Chapter 12
My cheeks are killing me. I’ve been smiling and greeting what feels like every person in the kingdom for the past hour. Everyone seemed delighted to meet me, pure joy radiating from them as they congratulated me.
As if I did anything to be appointed High Queen. As if three people hadn’t died for me to make it here.
Little girls dressed in their best outfits approached the throne, wearing crowns made of branches and wildflowers.
No one attempted to touch the stag lying beside me, instead choosing just to stare at him and keep a healthy distance.
Finally, Ivan escorted me out to the terrace where I immediately downed a glass of champagne.
The stag remained in front of the High Throne.
Now, Cally and I stand on the terrace, overlooking the garden and the perfectly manicured yard.
It’s a beautiful day. The sun shines high in the sky—not a cloud to be seen.
People filter through the grounds, laughing, drinking, and eating.
Families sit with plates brimming with food, and children roll through the grass, gleeful shrieks ringing through the air.
A couple watches their two sons race across the massive space before speeding back to their parents.
Based on their speed, I assume they’re of House Canis, likely wolf hybrids.
Prince Barrett walks past the garden with a young female in a russet brown gown.
They share a laugh as they breeze past a neatly-trimmed rose bush.
“Are you ready for tonight?” Cally asks, grabbing her glass of champagne from the table.
“I suppose. I’m more ready for tonight when I’m in bed, asleep,” I admit.
“It’s been a busy weekend for you, Your Majesty,” she says, grinning behind her glass of champagne.
Elle walks up to us, her expression grim.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as she joins us at the table.
“Incoming,” is all she mutters before I turn my head back in the direction she came.
A male and a female approach us slowly, both wearing crowns made of silver gold. Their emerald eyes pop in stark contrast to their chestnut hair. They stand tall as they walk toward us, their steps in sync with one other.
When the couple reaches our table, they both bow briefly before straightening.
“Your Majesty,” she greets me, not even deigning to look at Cally or Elle.
“My husband and I didn’t get the chance to extend our condolences for your loss yesterday.
We were so sorry to hear about your father.
” She glances at my crown and continues, “On a happier note, we wanted to congratulate you on your coronation and wish you a happy reign.”
“Oh, well, thank you so much,” I say, still not sure who they are.
“I believe you met our children yesterday, Koa and Cassia,” the male’s deep voice interjects.
“We’re the King and Queen of House Panthera.
My name is Katze, and this is my wife, Issa,” he says, gesturing toward the stunning female at his side.
“I think I speak for the entire kingdom when we say we’re looking forward to getting to know you since you’ve been…
” he pauses, searching for the right word, before continuing, “absent.”
I bristle at his choice of words. As if I had a choice in my absenteeism.
“Yes, unfortunately, I was unaware who my father was. But I am happy to be here now,” I say, feeling like I might break my face with the false smile I’ve forced onto it.
He surveys me cooly. “Happy is an interesting choice of words, given your path to the throne, wouldn’t you say?”
I freeze, feeling like prey caught in the trap that he laid out for me.
Issa looks like she’s holding back a smirk. Holly did not prepare me for this.
If there were an Ice Court, they would be its rulers.
“I’m looking forward to getting to know Prince Koa,” I say lamely, unsure of how to navigate myself out of this trap.
“I’m glad,” Issa says, even though she looks anything but. “It was lovely to meet you.” She and Katze turn on their heels and walk away.
When they’re well out of earshot, I turn to Elle and hiss, “What was that?”
“Some of the kings and queens of the courts are…” she hesitates for a moment, seeming to search for the right word. “Well, they’re not exactly happy about you being the High Queen.”
“Well, neither am I, but why not?” I whisper as someone passes our table.
“For one, they don’t know you, and they’re not exactly confident in your ability to lead the kingdom,” she says with a grimace.
“Plus, they’re a bit unsettled with the way the next High King is going to be chosen.
The future of the kingdom is undetermined right now, and nobody knows what to expect. ”
“House Canis was fine,” I counter.
“They’ve always been strong supporters and allies of the Deer Court. House Panthera, on the other hand…There was some tension there.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
A waitress walks past us with a tray of champagne floating above her hand. “We don’t have the time to get into it, and this isn’t the space to discuss it,” she says, glancing around pointedly.
