Chapter 224 Hope and Pray

Simon nodded. “Yes. Her name is Melva.”

A faint smile tugged at Riela’s lips. “You marked her?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I did.”

She laughed softly, a sound filled with genuine happiness. “Simon, that’s wonderful.”

He looked relieved at her reaction. “She’s with Lady Althea and the Alpha King right now. Once everything settles, I plan to introduce her to you. I know you’ll like her.”

“Oh?” Riela teased. “You sound very confident.”

Simon smiled despite himself. “She’s kind. Strong in her own way. And she’s… honest. She

grounds me.”

Riela’s expression turned playful. “That already sounds like someone important.”

“She is,” Simon said without hesitation. He didn’t realize how easily the words came out until they were already spoken.

Riela noticed and her smile widened. “You’re in love.”

Simon stopped again, caught completely off guard. “I—” He faltered, then sighed. “I don’t know if I should say that.”

“You already did,” Riela said lightly.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I care about her deeply. But everything happened so fast. And with everything else going on—”

Riela crossed her arms, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Have you told her how you feel?”

Simon stiffened. “No,” he admitted.

“Why not?”

He hesitated. “Because she deserves peace. Not confusion, not pressure and because I don’t want her to think that I only accepted her out of duty.”

Riela studied him carefully. “Simon, you don’t strike me as someone who does anything halfway. Especially not something as serious as bonding.”

He smiled faintly. “I try not to be.”

She nudged him gently. “Then don’t hold back your heart. Your mate deserves to know how deeply she’s affected you.”

He looked down, thoughtful. “She doubts herself sometimes.”

“Then prove her wrong.”

Simon looked back up, surprised.

Riela smiled softly. “I know that look. You carry responsibility like armor. But love isn’t something you command or suppress. It’s something you choose to show.”

He exhaled slowly. “You sound wiser than ever.”

She laughed. “Almost dying has a way of sharpening perspective.”

They reached the balcony overlooking the inner gardens. Sunlight poured in, illuminating the flowers in full bloom.

Riela leaned against the railing. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I like her already.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t even met her.”

“I don’t need to,” she replied. “Anyone who makes you look like this can’t be a bad person.”

He chuckled softly. “Like what?”

“Like someone who finally let himself be happy.”

Simon looked away, his heart tightening. “I just hope I can protect her,” he admitted. “Better than I protected you.”

Riela turned serious. “You don’t protect someone by standing in front of every blade,” she said gently. “Sometimes, you protect them by standing beside them. Trusting them and loving them.”

He nodded slowly, absorbing her words. “I’ll introduce her to you soon,” he said. “Once she’s back.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Riela replied warmly.

Simon and Riela had barely settled into the quiet of the balcony when raised voices drifted from the corridor below. Not loud enough to be alarming, but sharp enough to carry.

Simon glanced over the railing first. The corner of his mouth twitched.

Riela followed his gaze and immediately sighed, though amusement softened her expression.

Uriel stood near the council antechamber, arms crossed, posture rigid with restrained patience. Across from him was Lady Beatrice, hands on her hips, her expression cool and unyielding as she pointed toward a stack of ledgers a servant had just set down.

“I already reviewed the west wing inventories,” Beatrice said firmly. “They do not need to be checked again.”

Uriel’s brow furrowed. “They absolutely do. The palace nearly fell into chaos. We cannot assume anything is intact.”

“You are assuming inefficiency where there is none,” she shot back. “If you actually read my reports, you would know that.”

“I did read them,” Uriel replied. “And they were incomplete.”

“They were concise,” Beatrice corrected. “There is a difference.”

Simon let out a quiet breath that was dangerously close to a laugh.

“They sound like they’re about to summon lightning or paperwork,” he muttered.

Riela chuckled softly. “Or both.”

Below them, Uriel ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his composure. “Lady Beatrice, the Queen Mother assigned you to assist with court matters, not argue every directive I give.”

Beatrice raised a brow. “And yet, Archmage Uriel, she also instructed me to ensure those directives were reasonable.”

Their eyes locked.

For a moment, the tension felt almost tangible, sharp enough to slice through the air.

Then a servant quietly slipped away.

Riela leaned her elbows on the railing, watching with a knowing look. “You see that?”

Simon nodded slowly. “Hard not to.”

“My mother is absolutely doing this on purpose,” Riela said, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

Simon glanced at her. “Doing what, exactly?”

“Playing matchmaker,” Riela replied without hesitation.

He blinked. “With them?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding toward the arguing pair. “My mother insisted Lady Beatrice continue assisting with court responsibilities, even though she has already fully returned to the palace.”

Simon frowned slightly. “Lady Beatrice could have stepped back.”

“She offered to,” Riela said. “Twice.”

“And the Queen Mother refused?”

“Of course she did.”

Riela smiled faintly. “She wants Lady Beatrice to stay close. To Uriel.”

Simon watched as Uriel exhaled sharply, then begrudgingly picked up one of the ledgers Beatrice handed him. Their fingers brushed briefly, just for a heartbeat too long. Neither commented on it, but both noticed.

Simon cleared his throat. “Interesting strategy.”

Riela laughed softly. “My mother believes tension is just another form of chemistry waiting to be refined.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“She married into a ruling Alpha bloodline,” Riela reminded him. “Danger is her idea of romance.”

Below, Beatrice tilted her head. “If you insist on rechecking the west wing, then I will personally accompany you. That way, you cannot accuse me of overlooking anything.”

Uriel hesitated.

Simon could almost hear the internal debate from where they stood.

“Fine,” Uriel said at last. “But we start with the archives.”

“Of course,” Beatrice replied smoothly. “That is where the most damage usually hides.”

As they turned to walk together, their steps fell into an oddly matched rhythm, neither quite yielding the lead.

Riela smiled knowingly. “See?”

Simon shook his head. “The Queen Mother is subtle.”

“She’s not subtle,” Riela corrected. “She’s patient.”

They stood quietly for a moment, watching as the two figures disappeared down the corridor, their voices still low but unmistakably engaged.

“I think Uriel doesn’t even realize what’s happening yet,” Simon said.

Riela smiled softly. “Neither did you, when you met Melva.”

He stiffened slightly. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes,” she replied warmly. “And it’s the same with them. Resistance always looks like irritation before it turns into something deeper.”

Simon leaned against the railing. “Do you approve?”

Riela considered the question seriously. “Lady Beatrice is capable, loyal, and unafraid to challenge him. And Uriel needs someone who won’t simply agree with him because of his power.”

“That’s true,” Simon admitted.

Riela glanced at him. “Just like you need someone who sees you beyond your duty.”

He smiled quietly, understanding her meaning. Then he let out a deep sigh and murmured, “I can only hope and pray that the Alpha King succeeds, so they can all return safely…”

“Yes, he will,” she said with quiet certainty. “I know my brother. He will do everything in his power—especially when it comes to someone he truly cares for.”