Bouvier
Bouvier found Whitley in the Kitchen preparing a tray. It was almost lunch. She stood beside him. He did not stop his task.
"Back away at once, Madame!" He barked.
Bouvier did as he said. She was instantly humiliated in front of the kitchen help which was two cooks, a milkmaid, and a few farm hands delivering fresh vegetables. They were all looking at silently looking on as Whitley went on his tirade. He whipped around from his task and walked over to her. Whitley was 6'3. He was towering over Bouvier.
She had to look up at him. His face wore a displeased look.
He spoke to her like he was spitting on her, "I understand that where you hail from manners and etiquette are not taught. Furthermore, your career of choice lets me know that I would never entrust your hands to touch anyone's food."
Bouvier took note of how he made sure everyone heard him say that to her. Bouvier put her head down. "I apologize. I-I needed to have a word with you."
He looked disgusted at her uttering the words.
"You needed to have a word with me. Whatever for? And what makes you think that I would have one with the likes of you." He looked down his nose at her.
Bouvier once again felt her cheeks growing hot from the embarrassment of it all. She quickly scanned the room everyone was eavesdropping but pretending to be working. No one was going to help her out of this. She looked back up at him.
"Well? What do you want?" He barked.
Bouvier jumped. He was making her scared. She could feel her stomach turning in knots. She had decided to do this for Sylvie, but now with Whitley acting so aggressively toward her, she wasn't so sure.
She spoke, "I-It is about Lady Canis. She wishes to hold an audience with King Alpha Adolf."
As if she had said a swear word Whitley snatched up her right arm, yanking and dragging her from the kitchen. She held on to his arm to steady herself and not stumble on her skirts. Bouvier was confused. Whitley whipped her around and pushed her up against the hallway wall. She hit her head. Bouvier almost saw stars. She almost fell to the floor and Whitley held her up.
"I hope this isn't a ploy from you to try and sway King Alpha Adolf."
Bouvier was shocked at the accusation. Whitley truly despised her. She mustered courage then. "You would do well to stop pushing me around and speaking to me like this."
Whitley scoffed at her taunt. "Why? You are nothing more than a common whore." He sneered.
She tried to move he pushed her back up against the wall.
"I may be a common whore, but your King Alpha enjoys my presence. Would he be alright knowing how you are treating me? You are just as much a servant as me. He has also entrusted me with the well-being of his son's new bride. How do you think he would fare hearing you failed to do your duty and see to Lady Canis' needs?" She felt her heart beating wildly.
She was angry now. She knew she couldn't get out of control. Whitley smirked at her, "I take it back you are s clever whore."
Bouvier spoke then, "Lady Canis wants to speak with him immediately."
"Well, since you are her chaperone you do not need my permission. You are now the point of contact between Lady Canis and King Alpha Adolf. Do you understand?" Whitley asked.
"Yes, I do. Where is he?" She asked.
"He is on the lawn with a few of his subjects. Some of them have come a week early for the Pack games." Whitley explained.
Bouvier had no idea others were staying in the castle. Adolf had never mentioned it to her.
"Where is the lawn?" She asked Whitley.
Whitley rolled his eyes. "Wait here." He commanded.
Bouvier did as he said, and a few minutes later, she saw him and three other male servants holding serving trays trailing behind him. Bouvier walked side by side with Whitley. She was impressed once again by the sprawling manor and its natural beauty. They arrived on the lawn, which was lush and green. The sun was out, taking away some of the chill in the air.
Bouvier wished she would have worn a shawl. It was too late now. She looked ahead a few yards ahead. She saw three men standing beside a white wrought iron table laden with drinks. When they reached the trio. Bouvier could smell the cigars. Adolf's back was turned to her.
"Whitley, what did cook whip up for us-" He turned and saw Bouvier standing beside Whitley as the servants set the places at the table. "Madame, what are you doing here?" He asked.
He didn't look happy to see her. Bouvier should have known that he wouldn't, but it still hurt a little.
She curtsied deep. "Please forgive my intrusion, King Alpha. I wish to have a word with you. It is about Lady Canis."
She saw the other two men looking at them. He gently took her elbow and walked her away from everyone.
"Tell me what how can I be of assistance to my new family member." He said.
"Lady Canis would like a little more freedom around the manor. I am not sure you know, King Alpha Randolf has relegated her to his suites. I am not sure why, but if he knew Sylvie he would know she doesn't do well confined." She looked at him. He was assessing her.
"And are you sure this request isn't coming from you?"
"King Alpha?" She was caught off guard. She had expected the question from Whitley, but not from him.
"Sylvie gaining more freedom means more freedom for you does it not, Madame?" He pointed out.
"I had not noticed." She lied.
Adolf did something unexpected. He laughed. The sound startled everyone around, including Bouvier.
"You amuse me. Unfortunately Madame I am unable to reverse my son's decision. If he has relegated her to their suites until his return then she must comply. A war is afoot and we all must do our part. I am sorry," And with those words, he left her and went back to his lunch....
Bouvier had never felt so small. Even when she had been forced to sell her body at a very young age, she still tried to keep her head held high, and have her dignity intact. Today was different. Today, it was as if the Universe was showing her that her loyalty to this man and his cause may have all been for naught. Her arm was still throbbing from where Whitley had grabbed her.
She felt herself on the verge of cracking the facade she wore so well and let her tears escape. To her shame, one did, and she quickly wiped it away as she rushed through the manor and went to her room. Once there, she sobbed like a child. She felt so helpless. Her life had always been her own, and now she was a prisoner of war to a king she used to call a lover and an ally.
He didn't even seem to care about his new daughter-in-law and the shock to her system this entire arrangement had possibly caused Sylvie. He seemed to only care about winning this war and protecting his son at all costs. She had to respect it, but it always made her feel as if she would always be on the outside looking in. The treatment from Whitley was almost unbearable. The way he had screamed at her in front of the other servants was unnerving.
She had only wanted to help. Since the very beginning, all she had wanted to do was to help. These elite wolfs, with their rules and judgments, would never see her or Sylvie as an equal, but she was under the impression that they would at least show a modicum of respect. That was not the case. She was afraid now.
What if the staff thought that was how she wanted to be spoken to?
Could she handle the constant mistreatment? Maybe this was her penance. The thought crossed her mind. She had been a greedy Madame, and she had done things she wasn't proud of. The fire had shown her just how hated she was.
No one was worried about her, and no one cared about her wellbeing. No girls came looking for her. She had stayed in hiding. She had known from that moment she had to make this right. She had miscalculated how dangerous Amaruq and his Lycan squad were.
Ever since then, she had been paying the price. She was still in love with Adolf. Time didn't change that. The sexual chemistry they still shared but never acknowledged made her feel like she would never be enough. He had a cold heart now.
She couldn't help but feel heartbroken about that. Bouvier took her overcoat off to examine her arm. She walked over to her vanity mirror and examined her arm. It was a visible handprint. She saw red welts in the shape of Whitley's fingers.
She didn't know how she would be able to hide that from Adolf. She knew it would be unwise to tell on Whitley, and besides, she was a grown woman. She needed respect more than she wanted justice. She needed to handle the discourse between her and Whitley herself. She put her overcoat back on gently. Yes, she would handle Whitley herself...