Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
REIYANA
S everal days passed in a quiet rhythm, with Reiya immersing herself in palace life. Mornings were filled with lessons—language, history, culture, court etiquette—under Lady Neda’s kind but watchful guidance, leaving her mind buzzing with new knowledge.
Kaelen and Alarik, consumed by council meetings, diplomatic talks, and administrative tasks, had little time to spare. She refrained from interrupting their busy schedules, spending most of her days in the company of Thalina and Lady Neda.
But her nights belonged to them .
They still took their turns with her, never together—reserving that final surrender for the moment her Heat arrived.
But they prepared her, patient and relentless, their hands mapping every inch of her with slow, knowing intent.
Calloused fingers trailed down the curve of her spine, teasing, pressing against that forbidden place with just enough pressure to make her shudder.
Each time, she writhed beneath them, breath catching at the unfamiliar stretch, but they never pushed—only murmured dark promises against her skin.
Soon .
The word sent a thrill through her, anticipation curling deep in her belly, making her crave what she was only just beginning to understand.
This morning, the garden was quiet, steeped in sunlight. Reiya sat beside Lady Neda beneath the shade of a flowering acacia tree, the older woman’s needle gliding in and out of pale silk as she embroidered. A gentle breeze stirred the blossoms overhead, scattering petals across the flagstones.
During these halcyon days, thoughts of home lingered at the edges of Reiya’s mind. Just that morning, a letter had arrived from Aethonia. She’d read it twice—once for the words, and again for the weight between them.
Her mother wrote she’d wept with joy upon hearing news of Reiya’s betrothal, though there were concerns about leaving Aethonia while the situation with Castiel remained unresolved.
The investigation continued, but he’d vanished. No ships under Aethonia’s banners had carried him across the Issoirea Sea. No merchants, no envoys, no whispers in the courts of the nine kingdoms spoke of his return.
The Duke of Caerelle had responded swiftly, his official missive arriving in the royal court within days of the accusations.
‘My son is no traitor,’ he had written. ‘House Vaelmont has always stood beside Aethonia, as we have stood beside the nine kingdoms since their founding. This is a grave misunderstanding, one I trust will soon be resolved.’
He also pledged his full cooperation in the search.
Reiya wasn’t sure what to believe.
Had Castiel’s father truly been blindsided, and was only desperate to believe of his son’s innocence? Or was this simply a well-calculated move—a diplomatic gesture meant to satisfy scrutiny without conceding anything?
The duke was a master of politics. That was the Vaelmont legacy. A dynasty of Betas, their lineage hadn’t been blessed with any Alphas, yet they were one of the most powerful in the nine kingdoms—not by force or bloodlines, but by something far more frightening: influence.
For centuries, they had positioned themselves as the quiet arbiters of diplomacy, brokering peace, weaving alliances, ensuring the balance of power never tipped too far in any direction. Their ancestors’ faces were immortalized on solaris coins—a constant, silent reminder of their place in history.
They never ruled. Yet no ruler ignored them.
‘The Vaelmonts are an old and powerful house,’ her father had written. ‘We cannot afford to make them our enemies without irrefutable proof.’
Reiya set the letter down with a sigh.
Even if Castiel was guilty, his family might be innocent. They’d fight tooth and nail to defend him. And even if they were involved, they’d never admit it. They’d never let their name bear the stain.
If Aethonia pressed too hard, it wouldn’t be Castiel or the Vaelmonts who suffered.
It would be her family.
And, sooner or later, the conflict would ripple out to her people.
Across from her, Lady Neda looked up from her embroidery, brows drawing together. “Unpleasant news from home, my dear? Not about your family’s visit, surely?”
Reiya ran her thumb along the parchment’s edge. “They’re hesitant to make the journey. There’s unrest over Castiel’s disappearance, and my father fears it unwise to leave the kingdom.”
Lady Neda’s expression softened. “I’m sorry to hear that. Perhaps the wedding can proceed, and you can return to Aethonia with Kaelen and Alarik to celebrate at a later date. That is often how royal marriages are handled.”
Reiya nodded, though her focus lingered on her embroidery. Only now did she notice the pattern she had stitched—Talharen knots, a symbol of safe passage on a long journey.
She nearly smiled, her worries momentarily lifting, replaced by thoughts of the Xians.
Did Xian Jun still wake at dawn to sharpen his knives? Did Mei Mei still chatter as she wove flowers into Su Lian’s hair? Had Ru Rong perfected her salve for joint pain?
