Elizabeth looked at Theodor with calm eyes. She did not react immediately; she merely watched him as though observing Dandara's audacity from a distance.
—I will go see the little ones.
The young woman announced it softly, her voice level enough for all to hear without the need to raise it.
—You may continue without me. I shall return in a few minutes.
She offered a gentle smile, leaving her fiancé and Dandara seated. Her flowing gown trailed flawlessly behind her, jewels gleaming softly against her skin.
As she crossed the main archway, she noticed a group of children gathered around a small boy with tearful eyes.
—A weeping wolf.
Sapphire declared, watching the child shrink inward.
—Sapphire, he is a child. Where is your empathy?
She scolded her inwardly before turning her attention back to the children.
—Go on. Play.
She knelt to the boy's height, taking in his dusky skin and hazel eyes.
—Well then, little one? This looks rather unpleasant. What do you say we tend to that wound?
She extended her hand. The contrast was striking: her long, slender fingers against his small, fragile ones.
—Come. I will take care of it.
She guided him carefully through the garden toward the fountain, where daylight shimmered more brightly as it reflected upon the water like softened crystals.
—Tell me, which pack claims such an adorable boy?
She cupped a bit of water, gently washing the wound. Minutes later, she dried it with a white handkerchief drawn from the garter at her thigh. She did not notice someone approaching, but Sapphire sensed the wolf before he stood behind her.
—Alpha.
She muttered.
Sapphire growled low, a sound that did not reach human ears yet caused the fountain's water to tremble faintly.
The young wolf recoiled instinctively, sensing the shift in the air before understanding why. Elizabeth did not turn at once. She continued cleaning the wound with an almost irritating calm, as though the presence behind her were irrelevant. As though the world did not habitually revolve around Alphas.
—You need not be afraid, she told the boy, her voice soft yet firm. —She only barks when she believes someone stands where they should not.
Sapphire huffed within her mind.
—He stands where he should not.
The man behind her cleared his throat. A contained, measured sound—typical of one who knew precisely how to occupy space without seeming intrusive. His scent arrived before his words. Iron, pine, and something ancient. An Alpha who did not need to announce his rank to be recognized.
—I did not mean to interrupt, he said. —But the Council has noticed your absence.
The boy looked from Elizabeth to the stranger, clearly torn between curiosity and apprehension.
—Go play with the others, Elizabeth said at last. —And avoid running near the tables. Large Alphas rarely look down.
The child nodded quickly and hurried away, too relieved to offer proper thanks.
Only then did Elizabeth rise.
She turned slowly.
The Alpha stood only a few paces away. Tall, posture impeccable, gaze too attentive to be casual. He was not Theodor. And that alone made everything far more interesting.
—You are correct, he said after a brief silence. —Children and politics do not belong together. Neither understands the weight they carry.
Sapphire circled Elizabeth's mind like a predator assessing prey.
—He is not of the Morning Sun, she murmured. —He smells of night. Of ice. Be cautious.
The Alpha inclined his head slightly in a gesture of respect that felt instinctive rather than rehearsed.
—Kael, he introduced himself. —Regent of the Black Cliffs pack. I attended the celebration out of obligation… I remained out of curiosity.
His eyes moved over her gown, her jewels, her bearing. Not with open desire. With appraisal.
—You withdrew at precisely the right moment, he continued. —Most mistake silence for defeat. You do not.
Sapphire smiled within Elizabeth's mind.
—I like this one. He observes before he bites.
Kael shifted his gaze from the fountain toward the distant hall, where music still echoed, muffled by stone walls.
—Your fiancé is being tested, he said bluntly. —He is not faring well.
There was no provocation in his tone. Only fact.
—The rose-colored she-wolf, he added, a faint curve at the corner of his mouth. —She mistakes fragility for invisibility. She fails to understand that on nights such as this, what does not shine by right eventually burns.
Sapphire laughed, satisfied.
—He sees. That is already more than the other.
The wind swept through the garden, cold, carrying with it the distant scent of snow and iron. Of caravans in motion. Of something vast approaching.
Kael met her gaze once more.
—When the Midnight Sun arrives… he began, choosing his words carefully. —This place will change its temperature.
He offered a brief bow.
—I hope you are prepared. Not all survive the cold.
Then he stepped away, leaving behind only the sound of water and the unsettling sense that the banquet was merely the first layer of a far deeper night.
Sapphire stretched within her.
—He did not come to flirt. He came to warn.
—I do not know whether that concerns me… or brings me relief.
Elizabeth sat at the fountain's edge.
The hall still played its music.
But the night had only just begun.