25 A Little Company

**Annabel’s POV**

We made our way to a charming gazebo nestled at the heart of the garden. The air was cool, and the faint scent of blossoms lingered as we settled in. 

A servant appeared with a tray, offering us drinks. 

Without thinking much about it, I bypassed the juice and reached for something stronger—a spirit that promised to numb the constant ache inside me. 

I didn’t care what it was; I just wanted the pain to fade, if only for a moment.

“Careful with that. It’s pretty strong,” Declan warned with a chuckle as I took a sip. His tone was light, almost teasing, but I could hear the concern woven into his words.

“Thank you,” I murmured, lifting the glass to my lips again. The burn of the drink wasn’t unpleasant—it was almost welcome, like fire chasing away the cold.

He watched me quietly for a moment before speaking again. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Annabel Stormrider,” I replied, my voice steady despite the sting in my throat.

Declan’s expression shifted slightly, recognition flickering in his eyes. “Maxwell’s widow,” he said softly, nodding as if piecing together a puzzle. 

Somehow, I believed he already knew and was only acting for my amusement.

I nodded back, my grip tightening on the glass. “Yes,” I confirmed, taking another drink to silence the lump forming in my throat.

“I’m sorry for what happened to your husband,” he offered, his voice tinged with sincerity.

“Thank you,” I replied. I didn’t tell him the truth—that Maxwell had been one of the lucky ones.

He was gone, free from this nightmare, while I remained trapped in a life that wasn’t mine. The thought stayed buried inside me, too painful and bitter to share.

Declan leaned back slightly, studying me with an openness I wasn’t used to. “I’d ask you if you like it here,” he began, “but I already know the King can be… difficult. I am surprised, though, that he doesn’t seem fond of you. You’re quite likeable.”

His words caught me off guard, and I quickly tipped back another shot, more to occupy myself than to answer. I suspect it was a deliberate comment to see my point of view on the matter. Before I could reach for another, Declan gently took the glass from my hand.

“Juice from now on,” he said firmly, though his tone was kind. “I don’t want you getting drunk.”

I let go of the glass without protest, my mind too fogged with thoughts to argue. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes warm as he spoke again. 

“You seem a bit down. How about this? You keep me company when you’re free. We can take walks, play board games, or just talk. It might help take the edge off for both of us.”

I studied him carefully, my guard rising despite his kindness. Declan was the Gamma, a powerful figure in the King’s court. 

Men in power rarely offered something without expecting more in return. I hesitated, then asked the question that was burning inside me.

“What do you want from me, if I may ask?” My tone was polite, measured, though my heart raced as I waited for his answer.

He smiled faintly, leaning back against the bench. “Honestly? I’d like a friend. A beautiful one, yes, but one who wouldn’t be desperate for me to settle down with her.”

His words caught me so off guard that I burst into laughter, the sound surprising even me. I thought of Michelle’s endless complaints about the King and her desperate longing for his attention. 

Declan wasn’t wrong—women often clung to powerful men, hoping for security, love, or status. But I wasn’t one of them. All I wanted was peace, though it felt like a distant dream.

We spent the next hour talking and laughing, our conversation weaving between light-hearted topics and moments of shared understanding. 

For the first time in weeks, I felt almost human again, the heavy weight of my reality lifting just slightly. When the sun dipped low and the garden fell into shadows, Declan stood and offered to walk me back to my room.

As we reached my door, I turned to him. “Good night, Declan,” I said softly, my voice touched with gratitude.

“Good night, Annabel,” he replied with a gentle smile. And then he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts, which for once didn’t feel so unbearable.