Chapter 12

• The next day arrived, and Althea reluctantly roused herself from her newfound soft bed.
• She watched with a mixture of exhaustion and curiosity as Ariana and Fiona were tended to by maids, being dressed and prepped for whatever event lay ahead.
• Dark circles adorned Althea's eyes; the unfamiliar surroundings, coupled with the plush comfort of her bed, had made sleep elusive.
• As she got up and ventured towards the bathroom, she could feel the eyes of her roommates on her.
• Their gazes followed her every move, but they remained silent. Althea couldn't help but wonder what all the preparation was for. Ariana had divulged little about the upcoming event, leaving Althea in the dark.
• Althea knew she wasn't inherently stuck-up; she simply struggled with social interactions, and this situation, in particular, made her long for solitude. She contemplated the reality that she had been selected as one of the brides, a realization that still felt surreal.
• One of the maids, the same one who had attended to her the day before, approached her with a polite question, "Miss, are you going to take a bath?"
• Althea nodded in response, her voice soft and distant. "Yes, please."
• The maid led her into the bathroom, where a warm bath had been prepared. Althea immersed herself in the soothing water, allowing it to wash away some of the tension that had settled into her bones.
• Her thoughts were a whirlwind of uncertainty and questions about the upcoming event.
• What would be expected of her? What were the other brides like? And most importantly, what did the Lycan king have in mind for them?
• After her bath, Althea returned to the room, where the atmosphere was charged with a sense of anticipation. Ariana and Fiona were now impeccably dressed, their beauty enhanced by the maids' skilled hands. Althea couldn't help but feel out of place in her simplicity.
• She wasn't one to approach people or talk to them. It made her come off as cold even if it wasn't her intention.
• She decided to make an attempt at conversation, addressing Ariana tentatively, "Do you have any idea what this event is about? Can you please tell me?"
• Ariana shot her a haughty glance, still harboring resentment from their earlier interactions. "Well, look who's finally interested," she retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I might tell you if you ask nicely." With that, she turned away, leaving Althea to navigate the intricate web of palace life and competition on her own.
• Althea couldn't shake off the frustration Ariana's terrible attitude had ignited.
• Feeling lost and isolated, she had no other recourse but to turn to the one person who had shown her kindness—the maid who had prepared her bath.
• "Excuse me," Althea began hesitantly, "what's your name?"
• The maid smiled warmly and replied, "I'm Lila. How may I be of service to you?"
• Althea returned her smile, grateful for the friendly response. She hesitated for a moment before finally mustering the courage to ask, "Do you happen to know what the event is about?"
• Lila nodded and leaned in slightly, her tone hushed. "There was a letter placed under your pillow this morning, Miss Althea. It should detail all the events planned for today. Perhaps you might want to give it a read."
• Althea mentally smacked herself on the forehead. The answer had been right under her nose, and she hadn't noticed. She groaned in frustration and, with a nod of thanks to Lila, retrieved the letter from under her pillow.
• Opening the letter with curiosity, she scanned its contents. It outlined a series of events for the day, each more elaborate than the last:
• Morning Tea Gathering, brides are invited to partake in a communal morning tea with the Lycan king to foster familiarity and camaraderie among the prospective queens.
• Botanical Garden Stroll, following tea, the brides will take a leisurely stroll through the palace's stunning botanical garden, a chance to showcase their elegance and grace.
• The Art of Conversation, an afternoon event where brides will engage in intellectual discourse with the king, demonstrating their wit and intelligence.
• Evening Gala, the grand finale—a lavish gala where the brides will be presented formally to the Lycan court. Each must make a lasting impression.
• The prospect of the day's events left Althea feeling a mix of uncertainty and anxiety.
• Her life had been a stark contrast to the extravagance and social intricacies of the royal court. She had spent her days either buried in books at the library or crafting medicinal remedies at her family's herbal shop. The thought of engaging in these luxurious, leisurely activities made her feel like she was being prepped for some kind of ritualistic sacrifice.
