Chapter 5
FIVE
TESS
The corridors of the estate stretched before them like something from a historical documentary—vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate stone carvings, vibrant tapestries depicting bear shifter battles, and tall windows that offered glimpses of the snow-covered landscape beyond.
Tess’s practical boots clicked against the polished marble floors, each step echoing in the vast space.
Queen Lysia moved beside her with the fluid grace of someone born to navigate these halls, her elegant dress whispering against the floor as they walked in contemplative silence.
The queen’s blue eyes remained fixed ahead, her composed features giving nothing away, but Tess caught the subtle tension in her shoulders—the kind that came from carefully managed stress.
I need this quiet to process whatever the hell just happened back there.
Because something had definitely happened in that office, something that defied every rational explanation Tess possessed.
She flexed her right hand, trying to dispel the persistent tingling that had started the moment Prince Korran’s skin touched hers.
The sensation refused to fade, as if her nerve endings had been rewired during that brief contact.
Bear shifter pheromones. That’s all. Heightened biochemical response to alien physiology.
But even as her scientific mind offered logical explanations, her body remembered the moment their eyes had locked across that office.
The way his deep brown gaze had dilated with something that looked dangerously close to hunger.
The way her pulse had accelerated not with fear, but with recognition—as if some primal part of her had been waiting her entire life for exactly that moment.
Ridiculous. You don’t even believe in that soulmate nonsense.
Yet she couldn’t shake the memory of how his massive frame had gone absolutely still when she’d entered the room.
Or how his grip had tightened on her hand for just a heartbeat longer than professional courtesy required.
Or how he’d released her hand like she’d burst into flames and then fled the room with all the grace of a panicked teenager.
Definitely not typical princely behavior.
She’d met powerful men before—department heads, research directors, grant committee chairs who controlled funding and careers with casual indifference.
But she’d never seen one of them lose composure so completely.
The Crown Prince of the Northern Dominion had looked at her like she represented either salvation or destruction, and he couldn’t decide which terrified him more.
When Queen Lysia had returned with him, the dynamic had shifted again.
The prince had seemed simultaneously distracted and overbearing, offering his personal assistance while maintaining careful physical distance.
Meanwhile, his mother had handled the entire situation with the poise of someone accustomed to managing crises—everything a queen should be.
I’m probably just unfamiliar with how things work here.
They reached the grand staircase, and Tess paused despite herself.
The sweeping marble steps curved upward, supported by carved stone pillars that depicted bears in various poses—hunting, protecting cubs, and standing in regal dignity.
Afternoon sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting jeweled patterns across the white stone.
This place makes the Smithsonian look modest.
“The guest wing is on the second floor,” Queen Lysia said, her voice carrying a cultured tone.
They climbed in continued silence, Tess’s analytical mind cataloging details.
The estate felt lived-in rather than simply opulent—family portraits lined the walls, showing generations of bear shifter royalty, and she noticed recent additions that included the queen herself.
Despite the obvious wealth, there was warmth here, evidence of a family rather than just a dynasty.
The corridor on the second floor was equally impressive, with doors spaced far enough apart to suggest rooms of considerable size. Queen Lysia stopped before an ornate door and turned the crystal handle.
“This will be your suite.”
Tess stepped through the doorway and felt her breath catch.
The space before her was larger than her entire Chicago apartment—a sitting area complete with plush furniture arranged around a massive stone fireplace, bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes, and windows that offered panoramic views of the snow-laden landscape.
Through an archway, she glimpsed a separate bedroom dominated by a four-poster bed that could comfortably sleep four people.
Holy shit.
“This is...” She turned slowly, taking in hand-carved furniture that belonged in a museum and artwork that probably cost more than her graduate school. “This is bigger than anywhere I’ve ever lived.”
The queen’s lips curved in what might have been amusement. “I hope you find these accommodations suitable.”
“Suitable?” Tess laughed, the sound slightly breathless. “This is incredible. Thank you for providing me with such a beautiful space for my stay.”
