Epilogue #3
A smile tugged at my lips, unexpected and genuine, a lightness I hadn’t felt all evening. “So,” I said, raising an eyebrow, “you’re a Peeping Tom?”
“No! I’m not—” he sputtered, his hands flailing in protest, then paused as he caught the teasing glint in my eyes, his grin returning, bright and unguarded. “Alright, tonight I am,” he admitted, his laugh low and warm, a sound that sent a shiver through me. “But I swear, it’s not a habit.”
My heart pounded, a wild rhythm that echoed my wolf’s, her excitement a drumbeat urging me closer, her voice insistent.
Mate.
My wolf declared, and the certainty settled over me, sudden and undeniable, like a star igniting in a midnight sky. This wasn’t just a chance meeting—it was destiny, a pull I’d dreamed of since I was a girl watching my parents’ love unfold.
“Why’d you leave the ball?” he asked, his head tilting, genuine curiosity in his voice, his dark eyes studying me, not with the calculation of a suitor but with a quiet interest, as if he saw me, not the princess, but Anna.
I blinked, feigning nonchalance, though my pulse raced. “I needed some air,” I said, shrugging lightly. “Sometimes, all the formalities, the endless polite talk, feel… suffocating. They make you forget how to breathe.”
He nodded, his expression thoughtful, understanding flickering in his eyes, as if he’d felt that same weight. “I get that,” he murmured. “Sometimes, I ride out to the wilds at dusk, just to the feel the open sky, to let the wind clear my head. It’s the only place I feel… free.”
“You can ride horses?” I asked curiously, though the question felt a bit silly since he was, after all, a stableman.
His smile widened, proud and unassuming, his eyes lighting with a spark that mirrored my own. “I grew up with horses,” he said, his voice warm with memory. “My father was the former head groom—he taught me everything. How to calm a spooked mare, how to read a horse’s language.”
“I loved riding too,” I said, my voice softening, a shared passion bridging the gap between us. “Especially when I can slip away without guards trailing me. There’s nothing like that freedom, the world blurring past.”
His eyes brightened, a spark of connection flaring between us, his smile infectious. “Do you chase speed or savor the ride?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity genuine.
“Speed,” I answered without hesitation, a grin spreading across my face, the thrill of a gallop vivid in my mind. “The faster, the better—nothing else comes close.”
Allen’s eyes lit up, a shared excitement crackling between us.
“I know a trail,” he said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm, “along the river, cutting through the forest. It’s hidden, quiet, perfect for letting a horse fly.
” He paused, a flush creeping up his neck, as if suddenly aware of his boldness. “I mean, if you ever wanted to—”
“I’d love to see it,” I interrupted, surprising myself with the certainty in my voice, my heart racing at the prospect. I tilted my head, considering. “Tomorrow afternoon? I can say I’m inspecting the horses.”
His jaw dropped, disbelief giving way to a radiant smile that transformed his face, making him look impossibly brighter under the moonlight. “You’re serious, Your Highness?” he asked, his voice tinged with awe.
“Call me Anna,” I said, my tone firm but warm, a quiet rebellion against the titles that separated us. “Here, I’m just Anna.”
His grin was dazzling, a spark that seemed to light the night around us. “Alright, Anna,” he said, his voice softening, as if savoring my name. “Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll have the fastest horses ready.”
The distant call of my mother’s voice, sharp with concern, broke the moment, pulling me back to reality. “I have to go,” I said, reluctance tugging at my chest, my feet rooted to the spot. “See you tomorrow, Allen.”
He nodded, his dark eyes bright with promise, a silent vow. “Tomorrow, Anna,” he replied, his voice steady, holding me in place for one last heartbeat.
Back in the palace, Mother’s reprimand was gentle but firm, her brow furrowed as she chided me for abandoning the ball, especially Raymond, her tone laced with disappointment. “He’s asked to take you out tomorrow,” she said, her voice softening, her eyes searching mine for understanding.
Tomorrow? My heart sank, the promise to Allen vivid in my mind. How could I explain to my parents that I’d met my fated mate, a stableman who couldn’t offer me an elephant as my birthday gift or strengthen our kingdom’s power?
The words caught in my throat, a tangle of fear and longing. “Anna, are you alright?” Mother asked, guiding me to sit on the edge of my bed, her hand cool against my forehead, worry etching her features. “Susie, could you prepare a calming tea?”
As Susie slipped out, Mother stroked my cheek, her touch a soothing echo of childhood nights when she’d coax me to sleep. “If you’re tired, rest,” she said, her voice a lullaby, her presence a comfort that steadied my racing thoughts.
