Chapter 38
[ 1,140 words ]
{Third Person}
Each time the cloth pressed against his wounds, Alexander’s muscles tensed. His jaw locked, and not a single sound escaped him.
Jasper stood off to the side, his expression tight as he watched. He had seen Alexander injured before, but this… this was on another new level. His Majesty had not held back.
The physician worked carefully, cleaning each wound before applying a thick layer of medicinal paste.
The moment the balm touched the torn skin, Alexander’s fingers curled slightly against the edge of the bed, and a sharp inhale escaped him.
The physician said nothing, continuing his work in silence before finally reaching for the clean bandages. He wrapped them securely around Alexander’s torso, ensuring the wounds were covered properly.
When he finished, he stepped back. “Your Highness, the wounds have been treated. You must avoid unnecessary movement for the next few days,” he said with a respectful bow.
Alexander did not respond. The physician didn’t wait for one. He quietly packed his tools, bowed once more, and left the room.
Alexander remained still for a while, then made the mistake of moving. The moment he tried to sit up straighter, pain shot through his back, sharp and immediate. His breath hitched, and his body stiffened.
Jasper was at his side instantly. “Your Highness—”
“I’m fine,” Alexander muttered in a low voice.
Still, Jasper supported him, helping him adjust his position carefully until he was seated more upright against the headboard.
Alexander inhaled slowly deeply, then exhaled. When he opened his eyes again, there was nothing warm left in them. Only a cold calculation.
His gaze shifted slightly, unfocused for a moment as his thoughts aligned. Then he spoke.
“I want to know who invited the last set of entertainers tonight.”
Jasper straightened slightly. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Alexander’s eyes darkened further. “And that cheap harlot…” His voice lowered, edged with something dangerous. “I want to know why she was so confident enough to think she could invite me into her bed.”
The room seemed to drop in temperature.
“I want to know,” he continued, each word deliberate, “who put her up to it.”
Jasper didn’t hesitate. “I understand.”
Alexander’s gaze didn’t shift. “Find out.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Jasper bowed, then turned and left the room without another word.
The door closed behind him, and once again, silence returned to the room.
Alexander sat there, unmoving. Then slowly, his fingers clenched.
The bandages around his torso strained slightly as anger settled deep beneath his skin, far stronger than the pain.
—
Morning came without gentleness.
At the Alpha Prince’s residence, the dining hall was quiet, orderly, as if the chaos of the previous night had never existed.
Alexander sat at the head of the table, already halfway through his breakfast. He looked normal. No one who saw him like this would think he had taken twenty lashes the night before.
His posture was straight, his movements controlled, his expression indifferent as he cut into his food and ate without pause until a slight shift of his torso pulled at the wounds beneath his clothes.
The pain struck sharply, and a low, almost inaudible groan slipped past his lips. His brows tightened for the briefest second. He stilled. Then he took a slow breath and continued eating as if nothing had happened.
—
On the other side of the residence, the atmosphere was far less composed.
Amara stirred awake slowly. The first thing she felt was the weight in her head—a dull, pounding ache that made her wince before she even fully opened her eyes.
When she finally did, her vision was blurred, heavy, and her eyelids swollen to the point where it felt difficult to keep them open.
She blinked a few times, but her vision remained unclear.
Right then, a soft meow pulled her attention downward. Ginger circled near her, brushing lightly against her arm, trying to get her attention. But Amara barely reacted. Her mind was still foggy, her body drained, her emotions raw.
She didn’t have the energy.
After a moment, a gentle knock sounded, then the door opened, and Mrs. Woods stepped inside. But she immediately froze in her tracks.
“Lady Amara…” She hurried forward immediately, her expression shifting into alarm the moment she saw her face. “What happened to your eyes?”
Before Amara could answer, Mrs. Woods turned sharply towards the open door. “Bring ice,” she instructed at once.
Within moments, it was brought.
Mrs. Woods sat beside Amara and began gently tending to her, pressing the cold cloth against her swollen eyes and massaging carefully.
“You cannot appear like this tonight,” she said softly but firmly. “Your eyes need to go down before the banquet.”
Amara’s expression darkened slightly the moment the word ’banquet’ hit. Her lips pressed together, and she turned her face away a little.
“I don’t want to go,” she murmured. “Can I sit this one out?”
Mrs. Woods’ hands stilled. Slowly, she leaned back and really looked at her. “Lady Amara,” she said, her tone now serious, “that is not possible.”
Amara frowned faintly.
“You are the reason for this banquet,” Mrs. Woods continued. “If you do not attend, it will send the wrong message. It could create tension between both kingdoms.”
Then, more gently, she added, “I know you are upset. But you must attend.”
Amara was furious, so she just shut her eyes.
Mrs. Woods resumed tending to her eyes. “Perhaps… seeing your friends again will help ease your mind.”
That made Amara’s gaze shift. Her thoughts snapped to her friends and the letter. Then, she turned her head slightly.
“The letter… the one I wrote… it was delivered, right? To my family’s address?”
Mrs. Woods frowned slightly but nodded. “Yes. I confirmed it myself. Why?”
Amara’s voice was quieter now. “My friends weren’t at the banquet last night.”
Mrs. Woods blinked. “Are you certain?”
Amara nodded. “I searched for them, but didn’t see them.” Then, after a moment, she added, “I will ask my father. Maybe… he didn’t invite them.”
Mrs. Woods didn’t respond immediately. But there was pity in her expression as she continued gently massaging her eyes.
—
At the same time, the atmosphere at the council hall was anything but calm. Voices overlapped as anger filled the space.
Werewolf officials stood gathered, their expressions heated, their words sharp as they spoke over one another.
“This cannot continue—”
“The Alpha Prince has gone too far—”
“In front of the Humans he disgraced—!”
Petitions had already been submitted. Documents were stacked. Demands were clear.
“He must be dealt with—”
“He should be stripped of authority—”
“The Alpha Prince should be disposed of—!”
The tension in the hall climbed higher with every passing second. And yet, at the centre of it all, the throne remained empty.
The King had not arrived.
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