Maravelle stood over her, her eyes filled with icy contempt.
"Know your place, foolish girl."
Lara slowly pressed her hand against her burning cheek.
"You will kneel whenever you come before me. Is that understood?"
Lara swallowed hard. "Y-Yes, Your Highness."
"Good."
Maravelle studied her for a moment before speaking again.
"Do you know why I summoned you?"
"No, Your Highness."
The queen turned slightly and gestured toward the woman standing behind her.
"This is Lady Selene."
Selene stepped forward gracefully, her silk gown flowing behind her. She looked down at Lara with a faint, satisfied smile.
"She is Thornak's betrothed."
Lara's expression shifted slightly. Maravelle noticed, gave a dry smile and continued.
"I thought it was only proper that you meet the woman who will one day become your Queen."
She allowed a moment of silence to pass.
"I have heard you have grown close to my son. Do not misunderstand his kindness. Thornak found you wounded and alone. He offered you shelter because he has compassion. Nothing more."
Lara remained silent.
"I am telling you this for your own good. Do not build dreams from a moment of kindness. To him, you are nothing more than a passing distraction."
Lara's fingers tightened against the fabric of her dress. Her cheek still burned, but the pain was nothing compared to the humiliation spreading through her chest.
She wanted to defend herself. She wanted to tell the queen that she had never asked for Thornak's attention or his kindness.
But will she believe her? She might even get punished for speaking out.
Maravelle gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
"You are dismissed. Get out of my sight."
Lara didn't wait another second. She scrambled to her feet, tears blurring her vision as she turned and practically ran from the room.
....
The next morning...
Liam sat on a low stone wall beside the palace training yard, quietly sketching with a piece of charcoal.
Since moving to the capital, he often came to the castle to study with the noble children.
Most ignored him.
A few accepted him.
Others...
Not so much.
Nearby, several children chased each other across the courtyard.
Among them was Bryt, the spoiled son of a visiting lord.
He noticed Liam sitting alone and grinned. Without hesitation, he walked over.
"Still hanging around the palace?" Bryt mocked. "I thought this place was for nobles."
Liam kept his eyes on his drawing. "I'm not bothering anyone."
Bryt snorted.
"That's because no one notices you."
The other children laughed.
Liam quietly tightened his grip on the charcoal but said nothing.
Not far away, several boys were practicing with wooden swords.
Bryt, walked over to them sneering at one of them. The boy was smaller than the others and had missed several swings.
"What a joke," Bryt laughed loudly. "You swing a sword like an old woman. No wonder everyone says you'll never be a real warrior when you have to fight with your claws."
The other boys chuckled.
The young noble was Aedric's son, Corin. He lowered his head but said nothing.
Liam spoke up from his drawing. "Maybe he's still learning."
Bryt turned toward him. "What did you say?"
"I said everyone learns at a different pace."
Bryt rolled his eyes.
"And who asked you? You're just a commoner who got lucky enough to wander into the palace."
Liam stood.
"Making fun of someone because they're not as good as you doesn't make you stronger."
Bryt scoffed. "It makes me better than him."
"No," Liam replied calmly. "It just makes you a bully."
Bryt's face darkened. "You little..."
"If you've got a problem with someone, take it to the teachers. But we both know you won't, because you only talk big."
Bryt smirked. "Didn't think you two were friends."
"We're not. But he's still the son of a Prince, and you..."
"Status doesn't mean strength," he shot back. "Bloodline won't save him when it matters."
"Maybe not," Liam said. "But it's still more than you'll ever have. Now go bother someone who cares."
Bryt's mouth curled in mock offense, but Liam stared him down until the boy finally muttered something and walked off.
Later that morning, as Liam was sitting by the garden fountain, still sketching, Corin approached him. He didn't say anything at first. Just sat down beside him and pulled something from his pocket.
It was a small wooden wolf, whittled roughly but clearly made with effort.
"My grandfather taught me how to carve," Corin muttered, not quite meeting Liam's eyes. "I made this one, but it's not really my style."
He held it out awkwardly.
"For you."
Liam blinked, surprised. "Really?"
Corin shrugged, then gave a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching. "I heard what you said earlier. About me."
Liam smiled. "I hate bullies."
"Me too… thanks." Then he stood up quickly. "Come on. I know where the kitchen staff hides the sweetbread. You in?"
Liam grinned and jumped to his feet, clutching the wolf in his palm. "Absolutely."