more stifling than before, and I needed air. Grabbing my cloak, I decided to go for a walk to the marketplace. At least there, I could pretend to be free, if only for a little while.

The streets were alive with activity, vendors calling out their wares and villagers bustling about their business. The scents of freshly baked bread and spiced meats filled the air, mingling with the hum of conversation and laughter. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the noise and chaos.

As I wandered through the market, something caught my attention. Two werewolves stood near a fruit stall, speaking in hushed but intense tones. I lingered nearby, pretending to inspect a basket of apples as I listened in.

"The wolf clans are growing restless," one of them said, his voice low but firm. "They need King Rowan to produce an heir soon. They have supported him so far, the least he can do is secure the throne with an heir." 

"If King Rowan doesn't provide an heir soon, they will turn against him."