Chapter Twenty-Five

Laura leaned close.

“I’m making this face, to stress my face before I stress my fist.”

Sophia’s eyes grew wide, though it didn’t seem to be from fear..no. It was simply shock from being told off by the *mutt*.

But it quickly wore off.

“Threatening me will be your worst mistake.”

“It wasn’t a threat, and it wasn’t a mistake.”

The blonde cunt was now in her face, growling just as deep–if not deeper–as Laura.

“You think you can beat me? You who can’t even shift? Think about your precious Deltas first,” Sophia hissed, a breath from her face.

How they managed not to draw any attention beyond the two of them was a mystery.

But before Laura could satiate the need to gather her up, Sophia suddenly–and violently–flung backward, hitting the ground in a flurry of tableware and toppled chairs.

“My face!” She wailed.

“What’s going on here?”

The queen’s voice came from behind.

Laura understood then.

*This fucking bitch*. She glared at the crumpled form on the ground, doing its best impression of an injured pup.

The queen came to a stop beside Laura.

“We don’t tolerate violence here.” Her eyes swept over them both, her voice barely audible above Sophia’s dramatics.

“It was a misunderstanding, Your Grace.” Laura bowed her head, glancing as Sophia was helped to her feet by the two other candidates seated at their table.

“Let’s assume that to be the case for now.” The disdain was evident in her voice as she turned away from their table, taking her seat at one nearby.

*Fuck*.

Now Laura had to remedy this situation.

***

The sun moved lower, dragging its heat with it.

Laura worried her bottom lip as she watched Queen Lana continue her rotations without a further glance at the table Laura was seated at. The other two candidates seemed just as concerned as Laura; however, the culprit of the situation looked to care less as she primed herself with a compact mirror.

Laura rolled her eyes.

Another thirty minutes of laughter and chatter ensued, with the queen seeming to give the most natural reaction to the table Evelyn sat at. *Figures*.

It was made clear that she would not be joining Laura’s table, as she made her way back to her seat.

“Thank you all for taking the time to share your ideas on the direction of governance for the future. I see we have many candidates with solid skills and foundations to lead us into a positive era. You’ve shown me you encapsulate the idea of what a queen should be for her people, so I won’t bore you with the expectations.” Queen Lana looked directly at Laura’s table at the end.

“Please continue to enjoy the refreshments provided, as I take my leave shortly.” An attendant appeared beside her, leaning into her ear.

“I do have exciting news to share with you before I go.”

Laura perked up.

“As of right now, a handful of your families have arrived for their visits, with the remaining families scheduled to arrive by evening tomorrow.”

A couple of howls sounded as the women expressed their homesickness.

“How long will they be staying?” A female asked.

“They will be here for a week, starting tomorrow.” Queen Lana stood, the attendant close on her heels as she returned to the castle, leaving the rest of them to do as they pleased.

Laura stood a few moments later, after a couple of other females decided to leave the gathering, before silently following, tracing the path of Queen Lana.

Laura moved silently, listening to the click of heels as the scent of Queen Lana grew stronger. Laura followed down a couple of hallways she’d never ventured before.

It was more desolate here–nothing but marble flooring and bare walls.

“Why are you sneaking behind me?”

Laura flinched.

She’d been so occupied checking out the lack of presence of the area, that she didn’t notice when the sound of clicking paused.

“Uhm... I-I just wanted to borrow a moment of your time. I have a story–well, more like a case–with an important implication for all of our kind.” Laura rushed her words, ineloquent now given the opportunity The queen’s arms were crossed, eyebrows raised, in an uninviting manner.

Cool eyes regarded her. Laura held her breath.

“If it’s going to take more than three minutes, can it wait until the day after tomorrow? My schedule is tight at the moment.”

Laura sagged, relieved and a bit surprised Queen Lana considered her seriously. She thought it would take more convincing.

“Yes, that works for me.” Laura tried not to sound too excited.

“Good. After dinner then–ten o’clock. My sitting room.” Heels clicked away, leaving Laura standing in the barren hall.

Wow. She was invited to the royal’s wing.

*Well*. Step one down.

Now she needed to convince her to start an investigation…

But she’d cross that bridge.

Laura nearly skipped back to her room.

She’d maybe spent three minutes fighting herself out of the dress she wore before a knock sounded.

“What is it?” she roared. *It shouldn’t be this fucking hard to get a* sundress *off*.

The voice on the other side cleared its throat.

“It’s nearly time for your meeting with Prince Rowan.”

*Ugh*.

She forgot about him.

“Alright.”

She allowed the dress to settle back in place, her heart racing at the idea of being thrown into another heat.

*Troublesome.*

Then she eyed her bed.

***

“Come in.”

Laura stood there, staring at the door between her and her mate. Her current mood: anger. She’d flitted through a roller coaster of emotions for three hours waiting on this fucking meeting, only for it to happen another hour later. It was solidly dark out.

The attendant cleared his throat, earning a glare.

She took a deep breath, preparing to face him head-on, before opening the floor-to-ceiling door to the prince’s study.

It was almost as she expected–the decor.

Dark notes were highlighted by equally dark wood and metal. The biggest desk she’d ever seen faced the door, two chairs seated facing a singular one in classic office style. But that’s not where the prince was.

Off to the side sat an intimate fixture of oversized round-back chairs, and a small table table between them.

Prince Rowan sat leisurely, golden eyes intent on her. She almost couldn’t breathe.

He reclined in his seat, one leg outstretched in tan dress pants. His matching shirt appeared silky even at this distance in the dim light–his outfit a contrast to the dark hair brushing his collar.

His expression was neutral, but the pressure he exerted on his wine glass belied that.

He stood, suddenly, causing every muscle in Laura’s body to clench.

“Please, take a seat.”