The brush moved slowly through Elara's dark hair. She sat before her vanity, dressed in her nightgown. Everywhere was quiet, but Elara's mind wasn't calm. No, it was the opposite of calm.
She frowned at her reflection, brushing slower now, her gaze distant. That moment in the library lingered in her mind stubbornly. The king, standing close to the slave girl… Adina, wasn't it? The way he'd looked at her. The way he'd listened.
It was… odd.
"Nita," Elara called softly, and her maid appeared in seconds, bowing low.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Tell me, have you noticed anything strange about His Majesty lately?"
Nita blinked, cautious. "Strange… how do you mean, my lady?"
Elara set the brush down. "He seems different. Distracted. His temper is the same but… he notices things he never cared about before."
There was a pause.
Then a voice from behind chimed in sharply. "People like the king don't change, dear."
Elara turned slightly to see Lady Jocelyn, her great aunt, draped in a black dress, leaning against the doorway. "People like Thorne only bend when something forces them to," Jocelyn said, walking in. "And even then, it's never permanent."
"What's got you thinking about Thorne's behavior tonight?" she asked.
Elara smiled, "Nothing in particular, Auntie." She turned to face the mirror once again, but her mind still wasn't settled.
Thorne sat behind the desk, scanning the reports in front of him, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table. Caelum stood before him, waiting for the next order.
"Anything about the scouts?" Thorne asked, not looking up.
"Nothing significant yet," Caelum replied, "The rebels are still making small moves, but they're too scattered to pose any real threat—yet."
Thorne grunted in acknowledgment, "We'll need to tighten the noose before they get too comfortable."
Just as Caelum opened his mouth to reply, a hesitant knock came through. "Come in," he called out, and the door opened, revealing Matilda, the head maid. She bowed deeply to Thorne, her hands nervously clasped in front of her, her face pale.
"Come in, Matilda," Thorne voiced out.
The woman stepped in, one could see the fear in her eyes. The way she trembled like she was summoned to the devil's lair. "Your Majesty," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I… I was summoned?"
Thorne hummed, finally looking up. "I trust you know why you've been summoned, Matilda?"
Her eyes widened, and she glanced at Caelum fearfully. "I-I am afraid not, my king," she stammered.
Thorne hummed again, "What are your duties in this kingdom, Matilda?"
The woman swallowed hard, her palms began to sweat. "I- I take care of the internal affairs pertaining to the slaves and servants."
Thorne leaned back in his chair, his gaze sharpening. "You were put in charge of the slaves," he said, his voice low and cutting. "Yet they abandon their duties, pass their tasks onto others like cowards. You were meant to discipline them. Train them."
Matilda's hands trembled, she clutched her skirts. "I… I apologize, Your Majesty. It will not happen again."
"Your apologies mean nothing!" Thorne snapped, his tone sending a chill through the room. "If you cannot control mere slaves. If you can't do what you're meant to do. I will find someone who can. You're very disposable, Matilda."
Matilda gasped, she fell to her knees. "Please, my king! One more chance! I beg you!" she cried, her forehead almost touching the floor in her desperate bow.
Thorne watched her for some seconds longer. For a long moment, the room was thick with her desperate begging.
Finally, he waved a hand, dismissing her. "Get out of my sight. Fail again, and you won't just lose your position. You'll lose your tongue."
"T-thank you, my king. It won't repeat itself." She rushed out, scrambling to her feet, bowing repeatedly before running out of the room.
Caelum stood still, shocked even. What just happened? He looked at Thorne, brows furrowed. "Since when do you get involved in slave matters?" he asked.
"They are part of my kingdom," Thorne said casually, his eyes returning to the map in front of him. "I expect every part to function as it should."
Caelum tilted his head, now heavily confused. Thorne has never involved himself in anything pertaining to the slaves. Mostly it was Elara who took care of anything that went out of hand there.
He shook his head, wondering if his lack of sleep made him slow. It had to be.
Outside, standing by the door was Elara, her brows creased as Caelum's words reached her ears. Her mind rushed back to the previous day, what she had seen at the library and how this… something was happening, something she didn't like at all.
Hours later…
The office doors opened again, and Elara stepped in, dressed in a deep blue gown, her hair pinned neatly. She bowed her head slightly. "Forgive my lateness, Your Majesty."
Thorne, seated behind his desk, barely glanced up. "You're here now. Let's begin."
A few more nobles and commanders gathered around the table, ready to lay down their reports.
One of Thorne's aides stepped forward and handed him a stack of documents. Without a word, Thorne took them, flipping through the pages absently as the others began their discussions, troop movements, food supplies, reinforcement schedules.
He barely paid attention to their droning voices, his focus half on the papers in his hands, half elsewhere. The meeting dragged on, discussions bouncing from one subject to another. Strategies, border skirmishes, internal repairs. All things Thorne could solve in his sleep. He signed where he needed to sign, gave orders where he needed to command, until finally, they were done.
The nobles and commanders bowed one by one before stepping out. Caelum stayed behind, organizing the leftover parchments into neat stacks. Thorne leaned back in his chair, still going over the documents they'd all presented to him.
Elara stepped closer, a slim file in her hands.
"Your Majesty," she said softly, almost like an afterthought, "there's something else you should see. I almost forgot."
Thorne arched a brow, "What is it?"
"You see," Elara said as she passed the file to him, "When we gathered slaves from the packs, we did not properly vet them all. Some of them… have committed terrible crimes. I thought it best you be made aware, Your Majesty."
Thorne flipped the file open, skimming through the first few names. The listed crimes were theft, insubordination, minor violence. Nothing surprising. Nothing he hadn't seen before.
"It's normal," Thorne said, "Border packs always send their undesirables to us. Saves them the trouble."
Elara hesitated, then pressed gently, "But these aren't petty criminals, Thorne. Some have done… truly heinous things. I didn't think you would want them overlooked."
At that, he slowed his turning pages, his eyes narrowing slightly. He scanned through more records until his hand suddenly stilled.
There.
A name jumped out at him.
Adina.
His gaze sharpened, locked on the sheet as if the words themselves insulted him. His Lycan stirred under his skin.
Name: Adina
Former title: Luna Adina, Once mated to pack alpha Roman.
Former Allegiance: Crystal Moon Pack.
Crime: Murder of the Alpha's heir. Attempted assassination of her half-sister. Pathological liar. Falsified pregnancy. Diagnosed barren.