Ezra
Richard led me to one of the planning rooms near the west wing. The second we got inside, attendants started bringing in parchment, ink, ledgers, and enough papers to drown in.
Richard sat down at the long table and started drawing out the outline for the different aspects of the ceremony.
He started drawing up numbers, writing expenses, listing decorations, food arrangements, music, guest seating, and things I honestly didn't even know people thought about when planning events.
I sat across from him, trying to keep up with my own share of work.
We were at it for hours without speaking once.
After the bulk of the task was completed, he suddenly looked up at me.
"Have you ever hosted an event before?" he asked.
"No."
He raised a brow. "Not even a small one?"
"No, Alpha Richard. Not all of us were born into that sort of thing."
He smirked and went back to writing. I thought we were back to our original settings.
Then, out of nowhere, he spoke again.