She missed the quiet ease of their wagon—the warmth of shared meals by the fire, the nights beneath open skies, the way they had accepted her without question.
For a time, she’d simply been Yara, free of titles and expectations .
Now, surrounded by silk, stone, and the shadows of Castiel’s machinations, she longed for the freedom on the road once more.
She looked up when a young servant approached, bowing low before placing a small scroll wrapped in emerald silk on the stone table. Without a word, he withdrew.
Lady Neda paused mid-stitch, watching as Reiya brushed her fingers over the scroll. A familiar fragrance—roses, with a whisper of musk and frankincense—drifted from the silk binding.
Anna?s’s signature fragrance.
She untied the ribbon, scanning the elegant script before passing the letter to Lady Neda.
“Anna?s has invited me to walk the promenade to Luneth’s temple,” she said evenly. “To offer prayers.”
Lady Neda read in silence, her expression composed, but Reiya caught the subtle pause in her breath, the slight tightening of her fingers on the parchment.
“A gracious invitation,” the woman murmured. “On the surface.”
“Too gracious,” Reiya mused, gaze drifting toward the palace walls. “This isn’t just a simple outing.”
Lady Neda rolled the scroll and set it aside. “No, it is not.”
Reiya studied her—the delicate tension in her posture, the way her fingers curled just slightly around the embroidery frame. She had thought often of the consort these past few days, of the way her smile never quite reached her eyes whenever the king’s attention drifted toward Anna?s.
“Do you think His Majesty will marry her?” she asked at last.
Lady Neda’s hands tightened briefly before she resumed stitching.
“The king is a man of duty,” she said after a moment. “He will do what he believes is best for Asadia.”
It was an answer without being one, and Reiya knew it.
She thought of the way Anna?s carried herself at court—poised, confident, utterly sure of her own worth. The woman was not just an Omega looking to secure any mate. She was playing a larger game.
“And if it happens?” she asked. “If the king does marry her?”
Lady Neda paused, her needle hovering over the silk. Her expression didn’t change, but for a moment, just a moment, something in her gaze looked almost . . . tired.
“Then I will smile,” she said, her voice calm, steady, “and play my part.”
Reiya set down her embroidery, a hollow ache yawning in her chest. “Lady Neda?—”
“I have had a place by his side for years, child,” the woman said gently. “That does not mean it was ever truly mine to keep.”
She wanted to argue that love and loyalty should matter more than politics, but the words caught behind her teeth. Speaking them aloud would only reveal her naivety, as if she hadn’t yet grasped how power truly moved in the nine kingdoms.
Lady Neda, despite all her grace and dignity, was not an Omega, or even a highborn.
That, more than anything, made all the difference.
Betas didn’t possess the same primal pull, the instinctive bond that wove Alphas and Omegas together as if they were carved from the same thread of fate.
An Alpha could love a Beta, could cherish her, but the world had already decided where his truest desires would lead.
The bond between Alpha and Omega was a force of nature, undeniable, inescapable.
For a Beta woman, standing between that inevitable pull, could it ever be enough?
Did Lady Neda fear that fate? Had she always known it was only a matter of time before her place at the king’s side became obsolete?
Reiya’s heart ached for her, for the silent strength in the way she held herself, as if she could will away the inevitable. But even the strongest walls could not hold against the tide forever.
She exhaled, glancing at the invitation once more. “If I refuse Anna?s’s invitation, it will be seen as an insult.”
“Indeed.” Lady Neda’s gaze flickered with something almost wry. “His Majesty spoke of harmony at the desert picnic. Anna?s knew you cannot refuse when she sent the invitation.”
Reiya turned the parchment between her fingers. “Then I will accept.”
Lady Neda’s brows lifted slightly, though she didn’t look surprised .
“The court expects us to be at odds,” Reiya said. “If I refuse, it feeds their entertainment. But if I go, I can see what she truly wants.”
The consort’s lips curved just slightly, though her expression remained careful. “Precisely.”
Reiya smoothed the silk of her embroidery. “Kaelen and Alarik won’t like it.”
“No, they won’t.”
“But they’ll understand.”
“They will. Because they trust you.”
Lady Neda set her embroidery aside. “I will ask Marzius to take a few soldiers and accompany you. He has been Kaelendrin’s captain of the guard for years; he’s even turned down promotions in the king’s service out of loyalty to the princes.”