Grace's Point of View:
As I am dressing in my black lace and silk nightgown for bed, I smell the scent of intruders. I quickly summon my guards to investigate who the invaders are and what their purpose is for being on my land. When they return with the report of it being a royal and a kingsguard, I know that the situation must be dire for them to have come to me and then to have run so hard that they succumbed to the darkness of exhaustion.
"Prepare them a room, Tammie." I order one of my maidservants. The young woman with honey colored hair and turquoise eyes hurries to do my bidding. I decide to summon the Council to be witness to the lack of harm I bring to the Princess, now Queen of Werewolves. As I walk down one of the many corridors in my onyx and Amethyst palace, I smell an unwavering and amazing scent. The scent of lavender and vanilla with a subtle hint of strawberries.
'Mate. Follow the smells, please, Grace.' my wolf, Cristyl, begs. I nod even though she can't see it.
I quickly track the scent down to one of the rooms that I had ordered Tammie to fix for the Queen and her kingsguard.
"Tammie, whose room is this?" I ask as she backs out of the cherry wood door.
"It's Queen Amelia Michels's room, my Queen." She says with a deep curtsy. I nod and wave her away to enter into my mate's room. Most royals are married away for politics before they find their mate and are betrothed at an age many years before they come of age to find a mate. I am an exception to this principle seeing as my father used his own land that he'd bought before being exiled out of his pack and deemed a rogue after the Luna of the pack was caught in bed with him, though he was the one being forced to mate with her. He got permission from the King of Werewolves, William John Michels IV, to build this palace and when proven worthy, he was deemed the King of Rogues. My father's moral principle was to accept all rogues who do not bear the mark or scent of traitors. At that time, we had accumulated nearly 200 rogues. Many wanted to get revenge on their packs for turning them away, but my father's kind heartedness helped to guide them in a new direction. A direction of peace among rogues and their exiled packs. He swore to me to never marry me off for any form of politics as long as I swore to never have sex with anyone outside of my mate, before or after I found him or her. Though I swore this when I was four, my father died when I was twelve shortly after my first shift because of an attack from his former pack, the Amethyst Pack. I mourned my father for eight years after my coronation at twelve years old.
"I'm so sorry you will have to feel the pain I felt beginning ten years ago and just starting to dull two years ago." I whisper softly moving a soft brunette curl off of her pale face. My servants have been so kind as to change her out of her royal dressing gowns and into one of the white cotton nightgowns we have set aside for guests. I wonder quietly to myself why they chose a cotton gown instead of a silk one. My thoughts are cut short when she begins to stir mumbling about her mate. I run out of the room at a speed superb to that of normal werewolves that comes with being allowed to be a royal.
'I found her father. I finally found my mate and kept my oath to you. I hope that I have made you proud of who I have become. I swear to you to honor and cherish my beautiful mate. I thank the Moon Goddess for bestowing to me a mate as gorgeous as she. Please, Father, guide me as I lead our pack and unite into hers.'
