Elora woke up with a spring in her step this morning.
Last night, the royal knights had arrived from their travels.
Azazeal still wasn't back from his trip and she couldn't be happier.
She had made a vow in silence, everything
that had thrilled her in her past life and she had left to become a proper princess for that dumb prince Regan and his family, she would do everything in this life.
This was her chance to live in her world and take advantage of her newly found freedom.
There was a soft knock at the door.
"Your bath awaits you, my queen."
Elora nodded, permitting the maids to lead her to the steaming bath. She slid into the warm water, allowing the tension in her limbs to release as they washed her body and removed the remnants of the day with gentle scrubs.
The smell of jasmine and lavender surrounded her, and she allowed herself to relax for a moment.
When she was clean and fresh, the maids came to dress her in rich silks, but Elora held up a hand to stop them.
"Bring me riding clothes," she said quietly.
One of the maids hesitated, mouth opening as if to protest, but Elora had already turned her gaze back to the tub.
It was a silent dismissal.
They wouldn't question her.
Moments later, she was wearing a pale blue riding suit and black boots, and her long dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail.
The well-tailored riding clothes hugged her slender and beautiful curvature, but it was her ocean-colored eyes that commanded attention. They sparkled like carved jewels as she walked nervously toward the training grounds.
Two of her royal maids trailed after her, leaning to whisper into each other's ears no doubt shocked at the human queen's sudden whim to visit the stables.
The sound of swords clanging together and arrows thudding into wood became louder as she approached the open field where the knights trained.
The scent of fresh earth and sweat hung in the air, mingled with the coolness of the evening breeze.
Her eyes searched for the only familiar face within the crowd—Casteel, the head knight.
Kawl already described him to her and she would easily recognize that tall man.
As though he could feel her gaze, Casteel turned, his eyes piercing and cold.
What's with these werewolves and their cold and blood thirsty gaze? Elora wondered.
A look of surprise flashed across his face but he quickly masked it with practiced composure. Then he bowed, pressing a firm palm to his chest.
"Your Majesty."
One by one, the rest of the knights bowed in unison.
Elora's breath hitched.
She wasn't used to this kind of treatment yet.
Where she grew up, respect belonged to the strong, the most powerful, and the favored.
But here, these men, these warriors, they obeyed her without question.
A tentative little smile appeared on her lips.
"G—Good evening, Sir Casteel," she whispered.
Casteel stood up straight, his brow lifting just a bit at how shy she was.
"Do you need anything here, Your Majesty?"
Elora paused and stepped closer, lowering her voice to the point he alone could hear.
But it was futile, since werewolves had super hearing abilities.
But they all went back to their work pretending like they were not. Curious about why the human mate of their king was here.
"I need a favor from you ."
Casteel stayed put, his face unreadable, but he nodded slightly, encouraging her to proceed.
She braced herself, fingers curling at her sides.
"As you know …" she said softly, "I am not from this land." "There are so many things I things that have always interested me.
And now that I really am here, I want to see and do them for myself."
Casteel tilted his head in interest, but with caution.
She inhaled deeply and met his eyes.
"If you could tutor me personally... I would be so grateful."
His brows knitted slightly. "Tutoring you in what, Your Majesty?"
"Horse riding," she replied immediately. Then, after a brief pause, she added, "And archery."
Casteel blinked.
Horseback riding was reasonable enough — it was something a lot of noblewomen were taught to do. But archery?
He appeared to hold back a smile, lips twitching.
"Archery, Your Majesty?" he repeated, a glimmer of mirth in his eyes.
"Yes," Elora replied, nodding. "I want to learn." She hadn't been allowed to do these things in her own kingdom, she was either locked up in her chambers or being judged when she stepped out. She had always yearned to have her own bows and arrows but she wasn't at all allowed to.
Casteel let out a breath, rubbing his chin contemplatively. A queen rarely requests such a thing, yet he found no hesitation in her. Yes, she was shy, but her determination was evident.
He chuckled impressed by the human.
"Very well," he agreed. "When do you want to start?"
Elora's eyes lightened at his words.
"Today!" she declared.
Casteel looked at her for a moment before shaking his head, smirking. "You really do not waste time, do you, Your Majesty?"
Elora's cheeks flushed. "I-I just don't want to wait."
He laughed a second time, signaling to a stable boy to get a horse ready.
"As you wish, Your Majesty. Let's begin."
"Can I pick the horses myself?" Elora asked as they walked over to the stables, her eyes widening with racing excitement she couldn't even hide. "I want to see them and meet them."
Casteel watched her, transfixed. He had heard tales of how soft and fragile humans could be, but now as he looked down at the new Luna of the pack, she was a vision of softness and beauty. He could not help but be concerned that she might not know how to cope with the Enigma that was their King, Azazeal.
"Of course, my queen," he replied, ushering her through the stables.
Rows of Magnificent, robust horses as well as stallions filled the space in front of them. Elora's breath caught in her chest as her eyes drank in the creatures she'd admired from afar for so long.
The only horse she'd had the pleasure of riding was an old man's horse. On one occasion in her past life, she'd dared to climb the castle walls and pretend to be a regular villager.
No one in the castle noticed, they were too busy ignoring her existence anyway.
She'd met a toiling farmer who worked with his dirty horse, but she didn't mind, she begged for a ride on the stallion.
His horse, however, was as old as the farmer was, too slow and feeble for a crazy ride.
This was a good thing because she kept slipping off due to her lack of training.
That was the only time she'd felt real happiness and joy in her rather short life.
The memory caused a small smile to linger on her lips.
Elora was stroking the soft fur of a magnificent chestnut mare, whose nobility and beauty made her eyes glint with excitement.
But then, from the corner of her eyes, she saw something that made her heart cease.