“Panthera,” Cally mutters with disgust before downing her glass of champagne and setting it on the table.
The waitress, a deer hybrid, lazily floats another glass of champagne over to Cally.
“Thank you,” Cally says.
“My pleasure. Anything for you, Your Highness?” the waitress asks.
I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
She walks away, scanning the room for any other empty champagne glasses.
“See? Not the place,” Elle says, eyes still on the waitress. “There are listening ears everywhere.”
“Fine,” I mutter. “Tell me later.”
“Already starting with the orders,” Cally mutters.
Elle snorts as she takes her leave, saying something about checking in with Ivan.
The moment she steps away, guests begin approaching me with congratulations.
Their names and faces start to blur together after a while.
Thankfully, Cally stays with me the whole time and fills in the awkward silences when I run out of things to say.
After another hour of small talk with the guests, Elle returns. “You have a guest who wants to see you in the throne room.”
I tilt my head and narrow my eyes in confusion. “What? Who is it?”
She doesn’t say anything else, just turns and gestures for me to follow her. People part for us as we make our way through the crowd. Elle leads me to the throne room and says, “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”
I steel myself, not knowing what I’m about to walk into.
The door spits me out onto the back of the stage in the throne room.
The stag is still lying in front of the throne, eyes locked onto a female standing stock-still, her back turned to the throne.
Black, thick hair cascades down her back in soft waves, her slight frame robed in a silver satin gown.
Willa.
She turns when she hears the door shut behind me.
Her dark eyes find mine, and she smiles, her eyes crinkling when they find the crown on my head.
She forms a deep bow then straightens and says, “Your Majesty,” her smile still on her face.
It hasn’t even been a week since I last saw her, but she somehow looks older, a sharp crease now forming between her brows.
I don’t return her smile. Hers slowly disappears as we stand staring at each other.
“Mae, I’m sorry,” she whispers like I’m a skittish animal that might flee. I stand still, waiting for more from her. “Your mother—”
“Is dead,” I snap. I will not allow her to blame my mother for her mistake. “She has been dead for my entire life. You have had twenty-five years to tell me the truth.” My voice is flat, deadly.
She straightens at my tone. “You have no idea what it was like growing up the way we did. We were pitted against each other, forced to train for hours every day as children. Your mother did not want that for you. She didn’t want you to grow up with this ball and chain attached to your ankle.
” I don’t miss the way she glances at my crown as she spits the word “chain.”
“She wanted you to know freedom, true freedom, not confined to a life of this.” She throws her hands up, gesturing toward the throne. Her cheeks are slightly flushed, and there’s a hard look in her eyes. She looks…angry. Like it was my choice to be here, and she’s pissed that I chose it.
“Well, Willa, I’m now confined to a life of this, and I’m woefully unprepared for the job,” I spit back.
She takes a deep breath and looks at the ground. Her hands straighten at her sides, flattening against the cool satin of her gown.
“Mae,” she says in a measured tone, “I want to help you and be there for you. I want to start over. It is my deepest regret that I didn’t tell you about who you were sooner. I—”
I put a hand up, cutting her off a second time.
“Stop. It’s not. You regret it because my father was murdered, forcing the secrets you’ve been keeping to come out.
You regret that it wasn’t your choice to tell me yourself.
How does that feel? Knowing your choices were taken from you?
” My voice is raised now. Behind me, the stag huffs a breath.
For a moment, Willa doesn’t speak. Her fingers twitch at her sides, one hand clenching and unclenching. Finally, she says, “You’re right. It was wrong of me. I should have told you.”
“That’s all you have to say to me?” I scoff. “You lied to me for my entire life, and that’s all you have to say?”
“Please,” she says, her voice pleading.
I cross my arms and stare at her in disbelief. I won’t accept that so easily. Willa’s betrayal stung, but not just because she lied to me for decades. I will never know who I could have been if I had known the unconditional love of a father or the unbreakable bond of a sister.
“You stole a family from me,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper.
The silence stretches between us like an ocean, its violent, churning waves fueled by my anger. Me on one side, Willa on the other.