Princess of the Wolves

Chapter Eleven:

Genevieve, who chose to go by her nickname Genna, was coming home today from the academy today. She hadn't finished her schooling at the finishing academy for the royalty of the communities of the spellcasters, werewolves (other than her own united nation), vampires, ghouls, and the whole lot of the magical community. Her family ruled the largest group of werewolves, but they were located basically everywhere. They were few and far between in the hotter parts of the earth, but there were still some in other places. Her family tended to focus on the ones under their domain, but she knew wolves from around the globe from places like India, Russia, Luxembourg,  Finland, and Australia. Humans didn't realize that there was a whole other world under their fleshy noses. Genna didn't deal with wolves and instead tended to "hang out" with vampires and spellcasters, which was odd for a werewolf. They were not enemies, but they really didn't get along. She liked them better; they were more refined, clever, and witty. She was moving back home though, because of a rebel attack that worried her parents. Although the school was halfway across the world in human Europe, her parents feared that the rebels may have allies that would attack the school. She mournfully left her home in luxurious Europe for cold, barren human Alaska, where her family's castle was. She had learned the finer things in life like poise, elegance, how to host a proper tea party, and other trival royal things. She had loved it. She left behind so many friends, an adoring boyfriend, and a spotless reputation for what? An icy throne with people she hardly knew anymore.

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I hardly knew anything about Princess Genevieve, and Dimitri didn't offer much help. I think he didn't know much about her either. Although she wrote monthly to the King and Queen, they hadn't seen her in the flesh for three years. Dimitri offered her little more than a shoulder shrug, and said, "She's cool, I guess." That didn't offer me much hope. It was midnight whenever her car pulled through the pathless woods that secluded the palace. I had been up waiting alert with my ears perked back. With his arm around my shoulder, he gave me a look with his eyebrow raised, "What are you worried about?"

"I not," I shook my head, lying. I didn't know why she scared me. What bothered me about a girl I didn't even know or hadn't even met. I had no idea what she looked like, and not knowing for some reason bothered me. 

We all stood out on the brick pavers that created a small patio before the huge front door. The line was quite orderly and looked professional. The Queen's eyes had sparkled however with hope and sheer contentment. She even held the King's hand, which I had never seen them do before. The car had been stopped for a moment, but no one got out. A balding chauffeur hopped out of the car and around it, then opened the door. Coming out of the car wasn't a girl but a supermodel. She was gorgeous, refined, and looked proper. Nothing like me. The Queen rushed over to her and greeted her with a hug. It was actually heartwarming to see the Queen react like that to anyone. I grew dissatisfied when the girl patted her on the back twice and pull away. 

Her voice was stiff and royal, like Dimitri's was whenever he had to greet the public. "Good to see you too, Mother Queen."

Her father spoke to her first, as the Queen tried to conceal the hurt look on her face. Dimitri beside me tensed up as she looked over all of us. "It's wonderful to see you Genevieve. We are so glad to have you back."

 "Thank you Father King," she replied in a floating, stiff voice, "It is Genna now." She repeated it like it were French, "Genna."

"We must hear all about your time away," the Queen said with gained composure, "Your letters left a lot to the imagination, my dear."

Genna yawned a bored yawn, "I'm quite tired. The ride was lengthy, tiresome, and boring. There is not much to look at." She made a hand gesture towards the woods behind her. "Someone call someone to take these to my room!" Dimtri broke rank and went to get the bag that the chauffeur had left on the walk before driving away. "Brother! I meant the help unless that is you have become downgraded since I left, which I wouldn't doubt." She laughed; his nostrils flared. 

"It's late," he replied, "They're all off duty for the night."

"So..." she tapped her foot. She then switched her gaze to me, "Ah, this must be your new play thing." 

"Excuse me!" he growled at her.

"This is why I like the vampires so much more," she states, startling everyone, mainly the King and Queen. The Queen even jumped back.  She then stooped down to pick up the bag, which Dimitri dropped back on the ground after I had been called a "play thing." She then picked it up, and said to me, "I'd like to speak with you sometime. Come along; let's talk."

Dimitri stepped in front of me defensively, and snarled at her, "She's not yours to order around."

"Right," she snapped back, "I forgot that werewolves were so controlling. Good to see some things don't change."

Then, in a blur, she swiftly strode away and flung her bag at a guard, who was in charge of watching the main door. He could do nothing else but follow her up the stairs. 

"She didn't mean it," the King said surprisingly quietly. 

About a half an hour later, Dimitri was angrily chewing on  some ice that was left over from his glass of water. We stopped in the kitchen before heading upstairs, which I found out was the same floor as the one where "Genna" would be staying. Her parents were stunned and talked quietly and hurriedly. Dimitri hadn't said a word but had a brooding and angry attitude. 

"You're not controlling," I told him. He gave me a sarcastic look, rolled his eyes, then went back to chewing his ice.  I then had a spark of curiosity and told him, "I'm going for a walk." He was hung up on the "controlling" comment. I left the room at one in the morning without a second look.