4. The Presentation
THE PRESENTATION
I joined Leif for breakfast in the late morning, while a maid, Rossa, was pouring him a cup of tea. Leif gawked at me as though staring at a spectre.
“What happened?! You look like you haven’t slept for a day or two!” he exclaimed.
“That’s because I haven’t ...” I grumbled, dropping myself into the soft cushion-lined chair next to him, grabbing a bread roll.
Leif fixed his incredulous gaze on the fresh bruise near the left corner of my mouth. “Did you get into a fight already?!”
I didn’t really want to get into the details about last night’s fight, even though I had won most of the rounds. The maid was pouring me a cup of herbal tea at the time, so I took the chance to change the subject: “Is there mead or ale?”
The maid gave me a confused look. “Mead? In the morning?”
“What, you have a time limit for mead service or something?” I raised one brow.
Leif cleared his throat and whispered, “It’s not southern custom to drink in the morning, brother ...”
“Alright ...” I shrugged. “Some buttermilk then?”
“Buttermilk?” She was even more perplexed, as though I was speaking a different language. “Would regular sweetened milk be okay?”
“It’s alright, Rossa, my brother is just being difficult. Regular milk is good.” Leif smiled politely at the maid.
I rolled my eyes but didn’t insist, lest I be called “difficult,” and moved to load my bread with butter.
After Rossa poured me the milk and left the room, Leif said softly, “Today is important for us; we need to make a good impression. Promise me you’ll behave, please?”
“When have I not behaved?” I said with my mouth full.
“Remember that time the Jarl of Bloodmoon and his son came to visit? You knocked three of his son’s teeth out.”
“Yeah, you mean that asshole who didn’t know how to take no for an answer and tried to force-kiss you?”
“He was drunk.”
“That was not a legit excuse, an alpha should know how to hold his liquor,” I said spitefully. “He was lucky I only knocked out three of his teeth.”
“And it almost cost our good relationship with the Bloodmoon. You need to stop overprotecting me, Fenris.” Leif put a hand on my hand. “Especially this time, the stakes are too high. We need Nocturne’s support.”
I hated this whole arrangement, but I also knew Leif was speaking the truth. I nodded, sighing deeply. “Fine, I’ll try my best not to punch anyone during the Presentation.”
“And go get some sleep before the Presentation, will you? We can’t let the southern court think the future Jarl of Winterthrope looks like a wild wolf all the time.” He chuckled, but then he noticed the finger-shaped bruises on my wrist and frowned in concern. “What’s this?”
“Nothing.” I yanked my hand back, pulling down my sleeve. “Slammed a door on my hand accidentally.”
I tried to get some sleep in the early afternoon, when most werewolves would nap, but the sleep was restless. I was having that same dream again.
The village I grew up in was burning and screams echoed through the crackling of flames consuming wood.
The omegas and young werewolf cubs were vulnerable and defenceless against predators, with no adult alpha to protect them.
The vampires were having a scrumptious feast. They tore their victims’ flesh from their bodies with excessive savagery and guzzled their blood, enjoying their preys’ quickly waning struggle as life drained out of them.
My mother was lying on the ground, right in front of our cottage. A vampire lay on top of her like a small mountain, his black mantle covering her body, only her pale, blank face exposed.
As though sensing my gaze, she turned her head in my direction and mouthed a silent: “Run.”
I jolted awake from the dream noticing that the sun had already begun to set.
I sat on the bed for a while, rubbing my face, trying to shake off the horror that followed me out of the nightmare.
I needed to get ready for the Presentation, so I poured some water into the basin to wash my face.
Then, I tidied my hair before changing into a more ceremonial tunic.
My mouth fell open when I went to Leif’s room to collect him.
He was wearing a baby blue, silky tunic that hugged his slender frame perfectly, adorned with beaded turquoise necklaces and a silver-threaded embroidered belt.
A silver fillet with a blue topaz that echoed the blue of his eyes was set over his forehead and braided into his white gold tresses. He looked veritably radiant.
“How do I look?” He smiled, turning around to give me a better view.
I said, sincerely, “Anyone with eyes will choose you over those overdressed peacocks out there, no doubt.”
