Chapter 24 Potential - Aleksandr’s POV
I braced myself as I approached the council chamber, my footsteps echoing against the marble floors like distant thunder. Three days since Amelia had arrived, three days of watching her slowly unfurl like a cautious flower testing sunlight after too long in shadow. Now I had to face the council's judgment on her worth, on her potential as my queen—as if she were livestock to be appraised rather than the woman whose mismatched eyes haunted my thoughts. Skoll stirred restlessly in my mind, his protective instincts toward her growing stronger with each passing day. 'They will respect her,' he growled, 'or they will answer to us.'
The massive double doors swung open before I could touch them, the guards having sensed my approach. Inside, the circular chamber lay bathed in morning light streaming through tall arched windows. The council members were already seated around the obsidian table, their postures betraying varying degrees of tension. Elder Nora and Sylvia sat together on the left, their heads bent in quiet conversation. Across from them, Councillors Kane, Blackthorn, and Blackstone occupied their usual positions, papers spread before them like battle plans.
They rose as I entered, a synchronized movement born of centuries of protocol. I took my seat at the head of the table, deliberately avoiding Kane's probing gaze. He, more than the others, had sensed my growing interest in Amelia. Three days wasn't long, but it had been enough to establish a fragile connection between us—breakfasts in the garden, quiet conversations in the library, moments where her guarded expression would briefly give way to genuine smiles. Small victories that meant more than they should.
"Be seated," I said, gesturing for them to return to their chairs. "Let's not waste time on formalities."
Elder Nora's lips quirked in barely concealed amusement. At 427 years old, she found our modern council protocols tedious compared to the ancient traditions she'd witnessed. Her silver-streaked dark hair was meticulously braided as always, her sharp eyes missing nothing.
"We've gathered to discuss two matters of urgency," Kane began, his lean frame perfectly poised as he addressed the table. "The potential of Miss Lovelace as His Majesty's bride, and the approaching deadline of the Centennial Curse."
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral despite the way Skoll bristled at having Amelia reduced to an agenda item. "Sylvia, begin with your report on Miss Lovelace's physical condition."
The healer straightened, her steel-gray hair pulled back in its customary severe bun. "Miss Lovelace's silver burns are healing nicely," she reported, her clinical tone belied by the genuine care in her eyes. "The salve has accelerated the process considerably. The older scars will remain, but the recent wounds should heal with minimal marking.”
I felt Skoll's anger flare at the mention of those scars, echoing my own rage at what she'd endured. I'd had Blackwater moved to more secure holding after our "discussion" in his cell, his whimpering form a small payment toward the debt owed for Amelia's suffering.
"She's finally allowed me to examine her ribs," Sylvia continued. "As suspected, there's an improperly healed fracture on the left side. I've scheduled an X-ray for this afternoon to determine if we can reset it to improve her comfort and breathing."
"And her overall health?" I asked, already knowing the answer from my own observations—the way she tired easily during our walks, how she still ate like someone expecting the food to be snatched away at any moment.
"Improving, but slowly," Sylvia replied. "The malnutrition was severe and long-term. Her body is adjusting to regular meals, but it will take time to rebuild her strength and restore proper function to all systems."
I nodded, satisfied with the progress even as I wished it could be faster, easier for her. "Thank you, Sylvia."
Councillor Blackthorn cleared his throat, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses in a gesture I recognized as his prelude to disagreement. "The girl's physical recovery is certainly important," he said, his voice carrying that carefully measured tone he used when questioning my decisions. "But we must address the fundamental issue: is she worth pursuing? As a potential royal bride, I mean."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Skoll surged forward in my mind, his growl rumbling just beneath the surface of my thoughts. 'Worth? She is worth more than all of them combined.'
"Explain your meaning, Blackthorn," I said, my voice deliberately flat.
He spread his hands in a gesture of diplomatic appeal. "With respect, Your Highness, we must consider the practical aspects. The girl cannot shift. She has no standing among the packs. No political connections, no dowry, no strategic advantage to offer."
"Skoll believes she is worth pursuing," I stated, letting the weight of those words settle over the table. "That alone would be reason enough."
A ripple of unease passed through the council. They all understood what I meant: my wolf had accepted her, found something in her worth protecting. After rejecting seventeen potential brides, some from the most powerful families in the kingdom, Skoll's approval of Amelia was significant.
Blackthorn frowned slightly. "With respect, Your Majesty, we cannot base such important decisions solely on instinct. The girl cannot shift. How can she possibly be the one to break the curse if she cannot take her wolf form?"
"That's precisely where I come in," Elder Nora interjected, her archaic accent more pronounced when she was eager about a subject. "His Majesty has requested my assistance in determining why Miss Lovelace cannot shift, despite clearly possessing a wolf."
Blackstone, who had been silent until now, leaned forward with sudden interest. "You can sense her wolf? I was under the impression no one could detect it."
"I cannot," Elder Nora admitted. "But His Majesty can. More importantly, Skoll can."