• She couldn't help but imagine the Lycan king's possible reactions—mocking her for her lack of experience in the world of courtship
• . The memory of their dinner together still lingered, an unsettling reminder of her vulnerability.
• The morning tea with the other brides was particularly daunting. She wondered if it would be as stifling and uncomfortable as the breakfasts back home with her family.
• Those moments had always felt like torture, with her sharp tongue rarely finding its place in the midst of their idle chatter.
• Althea wasn't oblivious to the fact that despite her occasional sharpness, she was easily startled and reluctant to draw attention to herself.
• The thought of being the center of attention among the other brides and the king filled her with trepidation.
• As she prepared for the day, Althea tried to muster the courage to face the challenges ahead. She chose an outfit that was both elegant and practical, opting for a balance between comfort and the need to make a good impression.
• With each passing moment, her anxiety grew, and her mind raced with self-doubt.
• She couldn't shake the feeling that she was an outsider in this opulent world, an interloper in the intricate dance of courtly affairs.
• When the time came to join the other brides for morning tea, Althea took a deep breath and forced herself to step into the grand hall.
• The sight that greeted her was a dazzling display of splendor—the Lycan king seated at a lavish table, the other brides surrounding him, their gowns resplendent and their manners refined.
• She felt like a small fish swimming among sharks, uncertain of how to navigate the treacherous waters of courtly conversation and etiquette.
• Her heart pounded in her chest as she approached the group, the anticipation of what lay ahead almost suffocating.
• As the morning tea commenced, Althea couldn't help but feel like an outsider, desperately trying to blend in while fearing that any moment, her true nature would be exposed.
• As Althea reluctantly took her seat at the morning tea gathering, Darian, the Lycan king, addressed her with a smirk. "Althea, it's nice of you to join us today. Took your time as well."
• The mention of her name sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a strange flutter in the depths of her stomach.
• Despite his earlier callousness, there was an undeniable warmth in Darian's voice that unsettled her.
• Althea nodded, feeling compelled to offer an apology for her tardiness. "I apologize for being late."
• She had intended to sit beside Olivia, seeking the comfort of familiarity, but Darian had other plans. He stopped her and gestured to the empty chair beside him. All eyes in the room turned towards her, some filled with annoyance, likely tinged with jealousy.
• The tension was palpable, and Althea hesitated for a moment, torn between her desire to blend in with the other brides and the unspoken command in Darian's eyes. Ultimately, she yielded to the unspoken request and replied softly, "It would be mu pleasurs," before taking the seat beside the Lycan king.
• It was an uncomfortable start to the morning, as Althea found herself seated in a position that drew more attention than she was comfortable with. She couldn't help but wonder what Darian's intentions were, and she hoped that she wouldn't find herself subjected to his earlier mockery.
• Sitting among the other brides at the morning tea gathering, Althea couldn't help but feel the weight of their scrutinizing gazes as they sipped their tea with practiced elegance. It seemed like everyone around her knew exactly how to behave in this environment, and Althea felt lost amid their poise and grace.
• Confusion gnawed at her as she wondered why all the other brides were giving her those strange looks. After all, it wasn't as if any of them were guaranteed to become Darian's queen. The likelihood of him choosing any of them and sending the rest back home with no memories seemed far more plausible. But Althea kept her thoughts to herself, feeling like an outsider in this elaborate charade.
• Her discomfort only deepened when Darian, seated beside her, noticed her untouched plate. His smirk was back, and he couldn't resist commenting, "Why are you not eating, Althea?"
• Caught off guard, Althea stammered, "I, um... prefer eating alone, normally." Her response prompted some of the brides to gasp in surprise, making her regret her words instantly.
• Darian, however, chuckled at her reply and leaned in closer, his voice low and laced with amusement. "Isn't it because you're sitting close to me?" he suggested knowingly.
• Althea's instinct was to deny it vehemently, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she hesitated for a moment before meekly replying, "No, not at all."
• Darian's amusement only grew, and he leaned even closer, his eyes locked onto hers. "Here you go, lying again," he remarked casually. "You do know there are consequences for lying to me, right?"
• Althea's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to find a response.