I leaned against her, my head resting on her lap, gazing up through the lamplight, catching the faint lines of fatigue on her face—the cost of ruling two kingdoms, the weight she and Father carried for our family, for our people.
I couldn’t add to that burden, couldn’t disappoint them with a choice that defied duty.
Yet Allen’s face lingered, his dark eyes a beacon, my wolf urging me to run to him, my heart a riot of longing that refused to be silenced.
“Mother,” I ventured, my voice small, trembling with the risk of truth, “If I said I didn’t want to go with Raymond tomorrow, would you be upset?”
Her hand stilled in my hair, a brief pause before resuming its gentle rhythm. “You don’t care for him?” she asked, her tone calm, inviting, as if she’d sensed the truth I’d been hiding.
Relief surged, tempered by fear, as I faced my heart’s confession. “No,” I whispered, my voice breaking, the admission a weight lifted. “He’s like a brother, family. I can’t imagine… loving him that way, not the way I want to love someone.”
Mother smiled, a soft, teasing light in her eyes as she tapped my nose. “No need to be so dramatic, darling,” she said, her chuckle easing the tension.
“You don’t need to go tomorrow,” she added, her voice firm, a decision made. “I’ll speak with your father.”
“Really?” I sat up, hope flaring like a kindled flame, then faltered, duty tugging at me. “But the trade routes—what if—”
“Anna,” Mother cut in, her eyes locking onto mine, fierce with love and conviction, the same gaze that had guided me through lessons on leadership and sacrifice. “You’re our heir, yes, but you’re also our daughter. Above all, we want you to be happy, to live a life true to your heart.”
Tears pricked my eyes, gratitude swelling in my chest, but I held them back, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, Mother.”
“But,” she said, her tone softening, a gentle reminder of responsibility, “you need to be honest with Raymond. He cares for you deeply, and deserves your truth.”
Guilt twisted in my heart, the prospect of wounding Raymond’s sincere affection daunting, but I nodded, knowing I had to end it, to free him and myself from a future neither of us truly wanted.
The next afternoon, I arrived at the stables, my heart pounding with anticipation, my simple gown a quiet defiance of the court’s expectations.
Allen waited by the stable doors, two sleek horses saddled and gleaming, their coats brushed to a mirror-like shine.
His smile was bright, a beacon rivaling the sun, his dark eyes grounding me in the moment, a promise of freedom and connection.
“This is Storm,” he said, patting the neck of a black stallion, its muscles rippling with power, “and this is Lightning, the fastest in the stables.” His voice was warm, proud, a hint of excitement threading through it.
I approached Lightning, running my hand along her warm flank, her muzzle nuzzling my palm, her nose a grounding touch that steadied my nerves. “They’re beautiful,” I murmured, smiling as she nudged me, her eyes soft and trusting.
“Ready?” Allen asked, swinging onto Storm, with a fluid grace that belied his simple attire, his movements those of someone born to the saddle.
I mounted Lightning, feeling the coiled energy beneath her, her strength mirroring my own. “Always,” I said, my grin matching his, a shared challenge accepted.
We galloped out of the stables, the forest swallowing us whole, the river glinting like molten silver beside us, the path alive with the scent of pine and damp moss.
The wind roared in my ears, my heart soaring as we raced, the world blurring into a vibrant green and gold.
Allen led, his silhouette strong against the sunlight, glancing back to ensure I kept pace, his dark hair catching the light, his profile sharp yet softened by a smile that spoke of shared joy.
“Here!” he called, reining in at a wide meadow where wildflowers swayed in the breeze, a massive oak standing as a silent guardian, its gnarled roots cradling a patch of soft grass.
We tethered the horses, letting them to graze by a babbling stream, and Allen unpacked a simple picnic—crusty bread, golden cheese, and crisp apples—from his saddlebag, laying them out on a woven mat.
“You thought of everything,” I said, settling beside him, my gown fanning out on the grass, the simplicity grounding of the moment grounding me in a way the palace never could.
“I wanted to make you happy,” he said, his voice low, his dark eyes soft like spring pools, reflecting the sunlight in their depths. “Anna, meeting you… it’s like finding something I didn’t know I was searching for.”
My cheeks warmed, my heart skipping a beat, his words a melody I couldn’t ignore. “Allen…” I started, then faltered, lost in his gaze.
He took my hand, his touch gentle but electric, sending a jolt through me that set my nerves alight. “I know our worlds are different,” he said, his voice earnest, “but I can’t—”