now i think that i could love you back {l.s.}

so then we grew a little

"Louis, do you think your new Alpha will like us?" his youngest sister inquires. She gets up off the floor from where she is engaged in a fierce battle of chess with Charlotte and scooches over to where he is sitting, putting both of her smaller hands on his knees.

"Of course they will Phoebe," he reassures her, putting one of his own hands over her tinier one. She has a paper ring fastened to her finger from where she and her twin had thrown a make-believe wedding in their gardens earlier that day. He smiles fondly at the woebegone jewelry. "Why would you ask that?"

"At dinner the other night, I overheard the Marquis of Rutherford telling mother that her daughter has been whisked away from them all to some country across the Atlantic Ocean and she never gets to see her anymore. Because the daughter's new Alpha husband wants nothing to do with the Rutherford Family now that he has secured their bride and paid off her dowry. I do not want you to go far away if your new mate doesn't like us," Phoebe pouts up at him. "Who will read us stories at bedtime if you forsake us for your new Mate?"

"You really should not be eavesdropping on official court matters," Louis admonishes her in an effort to cover up his own shock. It had not occurred to him that his younger sisters would also be privy to how the majority of royal marriages operated. "But you need not fret. I promise to only choose someone who adores the rest of the family, just as much as I do." 

"Besides," Charlotte pipes up. "The Marquis of Rutherford is a terrible gossip who takes pleasure in the misfortune of others. I would not mind putting a few thousand miles between us as well."

"Miss Charlotte!" their governess gasps from across the room. "It is quite unbecoming to speak of other noble families in such a negative way."

Charlotte throws a faux remorseful look her way before quickly turning to Louis and Phoebe and making a silly face. Phoebe laughs and scoots her way back to their chess match, all traces of concern about her new family member vanishing from her little being.

The same cannot be said for Louis.

He finds himself pondering Phoebe's words over the next week, over afternoon tea, during his promenades, and as he tosses and turns in his bed.

Earlier that day, he had crept down one of the back staircases, out of sight and overheard his parents speaking to their advisor and a few head servants.

"We will need to employ more food testers to check to see if anything has been poisoned, as well as an additional fleet of guards," his father had ordered. "There have been a few more threatening letters from anonymous entities and two members of the council were banished today after they spoke out against Louis ascending to the throne."

Louis had almost let out a whimper that would have surely got him caught when he heard the information. For most of his life, his parents had shielded him from any threats, especially the outspoken words of any conservative being that believed only an alpha should sit on the throne. Now his nights have been plagued with thoughts about his potential suitor and whether or not someone will try to make an attempt on his life in the coming weeks. Even the night sky could not seem to quell his ever growing anxieties.

Finally, one late evening when the moon is particularly potent and shining through his window, he slips out of bed. He lights a candle, before setting it on his nightstand. After quietly donning a robe and stepping into his embroidered slippers on, he creeps outside of his door. He beckons to his guards and they slowly follow him down the hallway. He'd prefer to not have any accompaniment but his mother would surely find out about his late night activities if he forewent security.

The walk to his destination takes several minutes, and that's before he and his guards begin to ascend almost seven flights of steep, windy staircases. Louis begins to feel slightly nauseous as the red velvet steps all seem to blur together. Finally, after much exertion, the three arrive at the top of the castle's tower. Louis gazes up at the ceiling that is covered in pure glass and gold-trimmed edges. Scattered across the tiled floor are several maps and messy ink pots. There are brightly colored green and yellow potions bubbling on counters and an onyx raven sits in its gilded cage, its beady eyes trained on Louis.