I gave him an arm to hold while we made our way to the audience hall, imitating how other clan leaders escorted their candidates. I squared my shoulders and tried to look confident and intimidating, but Leif told me quietly to tone down the menace because I was scaring people.
A line was forming outside the audience hall.
It was the first time I saw so many werewolves dressed no less flamboyantly than vamps crowded together, and the strong scents of perfumes almost choked me.
The omegas and female betas dressed as though they were competing in some sort of pageant.
Feathers, laces, gems, pearls and spangles ...
Some of them could barely walk under the heavy fabrics and had to have a maid to hold their gown.
How would they even use the bathroom? This was so fucked up that it was almost hilarious.
The royal chamberlain and several stewards were busy ushering people to the right spot in the line according to the order of the list.
Upon seeing us, the royal chamberlain approached, plastering on that same condescending fake smile. “Ah, Lord Fenris, Son of Jarl Harald, you made quite an impression last night.”
Was the motherfucker mocking me?
Leif gave me a startled look, creasing his brows, as though asking, “What is he talking about?”
I crossed my arms and grinned at him. “I’m glad that the court is entertained. I’m still owed some prizes, since the three who lost the bet were unconscious at the time and couldn’t pay up. But I’m looking forward to seeing Nocturne’s best warriors honour their word.”
“Unconscious?” Leif blinked. His expression gradually became more alarmed.
The smug smile on the chamberlain’s face faltered a little.
Did they expect me to forgo my prize? Those three assholes were going to run naked, especially Rydel. I would fucking insist on that.
However, the chamberlain didn’t lose his composure. He ushered us to stand behind an omega female who had probably bathed in rose perfume.
The smell of artificial roses was so strong that it already gave me a headache. Her mother and chaperone, an older female beta who was probably Luna of some small southern clan, was lecturing her about not slouching.
The candidates were secretly checking each other out, silently comparing themselves. I noticed that several omegas were scrutinizing Leif with a vague, jealous ire, since Leif was already standing out among the crowd, even though he didn’t decorate himself like them.
A sinking feeling sat in my stomach. I wasn’t lying when I said anyone with eyes would choose Leif, but in this case, I didn’t want him chosen.
Perhaps I could still get him out of this, though. Since I had probably made Damien my sworn enemy last night. Surely Damien wouldn’t want me to become his brother-in-law.
Silently, I observed the bustling around me and noticed the order of the lineup was also based on factors pertaining to favouritism, such as the strength of the clan and the closeness of their relationship to the crown.
Since Winterthrope had only expressed interest in joining the Kingdom of Nocturne recently and had little to no court connection, we were placed at the end.
There were only a few northern clans behind us.
A small, soft voice said behind me, “Um ... excuse me, are you the warrior who saved Olaf last night?”
I turned around and saw a male omega roughly Leif’s age smiling at me shyly. He had dark brown hair, even darker eyes, and a delicate face. I had never seen him before.
He smelled like warm milk.
“Olaf?” I asked, unsure of his name.
“He is my bodyguard. He was beaten badly by a man called Rydel last night, but you stepped in and saved him,” the omega said, bowing his head slightly. “I’m Arne, son of Jarl Viggo of the Sombrewood Clan. I just want to thank you for your bravery and kindness.”
He glanced up at me through his long eyelashes.
I didn’t talk to omegas very often, with Leif being the only exception. I was a little flustered and stammered, “Um, don’t ... don’t mention it. We northern clans always help each other.”
“I wish I had a chance to thank you in person,” he said softly, giving me a few more sheepish glances. “Perhaps some tea?”
“Um, sure, we’ll be here for some time.” I shrugged, trying to appear casual and nonchalant.
“That sounds great,” he said, smiling again, before returning to his chaperone.
“So ...” Leif said in a whisper, “someone was playing hero last night. Was this your version of ‘behaving well?’”
“That was before you told me to behave well ...”
“Well.” Leif chuckled softly, quickly glanced in Arne’s direction. “Even if I don’t get selected, at least you may go home with a mate.”
“Don’t be stupid. I’m too busy to start a family. Besides, he is here as a candidate.” I scoffed.
The candidates were called one by one. The first ones called in were the male omega and female beta from the Eclipse Clan, presented by their clan leader, Lord Gillian.