Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
ESTEE
B efore leaving the castle, I make a quick call to Jerome, and to my surprise, he treats me exactly as Theo said he would: like his queen. His tone is formal, his deference clear. There’s no hesitation in his responses as I give my instructions. Rooms must be prepared immediately for any children we may find, with beds, fresh linens, and proper provisions. I emphasize the urgency of setting up a long-term plan for placement and that I expect to discuss this over dinner with Theo tonight.
Dinner. I wasn’t sure I’d take Theo up on that offer—until now. Somehow, I hope the time with him will help piece together the mystery of Selaris and reveal the truth buried beneath the tension and secrets. I want to understand what Theo is hiding, and more than that, I want to know if I can trust him.
With Drea by my side, we leave the castle grounds. Past the stone archway, great double gates open before us, revealing the path that leads out into the heart of Selaris. As we get closer to the market area, I feel several sets of eyes on me. And with those heavy stares, the curiosity, the suspicion, and the hope that swirl around this small kingdom.
Welcome to Selaris, I think, doing my best to square my shoulders and lift my chin. I need to be someone they can trust today, not just a visitor from a distant kingdom.
The town unfurls in front of me—homely yet worn by years of neglect from their king. The buildings are mostly stone, lining the narrow, cobbled streets. Shops have creaky wooden signs hanging above doorways—some brightly painted in shades of blue, green, and maroon, while others are faded by time.
Vendor stalls line the main street, their canopies creating patches of shade in the early afternoon sun. They offer everything from fresh fruits to woven fabrics and intricate jewelry. The scent of freshly baked bread mingles with that of earth and spices, reminding me of home, but different—more subdued, more distrusting.
“Stay close,” I murmur to Drea. Though the town seems peaceful enough, there’s an underlying edge that has my wolf ever-present. Her focused mind reminds me that with one wrong move, I might find more than I’ve set out to uncover on my own.
As we walk deeper into town, more people notice us, and murmurs spread like wildfire. “Princess Estee.” Their whispers are hushed but eager. Some look on with expressions of interest, others with skepticism. One older woman meets my gaze with such intensity that I’m forced to nod in acknowledgment, and the briefest flicker of a smile softens her features.
Drea stays quiet beside me, her observant eyes scanning the crowd. “I get the feeling they don’t know what to think of you yet,” she says softly, leaning in closer. “Some look at you like you’re their salvation. Others like you’re just another royal passing through.”
“I can’t blame them.” I look around, taking in every detail, every flicker of emotion that crosses their faces. “I wouldn’t know what to make of me either if I were them.”
We pass a tailor’s shop, and there’s a young woman sewing at the window, her fingers moving swiftly. She’s so engrossed in her work that she doesn’t even notice us. Further down the road, children chase each other, their bare feet slapping against the cobblestones, laughter ringing out in sharp contrast to the wary stares of the adults.
“Princess Estee!” A small boy suddenly darts out in front of me, eyes wide with excitement. He’s holding a flower—wild, with delicate blue petals—and he pushes it up toward me, grinning from ear to ear. “For you.”
I kneel, taking the blossom from his outstretched hand. “Thank you,” I say, smiling. “What’s your name?”
“Rory,” he says proudly, rocking back on his heels.
“Well, Rory, this is a beautiful flower.” I tuck it into the braid of my hair, and his smile widens.
“When do we get to call you Queen Estee?” he asks innocently, his eyes round with hope.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “But I promise to do whatever I can to make things better even as a princess.”
Satisfied, he gives a little nod and runs off, disappearing into the bustling market. I stand, my heart warmed by the simple exchange. But beneath that warmth, there’s a chill, a reminder of why I’m here. There are children like Rory all over Selaris, some who are much less fortunate than him, and I intend to find them.
“Let’s keep going,” I say to Drea, and we move on, asking a few passersby for confirmation we’re headed in the right direction. Some are reluctant to speak with us, but others are quick to help, eyes glimmering with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty.
Eventually, we reach the edge of the town, where the stone streets fade to dirt paths and the buildings grow sparser. The air is thick with the scent of pine, and tall trees sway in the breeze as we approach the structure we’ve been directed to. A church at one point, but with its roof sagging, vines creeping up the sides, and doors hanging crooked on their hinges, I have a hard time calling it one still.
The place is abandoned—long forgotten by both gods and shifters alike.
“Is this it?” Drea asks, her voice hushed with disbelief.
“It must be.” I step closer, running my fingers over the cracked wooden slats of the exterior. A chill seeps into my fingertips as I feel the neglect of this place, its ghostly silence settling around us.
I push open the door, the weathered wood groaning in protest, and we step inside. The space within is dim, lit only by rays of sunlight breaking through cracked stained-glass windows. Dust swirls in the air, and the floor is scattered with worn blankets, a few makeshift cots, and threadbare clothing. Though, I’m thankful to at least see open books and colored-on papers lying about. The scent of old wood and earth hangs heavy in the air. It’s clear that this church is a place of refuge—but one without the comfort and care that children need.
