The First Queen *Sample Only*

Chapter 16

I did everything that was asked of me for the next few days. I would quietly eat my suppers with the king in the evenings. Sometimes he would force small talk; sometimes we would sit in silence. Either way I only spoke when spoken to and I always answered his questions as promptly as I could without being rude. Every morning I was forced into a dress, yet I would never leave my bedroom unless the king consented.

I was slowly learning to sew with the help of my maids so I could pass by the dull days. Lydia didn't seem to care much for the idea of a maid teaching me such a skill, but the smallest maid, Isabelle, was delighted to teach me. I wasn't much good at it, and I spent much of my time yelping and fussing over my damaged finger tips but it certainly passed the time. In addition to this, it made me feel less alienated. I knew I wasn't truly royal, only by marriage, but I was also above my maids. Having time to stitch might've brought me further away from my royal title but at least I had company.

James stayed far away from me during this time and I couldn't say I blamed him. The king had shown a very violent side of himself that morning, one that had terrified me. I didn't doubt that James was also worried, perhaps even more so than I was. His job and life could be at stake just the same, but he had the training and the upbringing to know better. My ignorance may serve as a heavy excuse. Or maybe he was less worried because he understood the nature of the king more intensely than I did.

I still did not understand what marking was and I was too scared to ask, but I did not want such horrific events to be turned onto James. He was the closest thing I ever had to a friend and I wanted to keep him safe from the king, even if that meant he had to stay away from me and I had to remain in the dark about werewolves for the time being.

But while James stayed very far away from me, the doctors were always hovering around. I was seen by one doctor in the morning and another in the evening after supper every day. They would ask me the same questions about my neck, unwrap, inspect, then rewrap my wound. One was still rude, the other was kind and gentle. Regardless, they both seemed to think I was healing okay. Occasionally I thought their actions were tedious, but then I reminded myself of the extreme and debilitating pain I had been in when the 'marking' had occurred so I said nothing and let them work as they pleased.

One day, when I was stitching with Isabelle I finally gave up on maintaining silence. It was too much, my mind was drowning in boredom and I feared that I would go crazy soon if I had no purpose other than healing my wound and stitching.

"Are you a werewolf as well?" I asked, peeking up from my messy work. I made sure the other maids were too far away to hear, busying themselves with cleaning my armoire and scrubbing the already pristine floor.

Isabelle froze for a second, her hands no longer hemming a pair of breeches that must've belonged to the king. They were too fine of material to belong to anyone else.

"We aren't allowed to discuss such matters." She answered quietly. Her soft eyes remained intent on her work, so I wasn't even able to read an expression.

"Why not?" I challenged. I leaned towards her, eager to hear every word that came out of her mouth. I wanted to unravel this mystery more than anything.

"The king forbade it among staff. He does not wish to have a divide between the humans and the werewolves. He says that we must all work together so personal matters are to be left for the home." She explained.

"I see, so he's worried that many people would have prejudices against one another and the flow within the palace would be disrupted." I set aside my stitching and straightened my back in the leather chair, "But you and I do not work together, therefore the rule doesn't directly apply to us. So tell me, are you a werewolf or a human?" I asked again.