Page 68 of Settle Down, Princess

“Leave that all until after we eat. Come, let’s not let this wonderful meal go to waste,” Wren said, gesturing to the food on the table. “Eat up, and then we will consider your problem.”

My teeth sank into bread as soft and white as a cloud, and, with the sharp salty crunch of the bacon coupled with thick yellow butter, it was a wonder even the grandest chefs from the capital could not match. My body’s needs had been ignored for two days as we’d sat vigil over Jessalyn, but they would not be denied anymore. I inhaled a bread roll stuffed with bacon, then several wobbling fried eggs, and a chunk of cheese before I could even stop to catch a breath. Wren nodded at me with a smile, then bent her head to attend to her own plate. But at some point, I was satisfied, and the raging hunger in my stomach settled.

Which didn’t explain the ache in my chest.

I hadn’t wanted to leave Jessalyn in that room. I hadn’t wanted to cede ground to Creed’s womenfolk, even when I knew I needed to. What I wanted was to set up, sword in hand, on her doorstep as her guard dog, ready to protect her now. To make up for all the ways that…

I’d failed.

Suddenly my mouth went bone dry, and the thought dropped like a stone in my mind, creating ripples I couldn’t stop from washing over me and dragging me under.

I’d failed when I hadn’t stood up to Arik the instant we’d ridden into that courtyard. I’d seen the red spots of fear—of anger—in Jessalyn’s face when we’d reined in our horses. I’d watched her bristle with fury when we’d escorted her in or out of the carriage. It was only at the moment when I cut that blasted catamount’s head off that I felt any sort of relief. We had been arrogant, overweening idiots the entire time, and now—

“So, a princess as your fated mate.” Elder Wren wiped her hands on her napkin and put it aside. This appeared to be some kind of unspoken sign that the meal was done, and around the table, cutlery was set down and plates were pushed away. “The gods have presented us with a wicked problem to solve.”

“But we must.” The words burst out of Creed before he realised what he was doing, his head only belatedly dropping down to show respect. “Elders, I throw myself upon your mercy, but I… we must find a way.”

With his head still bowed, he didn’t see Wren look at the others or catch those long looks, those pursed lips. Finally, she nodded.

“We must. This is a divine challenge: an opportunity for us to demonstrate that we are worthy of the gods’ graces.” Her gaze swept around the table, communicating her expectations of all those gathered before it settled on Arik. “And Prince Arik, you have made clear your reluctance to confront the threat your brother poses to wolf kind; indeed, to all of Khean. Each member of your pack will have a role to play in convincing the princess to accept your suit, but what happens after that?”

Elder Wren’s eyes held sadness and a little fear, coupled with determination. All of them were emotions that made sense. But I hadn’t expected to see empathy and the softening of her gaze as she looked at Arik.

“I fear… that burden will fall to you, solely.”

At her words, the pain in my chest flared up hotter. The world had tried to get Arik to take the place his father had vacated on the Emerald Throne, including the king himself, who’d recognised Arik, not Magnus, as his true-born son, but even the word of a king meant nothing in the face of the machinations of the Kheanian court. Arik knew it. We all knew it. And so I knew how my brother would respond to this call to action. I watched his back straighten, his chin rise as he met Elder Wren’s eyes, and felt that burning ache inside me grow so much I had to fight to take a full breath.

He was going to crush it—crush us—crush every hope and fear. We’d go right back to the grey haze of hopelessness that each one of us had been floundering through, not even aware of it until we met her: the seventh princess in the long line of girls we’d delivered to their deaths. I knew I wouldn’t survive it if Arik made us hand Jessalyn over to his brother to break, just like all the other girls before her. Their deaths were stains on my soul that I’d wear until my dying day, but hers would be the end of my spirit entirely.

“I know.” Arik’s voice was a ragged facsimile of his usual smooth tones. “I’ve always known this time would come, and I…” He glanced down the table, meeting Silas’ eyes, then Creed’s, and finally mine. “I swore I would spend my life with this pack from the moment we were recognised as such by the elders. I hoped I’d never be called upon to…”

The smile that had always come right when my spirits were at their lowest and lifted them. Usually it was on a battlefield, with the screams and cries of our enemies around us. But while my heart leapt to see it, here and now, I could not echo it. Not when I realised that the challenge in the battle ahead was far worse than any we’d faced before. For though I would always add my sword and strength to his, to keep our pack safe from any fucker who dared raised a weapon against us, it was only Arik—only the true King of Khean—who could fight in such a treacherous theatre of war as the royal court.

“But I said then that I’d do whatever it took for our pack to be safe, and I will.” He nodded sharply at the three of us. “I always will.” His focus shifted back to Wren and the rest of the elders. “So, revered elders, what do you propose?”

Chapter 39

"Ohhhh…” My hand slapped over my mouth as a groan of delight escaped me. Whether it was the sound or my horrified reaction, all three of the women who’d invited me to eat with them broke out into laughter. I hastily chewed the mouthful I’d taken to be able to explain. “I’m so sorry, but this is incredible.”

“Mum always makes the best stew,” Fern said.

“It’s simple but honest food,” Saffron said, though I saw the flush of pleasure as she rounded the table, depositing fresh-baked bread rolls onto the small plates beside our bowls.

“And you need to have more of it.” Hazel looked me up and down. “I’ll wager that you were too thin even before those idiots allowed you to get hurt.” She nudged my ribs gently. “Now you’re as fine-boned as a bird. Got to eat up, give those boys something to grab onto.”

Her wild chuckle played over my skin like the notes of a scherzo played by a string quartet. Music didn’t usually have the effect of making me slow, then stop my actions, but that was what I found myself doing. My spoon stilled in my bowl, but it wasn’t her chuckle which gave me pause for thought, it was what she’d said before it.

“Enough of that, Mother.” Saffron shot her a reproving look. “Jessalyn”—I’d managed to get them all to drop my titles—“hasn’t decided if she’ll accept the boys yet.”

“And why would she?” Fern wrinkled her nose as she looked at me. “Stuck with my brother for life.” She made a show of gagging. “I couldn’t think of anything worse.”

“I’m sure the Garnet pack’s sisters think the same about those boys,” Hazel said, staring innocently down at her bowl. “But you like them just fine.”

The blush that stained Fern’s cheeks was something I knew well. Openly showing her feelings, or simply her preference, for a man—or men—could render a woman strangely vulnerable, as though she became a target, giving anyone licence to tease her. As I watched Fern squirm while her mother and grandmother laughed, I considered my own situation.

Did I want to allow myself to ever be that exposed?

“So, Fern, have you found your fated mates?” I asked.

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