SWORN TO THE ALPHA KING

[54.2] THE KING (part-two)

[SILVER RAYNE WILLIAMS]

"Is that your chosen attire?" The prince asks, but his words are barely heard as I watch him place the notebook on the kitchen island.

I am worried about all this. Already stressed and I haven't even begun.

My gaze returns to him in a haze, distraught and thinking of all the ways I'm utterly fucked, when I meet his saltwater gaze again I'm thrown back into reality, shaking myself awake, "W-what?"

His gaze shifts down my body, "Is that your chosen attire for the morning?"

I look down at my jeans and my shirt. Oh.

I am a bit embarrassed. It probably looks like rags in his sight.

My gaze trails to what he's wearing. Yup. He's a prince.

And I'm a pauper. His royal attire has called me poor in six different ways.

I nod, slowly, "Yes."

His gaze narrows down at my clothing again, and then returns to my eyes, "It is different."

He pauses, "Typically, Fang women opt for opulent gowns when dining with the King. It seems Humans have their way of doing things."

I purse my lips at his words. Comparing me with Fang Women? No humans have lavish gowns to wear at their disposal. And then it hits me. The King??

"Let us go."

He walks past me before I can recuperate and toward the door, whilst I am left mortified at his statement.

My gaze shifts to the Prince, "W-we're having breakfast with the King?" I babble, my heart thudding within me.

He does not reply but the answer is evident.

My heart thuds harshly within me. "No-no-no-no," I shaky my head my voice shaking, "too soon, too early."

The tribrid's eyes never waver, "If you wish to live Silver, I suggest you get rid of the threat. Hiding from a threat as powerful as Drake Alistair is foolish and holds no advantages whatever."

I breathed harsher, staring at the Prince, "He could kill me."

"Do you doubt my competence?"

I purse my lips at the statement, shaking my head. Because it was the best thing to do, or else risk wandering or insulting the prince. Which is the last on my agenda

Instead, I tell myself to take deep breaths. Yes, Prince is right. This is necessary if I don't want to accidentally be stabbed by a Veridian, or have my throat slit.

I had to—dare I say it, Trust the Prince. I had no choice but to believe he would be true to his word and protect me.

That the decision to take me to breakfast in the one place where the King had directly threatened me was an act of good faith on his part and not simply leading me to a slaughterhouse.

Trust Fang.

Oh cause I'm so good at it. Shit.

Breathe.

I look down at my jeans.

Perhaps, showing up in jeans and a shirt would only make things worse. My gaze trailed to the prince, "I-I think I'll change."

------------------------------------

I am walking behind the Prince's tall frame. My hands feel for the singular vial I have safely tucked hidden inside my bodice. Not the most accessible area for a surprise moment, but that's what you get when your fancy dress has no pocket.

I have decided to carry it on my person always. I feel one day it will be a great weapon or will aid me in ways I have no adequate words to describe yet.

That despite the dire consequences it has in return, I may use it for a past act.

As I stared at the Prince's back, The fine royal attire was perfectly tailored to him, whilst I wore the dress I felt I was starting to wear too much already.

I'm tempted to ask if breakfast was his only choice to do this reveal, but I couldn't question him. Not when he holds my life in balance

I hated that Fang had so much power and we had none even over our lives.

I took out a short breath and decided to think happy thoughts, happy frickin thoughts, my eyes tightly closed, willing my heart not to beat faster the further we walked. The doors of Everest Hall drew closer until we were almost there.

"Your Highness."

The familiar voice caught me off guard. And though I could barely see the High Lord behind the figure of the prince, I knew it was Lord Graydon Collins.

For some reason, I felt better with this realization.

The prince turns slightly but doesn't look at me, nodding, "Lord Graydon."

I lean slightly and catch a glimpse of the stiff stature of the High Lord of our region, enough to capture his impeccable form, and dull eyes, that arch when they meet mine, his stiff facade suddenly wavering for a moment.

I think he is just as confused as the guards that lined the hallway had been, that the prince was dragging about a human girl behind him.

Perhaps, that look was one of pity.

Logically, trailing behind the prince as a human can only be a sign that I had put my stubborn self in a stupid situation.

But the wavering moments pass as soon as his eyes return to that of the prince, and if anything, he seems calmer.

"Your indictment has been set."

Lord Graydon nods, "Yes, your majesty. I received the call."

"Good."

My gaze passed between the two of them. Indictment. It sounded serious.

A pang of guilt echoes through me again, especially when Lord Graydon's gaze draws to me. His gaze shifts back to the prince nodding.

The doors open, and my gaze shifts from them to the hall. My heart thudding.

I hear the Queen's voice. Calling her son's name in utter delight at his arrival. All I can think of is—

He's in there.
The King is in there.