“Estee,” Drea whispers, pointing toward the back. A group of children huddle together, wide-eyed and fearful, their clothes worn and faces dirty. They’re clutching one another tightly, as if my presence is an omen they don’t know how to interpret.
“Hey,” I say softly, holding my hands out, palms up. “It’s okay. I’m here to help.”
One of the older girls, likely around ten or eleven, steps forward, standing protectively in front of the younger ones. Her face is set with a hard determination that doesn’t belong on someone her age. “Who are you?” she asks, her voice shaking but resolute.
“I’m Princess Estee,” I say gently. “I heard about this place and wanted to…” The words catch in my throat. How do I tell them I want to take them from their home, even if it’s not a proper one? The last thing I want is for them to fear me. “I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help. Can you tell me your name?”
She hesitates, glancing back at the others before looking at me. “I’m Neri,” she says. “And we don’t need anything from you.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, my eyes drifting to the thin blankets and the hollow cheeks of the children. “Not even a warm meal or a place to bathe? Of course, you don’t have to accept, and I don’t intend to force you.” Drea’s eyes cut sharply to me, but I ignore her. “But I’ll keep returning to check on you regardless.”
Neri’s fair blue eyes flash with defiance, but behind it there’s a fear of being betrayed, of promises broken too many times.
“What have you brought for us today, then?” she asks, looking pointedly at our empty hands. “Words don’t mean anything to us.”
“Understandable,” I reply, offering a sympathetic smile. “Though, I’ll be honest, I made the assumption that you were living in an active church.” I look up at the rotting ceiling. “So, I’ve come unprepared with anything other than an offer to move all of you into the castle.”
That has multiple growls echoing from the pups as Neri snarls. “We won’t be slaves.”
Gods, these poor children.
“And I wouldn’t allow such a thing,” I promise. “In fact, your friend Keera was sent to work for me, and I immediately relieved her of her duties and invited her to eat with me instead of serving me. I had hoped to provide her with a safe place to stay, but she left before I could follow through.”
The silence stretches out between us, heavy with uncertainty. And in that moment, I realize that helping these children will mean more than providing shelter and food. It will mean rebuilding trust that has long been shattered—piece by fragile piece.
“I promise each of you,” I tell them, slowly meeting each of their wide-eyed stares, “no matter what choice you make today, you will have food and proper places to sleep by the day’s end. I’ll have everything I can brought to you here if that’s what it takes to make sure you’re cared for, but I would also love to have you in the castle with me, where you’ll have much more available to you, without the expectation of anything in return.”
Neri turns to the others, and they huddle together. I could listen in if I wanted to, but I won’t force their hand, even if it’s for their own good.
I turn to Drea to give the kids some privacy, and there are tears in her eyes. “My heart has never hurt as much as it does now,” she whispers. “Can’t we just kidnap them like we talked about before?”
I force a tight smile, aching with the same desperation. “If we want this to work long term, taking them against their will probably isn’t the best idea.” I glance over my shoulder briefly to find they’re still speaking in hushed whispers. “Patience is going to be our best option after whatever they’ve been through.”
By my count, there are four of them. That doesn’t include Keera—or, possibly, the one she came back for. Though, it doesn’t matter how many we find. They’ll all get the same love and care and eventually proper homes, even if I have to send them to Polaris to find new parents, considering the pack members here haven’t already stepped up for the children.
Neri turns back to address me again, her chin held higher than before. “If you want to bring us things, we’ll accept, but we don’t want to move into the castle.”
I shouldn’t be surprised, yet my heart still constricts. “I can respect that. If you’ll help me make a list of things you need most, I’ll have them to you within a few hours.”
“But I can’t.” Keera’s voice comes from behind us.
Drea and I turn to find her standing there, still dressed in the castle uniform, with a little girl clinging to her left side.
Keera frowns at me. “I’m sorry I left the way I did, Princess Estee, but if you’ll take just some of us, the two of us would like to return with you.”
“I’ll take whoever wants to come and bring back supplies for anyone who isn’t yet ready,” I say loudly, making sure the children know it’s not one or the other. I won’t forsake those who need more time to trust me.
“Can I go too?” a little boy says from behind Neri, his eyes darting between me and her.
Neri’s expression softens as she rubs a hand over his mussed blond hair. “If the princess is offering, I won’t stop you.”
He runs to Keera, clinging to her other side before popping a thumb into his mouth.
I look back at Neri, trying to convey all the compassion and strength she deserves. “I promise you,” I say softly, “I will make this right for all of you.”
She lifts her chin even higher, eyes guarded but resigned. “I look forward to seeing you try.”
And I will. No matter what it takes—if I have to rebuild this church with my bare hands—these children will have a place to call home, full bellies, and all the love they deserve.
Anything less would be a failure I refuse to accept.