But as she spoke, she noticed the way Queen Lysia’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. The older woman’s composure remained perfect, but something troubled lurked beneath the surface—the same tension Tess had observed during their walk.
“I apologize for my son’s behavior earlier.” The queen’s voice carried genuine regret. “He’s under considerable pressure with everything happening regarding his father’s health and the additional responsibilities he’s taken on. He becomes overwhelmed by change.”
Change. Is that what I am?
“You don’t need to apologize, Your Majesty.” Tess set down her suitcases, the modest luggage looking absurdly out of place in the elegant room. “I understand that everyone must be under enormous stress. During my mother’s illness, I felt overwhelmed and stressed constantly, so I get it.”
The queen’s expression softened, genuine warmth replacing the careful politeness. “Thank you for understanding. Please, get settled in. Gabrielle will come by in an hour to escort you to lunch.”
“I look forward to getting to know everyone better.”
Queen Lysia nodded and moved toward the door but paused at the threshold. “Tess? My son is a good man. He simply carries the weight of many expectations.”
Then she was gone, leaving Tess alone with her thoughts and accommodations that screamed luxury she’d never experienced.
She opened her first suitcase and pulled out her practical clothes—jeans, sweaters, professional blouses that had seemed appropriate for a two-week consulting job. Now, surrounded by hand-woven tapestries and furniture that belonged in a palace, everything looked painfully ordinary.
The walk-in closet was literally the size of her apartment bedroom, complete with built-in drawers and enough hanging space for a small boutique’s worth of clothing. She hung up her few dresses and folded her sweaters and jeans into drawers that smelled faintly of cedar and lavender.
Two weeks. Then back to real life and hopefully a senior research position.
But as she unpacked, her mind kept drifting back to Korran. The way his presence had filled the space, his dark eyes intense and intelligent. The way his scent—something woodsy and clean with an underlying wildness—had made her pulse race.
Focus. You’re here to solve a medical mystery, not get distracted by the handsome prince.
She flexed her hand again, trying to dispel the lingering sensation from their handshake. Whatever biochemical reaction she’d experienced was irrelevant. She had work to do, a king to save, and a career to secure.
Besides, he’s clearly too intense and complicated anyway.
The man who’d fled his own office rather than spend another minute in her presence wasn’t exactly relationship material.
Not that she was looking for a relationship—she’d learned that lesson the hard way in graduate school with Professor Jacobs.
Never mix business with pleasure because it will cost something.
Just save the king. Get the promotion. Simple.
An hour later, the gentle rap of knuckles against her suite door pulled Tess from her contemplation. She’d been standing there looking out the tall windows, still processing the overwhelming luxury of her accommodations and the strange intensity of her earlier encounter with Prince Korran.
“Come in,” she called, smoothing down her practical blue blouse.
The door opened to reveal Gabrielle, the personal attendant who had briefly appeared when Tess first arrived at the estate and guided her and Gerri to that meeting with Prince Korran.
The woman moved with quiet grace, her dark hair pulled back in an elegant bun that emphasized her gentle features and observant brown eyes.
“Dr. Holt, I hope you’ve had time to settle in comfortably.” Gabrielle’s voice carried warmth despite its formal tone. “Are you ready for lunch?”
“Yes, absolutely.” Tess grabbed her black cardigan from the back of a chair. “This suite is amazing, by the way. I’ve never stayed anywhere so beautiful.”
A genuine smile curved Gabrielle’s lips as they stepped into the corridor.
“I’m pleased you find it suitable.” She paused, her expression becoming slightly hesitant.
“Prince Korran has requested to know your clothing and shoe sizes. He wants to make certain you have everything necessary to be comfortable here.”
He what?
Tess felt heat creep up her neck. “That’s really not necessary at all. I can just wash what I brought with me.”
Gabrielle’s soft laughter echoed in the marble hallway. “Oh no, you wouldn’t be doing any laundry or chores while you’re our guest. It’s truly no trouble to provide you with a more suitable wardrobe for your time here.”
More suitable? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?