Page 10 of First
I wonder if the dress now officially belongs to me. If it would be okay for me to resell it. When I enter the antechamber of the Larsens’ great hall, I’m still calculating how many new healer kits I could buy for my cohort with the credits. Then I spot Lord Larsen waiting for us, and my heart drops.
He’s an older Alpha with calculating eyes and a stern, judgmental air. The crimson coat he wears is finely woven but practical. He should be too thin to seem imposing, yet his presence never fails to cause me discomfort. Part of it is the way he looks at me, as though he sees me as inferior, but there’s more than that. A persistent feeling that I am unsafe with him.
Thateveryoneis.
“Dear,” Lady Larsen chastises him, “you are not supposed to be here. You should be standing next to Lennart.”
He spares a cold glance for his mate, then focuses on me. “I am aware. But I wanted to inform Miss Kuznetsov that her fellow healers have sent word that they won’t be able to make it to the ceremony.”
“Excuse me?” I say.
“There was a problem with the sealing system on the northern wing. Nothing serious, but they’ll have to be on reserve while the engineers work on repairs.”
The healers on my team are like siblings to me. We’ve been on the front lines together and have saved each other’s lives countless times. “Maybe it would be better to postpone, then?”
“Nonsense, Miss Kuznetsov.” The twist of his lips is almost cruel. “My son is quite eager to turn you into a Larsen. You wouldn’t want to make him wait even longer than he already has, hmm?”
I straighten my back. It seems as good a time as any to make it clear to him that I may be an Omega, but I won’t be steamrolled. “How long will they be detained? I want them to be present. If it’s just a matter of pushing the ceremony a few minutes?—”
Lord Larsen leans forward and cuts me off with a low hiss: “That will not be possible.”
“One of my friends was supposed to give me away,” I say between clenched teeth.
“I will step in. I am, after all, to be your father.”
It’s so preposterous, I exhale a laugh. I glance at Lady Larsen, waiting for her to join me. But she and Lara both glance away in silence. Maybe I should have known better than to expect them to stand up to the head of their House, but I’m disappointed. Part of me even wonders if they’re secretly relieved that commoners won’t be at the ceremony. That way, they’ll be able to pretend that Lennart is marrying a noble. A strike—a cold Omega—is acceptable, but the class difference might be pushing it.
I bite my cheek until it bleeds and try to sound firm but polite. “I will go find out how quickly they might be able to arrive. It’s my mating ceremony, and I don’t mind delaying it.”
“Miss Kuznetsov.” Lord Larsen’s expression is somewhere between pitying and amused. “Do you really think you have a say in?—”
“Excuse me, my lord.” A member of the guard rushes inside. Lord Larsen turns slowly, ready to snarl at the interruption, but he stops himself when the man adds, “The general is here.”
It might be the first time I’ve seen Lord Larsen truly taken aback. “What?” he asks, eyes flicking away from me.
“General Agard is in the great hall. He informed us that he will be attending the mating ceremony.”
A chilly quiet blankets the room. For several heartbeats, it remains so completely frozen, I can’t hear a single breath being taken. Then, in an explosion of movement, Lord Larsen storms out of the chamber, followed by his guards.
Beside me, Lady Larsen’s skin is ashen. “Why would he be here? We didn’tannouncethe mating. It’s a small, intimate ceremony. And to come into our wing after what he did to Gustav—” Her palm covers her mouth.
I feel nauseous at the idea of this woman, who has taken care of me like a mother would, having to face her son’s murderer. “I’m going to ask him to leave,” I offer.
“No.No, that would be— We cannot do that. It would be an incredible slight that would only hurt our House. He isnotto be turned away. Whether we like it or not, he is the most powerful man in this stronghold.” Lady Larsen collects herself, the true rock of the Larsen clan. Keeping the family together. Strategizing. An intelligent, insightful analyst. The kind of Omega I’d like to be. If I were a real one, that is. “He is to be welcomed with open arms.”
“Mom.” Lara’s voice trembles. “Do you think Dad will start a fight with General Agard?”
“No.” Lady Larson smiles at her daughter. If it weren’t for her wringing hands, she’d look the picture of relaxation. “He knows better. And this is not outside the realm of etiquette. When a child of the Great Houses mates, officials can choose to be in attendance. This is likely simple protocol. Nothing to be concerned about.”
I wonder why I get the impression that it’s the opposite.
“Sofia. Child.”
I nod as she moves closer to me. “Yes?”
Her tone shifts lower. “The veil—keep it over your face throughout the ceremony. Even if the general calls on you or speaks to you directly. Keep it on unless it’s absolutely necessary. Agreed?”
“Why?” I ask with a frown.
