Lucy's POV
The eerie silence in the great hall pressed on my ears until they rang, making me dizzy. Kenneth's warm hand anchored me in place, but the tension in my chest grew heavier by the second. My pulse quickened, anxiety spiking as I searched the King's stern face for some sign of acceptance—or rejection.
When he spoke at last, his voice was deep, commanding, and far more intimidating than I had prepared myself for.
"Welcome to our Kingdom, Lucy. Are you of the Fosters from the Northern Kingdom?"
Relief washed over me in a breathless wave. At least he was speaking, not dismissing me outright. "No, Your Majesty. I'm from the South," I replied, trying to sound calm though my hands trembled slightly at my sides.
He gave a single shake of his head, unreadable, then turned to Kenneth. "See me in my chambers in ten minutes." With that, the King's heavy robes swayed as he left the hall, leaving me to wonder where the Queen and Kenneth's siblings were.
Exhaustion settled over me—partly from the journey, but mostly from the relentless weight of anxiety pressing down since we arrived. All I wanted was to crawl into bed, gather my thoughts, and somehow make sense of this new life I had stepped into.
"Marco, take Lucy's luggage to one of the guest rooms on the fourth floor," Kenneth said firmly, then clasped my hand again. His touch was steady, but his silence unnerved me.
The castle doors swung wide, revealing an entrance hall so vast it stole my breath. Golden light glowed against walls dressed in rich wallpaper that practically screamed royalty. Chandeliers dripped from the ceiling like frozen starlight, and my eyes couldn't drink in the grandeur fast enough.
Kenneth remained quiet, his jaw tight. That worried me more than the King's sharp tone. I squeezed his hand gently, desperate for reassurance. He glanced down at me and offered the smallest, weary smile. It wasn't much, but it told me he felt the same storm of unease.
We entered a polished elevator that rose smoothly to the fourth floor. My stomach fluttered nervously as the doors opened into a hallway lined with ornate doors and glimmering sconces. Kenneth led me into a room that was nothing short of breathtaking.
The walls were painted a soft peach, the kind of shade that seemed to hold sunlight within it. It brightened my spirit instantly, though lime and royal blue had always been my favorites. Still, peach and pale yellow had a calming warmth I couldn't deny.
The room was spacious, with two additional doors I guessed were a walk-in closet and bathroom. My bags were already waiting, and two women in uniform moved gracefully about, unpacking my clothes. They bowed politely when I stepped in, but I quickly waved them off.
"I'll handle it," I said gently. It wasn't rudeness—I just couldn't get used to people doing things I could do myself. Growing up, my aunt—who I always called Mom—had made sure of that. She'd ensured I knew how to make my bed, sweep floors, cook simple meals, wash and iron clothes. Even when we'd had help at home, she insisted I learn. I owed her those skills now, for they kept me grounded in a place like this.
When the servants left, Kenneth turned to me, guilt flickering in his eyes.
"Hey," he said softly. "I'm sorry about how awkward things were outside. Don't worry, my parents will come around. They are welcoming people. I just… need to talk to them."
I nodded, smiling weakly. "I'll be okay, babe. Really. I'll shower, unpack, and rest a bit. Go see your family—they must have missed you."
His shoulders relaxed slightly. "Alright. I'll send someone to bring food up. You must be hungry."
My heart warmed at his thoughtfulness. "Thank you," I whispered, kissing him lightly before he left me alone in the beautiful but unfamiliar room I'd be calling mine for the next two weeks—if things worked out that long.
I unpacked slowly, folding clothes into neat stacks, then stepped into the bathroom. The hot shower was exactly what I needed. Water cascaded over me, easing tense muscles, massaging away the stress. I stayed longer than usual, reluctant to leave the comfort.
When I finally emerged, wrapped in a towel, a tray of steaming food awaited me on the table. My stomach growled in approval. Smiling, I slipped into a casual knee-length dress and devoured the meal like someone who hadn't eaten in days.
Afterward, I stared at the tray. Leaving it there felt wrong. But where was the kitchen in this palace?
Logic told me it had to be on the ground floor. Kitchens upstairs seemed ridiculous. How would they carry food up and down all the time? And what about fire hazards?
Determined, I grabbed the tray and opted for the staircase instead of the elevator. Each step echoed softly in the massive stairwell. By the time I reached the bottom, the castle felt eerily empty. No signs, no bustling staff—just endless doors.
With a sigh, I began knocking and peeking. The first door revealed a tidy office. The second, a grand dining room. My heart leapt—surely the kitchen would be nearby. But the third door opened to a sitting parlor. The fourth, a massive laundry room.
Frustration simmered. I was about to call out when muffled voices drifted from deeper within.
"Desiree, you won't believe it! Prince Kenneth asked me to bring food to his girlfriend. And she's human!" one voice whispered in shock.
I froze, clutching the tray tighter.
Of course I'm human. What else would I be? An angel? I huffed silently.
Another voice gasped. "What? Human? Unless… unless she's his fated mate. That's the only reason he would choose her over one of our kind."
"Our kind?" My heart slammed against my ribs.
Words like mate and fate swirled around me. Where had I heard such things before? And then it clicked—Twilight. That was where vampires and werewolves tossed those words about.
Oh my God. Could Kenneth…?
Panic tightened my throat. My hands shook as I tried to set the tray down quietly. I needed air, space, anything but this suffocating discovery.
Then one of them sniffed sharply. "Do you smell that? What if the human is here… and heard us?"
Fear electrified my body.
"She's close," the other said. "I can smell her."
That was all it took—I bolted.
I sprinted through the corridors, past two guards whose heads snapped up in confusion. I didn't stop. The castle doors loomed ahead, and I burst outside into open air, lungs burning. I turned left, feet pounding down a narrow path that led into the woods.
At last I collapsed under a tree, chest heaving. My thoughts spun wildly. Kenneth… my Kenneth. Was this what he meant when he said he was keeping something from me? Was he really… a werewolf?
The very idea rattled me. Weren't werewolves just myths? Legends for movies and books?
As fear tightened its grip, a sudden rustle nearby made my head snap up. Leaves shivered violently. Then came a growl so deep, so raw, it chilled me to the bone.
My breath caught as I turned.
And there it was.
Not a wolf.
A lion.
So close to the castle that my body went rigid with terror, every muscle screaming at me to run, yet I sat frozen, heart thundering in my ears.