Chapter 67: Loyal Retainer

Chapter 67: Loyal Retainer
Azarius
"Mace, I’ve finished everything," I grumbled, slouching on the couch and crossing my arms, my frown deepening. "You promised me a hug. I need it. Now."
Macedonia chuckled softly as she set down a tray of snacks and tea on the table. "Have some snacks first, and then you’ll get your hug," she teased, her voice light and playful.
I pouted, narrowing my eyes. "Are you serious?"
With a warm smile, she stepped closer, cupping my cheek gently. "Yes, I am. You deserve a reward, at least. You did an amazing job standing your ground in that debate with your father. I’m proud of you, Azarius."
Her formal tone made me groan. "You sound like a court advisor." I mimicked her voice, deliberately exaggerated, earning a playful smack on the shoulder.
"Stop sulking," she quipped, tousling my hair with a mischievous grin. "Now eat your snacks like a good prince, or you’re not getting anything else."
A grin tugged at my lips as I begrudgingly obeyed, digging into the tray. When I finished, she settled beside me and opened her arms. Without hesitation, I dove in, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist and burying my face in the crook of her neck.
"There, there," she murmured, her hand gliding soothingly over my back. "You did well today, Azarius."
Her floral perfume lingered in the air, a scent I recognized instantly.
It was the one I had gifted her when she turned fifteen. It wrapped around me like a comforting memory, grounding me in the moment.
"Please tell me there’s nothing on my schedule this afternoon," I mumbled, eyes still closed, my head resting against her shoulder.
Macedonia chuckled softly, her fingers weaving gently through my hair. "Lucky for you, there’s nothing planned," she said, her voice light and soothing. "You’ve got plenty of time to go wherever you want. Should I arrange something? Just let me know."
She shifted slightly, as if to pull away, but I tightened my hold around her.
"Don’t go, Mace," I murmured, a hint of exasperation in my voice. "I’m so drained from all this relentless training to become the next Alpha King."
But the truth was, I wasn’t tired at all. Years of grueling lessons and rigorous drills had hardened me, proven my capability to take on the throne. Father’s endless challenges were something I had long since grown accustomed to.
No, this was different. I didn’t want to let her go because, in this moment, I craved her presence. Her attention. Her comfort.
Hugging her had become a small but significant ritual, one that started when I was nine. I still remember the first time. Father had stacked my days with an unbearable load of training and lessons, leaving me feeling more like a machine than a boy.
Macedonia, with her ever-watchful eyes, noticed before anyone else.
"You seem off," she’d said back then, her voice tinged with concern. "If you ever feel overwhelmed, just ask for a hug. Don’t hide it from me."
At first, I resisted. The idea of seeking comfort in something as simple as a hug felt foreign. But when I finally relented, I discovered just how grounding it could be.
Now, years later, that comfort remained the same. As I held her close, her presence reminded me that even amidst the pressures of royalty, I didn’t have to carry everything alone.
Since that day, an unfamiliar longing began to stir within me. It was a desire to be closer to her, to feel her warmth, to bask in the comfort of her presence. I couldn’t explain it, but I craved Macedonia’s attention, her concern directed solely at me.
Looking back, all those times I stubbornly shirked my duties, it wasn’t rebellion or exhaustion that drove me. It was something far more personal. I wanted her to notice, to worry for me, to care in the way only she could.
Every misstep, every fleeting attempt to slip away from my responsibilities, wasn’t about defiance.
It was about her.
The way she’d scold me softly, her brow furrowed in genuine concern and annoyed whenever I teased her, her eyes searching mine as if trying to unravel what weighed on me. 
I realized then that it wasn’t the weight of my training or the looming expectations of the throne that made me feel tired. It was the yearning for her presence, the desire for her unwavering focus, that had become the quiet rebellion in my heart.
I had been like this since I had reached adolescence. And I was already fifteen now, being like this to her.
And a year later, she would meet another man, and I wouldn't be able to do these things like this. She would be having her first shift and probably meet her mate, too.
That idea was infuriating me. That was why, as much as possible, I wanted to be clingy to her. I didn't want to see her with another man, and I hate the idea that she would meet her mate soon.
I wasn’t sure how long we had stayed like this, but the soft rhythm of Macedonia’s snore broke through the quiet. Surprised, I glanced up to find her peacefully asleep. Her relaxed features and steady breathing made it clear. She was just as exhausted as I had been, if not more.
A warm smile crept across my face. Bringing her here had been the right choice, giving her a moment of peace away from the constant demands we both faced.
Macedonia wasn’t just someone I trusted, not merely a loyal companion who had stood by me all these years. Calling her a friend felt inadequate, almost trivial.
Yes, we had shared years of laughter, secrets, and loyalty, but lately, something deeper stirred within me.
She wasn’t just my best friend.
She was Macedonia.
And somewhere along the way, I had started to see her as more than that.
Not as just a friend, but as a girl, a girl I couldn’t stop thinking about.
My heart pounded in my chest as I gently helped her settle on the couch, my movements careful not to disturb her slumber. Taking a seat on the edge, I watched her peaceful face, the soft rise and fall of her breathing almost hypnotic.
Macedonia stirred slightly, a quiet groan escaping her lips, but she remained asleep. Just as I began to stand, a soft gasp left me when I felt her hand tighten around mine, her fingers instinctively gripping as if she didn’t want me to go.
She was still sound asleep, yet the warmth of her touch sent a wave of emotions crashing through me.
My pulse quickened as I sat there, her hand still holding mine even in sleep. The soft warmth of her fingers against my skin was a reminder of how much she trusted me, how close we had grown over the years.
My gaze lingered on her serene face, the faint flutter of her eyelashes, the way her chest rose and fell in rhythm with her breathing. She looked so peaceful, so vulnerable in this moment, and something about that stirred an unfamiliar ache in my chest.
A thought whispered at the edges of my mind, daring and dangerous. I leaned in slightly, caught in the quiet pull of her presence. Her scent surrounded me—floral and warm, uniquely hers—and I found myself dangerously close.
But just as quickly as the thought formed, reality yanked me back.
What was I doing?
Azarius, you mustn't do this!
I froze, inches away from crossing a line I had no right to even approach. Macedonia was my retainer, my companion, my loyal confidante. She trusted me implicitly, and here I was, teetering on the edge of betraying that trust.
I clenched my jaw and pulled back, my heart hammering against my ribs. The weight of the boundary between us pressed heavily on my chest.
This wasn’t about what I wanted. It couldn’t be.
She deserved more than my selfishness.
Sighing quietly, I shifted my grip, carefully easing her hand back onto the couch without waking her. Standing, I took a step back, watching her for a moment longer.
"You’re too important to me," I murmured under my breath, the words barely audible even to myself. "I don't want to lose you, Macedonia." I wanted to caress her cheek and would be drawn to her beauty, but I didn't want her to see me creeping her out.
I turned away, willing the turmoil inside me to settle as I moved to the window. The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow over the room.
Macedonia stirred again, a soft sound escaping her, but she didn’t wake. I allowed myself one last glance at her, silently vowing to cherish the bond we shared without overstepping the delicate line that defined it.
But how long would I keep this feeling I felt for her? Until the day she found her mate?
Or... keep this until the day I die?