The Queen's Conquer

Chapter 10 : Preparations

Resplendent • [ruh-splen-dnt]
Shining brightly.

🖤

~+~

The next several days are spent discussing the details for my marking ceremony with florists, decorators, chefs, event coordinators—the whole circus, essentially. It's an exhausting process, having to think through every feature I want to be included or altered. But Samuel assists me in the decisions whenever it feels as though my head's about to explode from the unnecessary amount of colors, incoherent names of dishes, and thousands of themes I have to pick between.

We've discussed several times whether I want my marking to be public or private. The thought of doing such a thing in front of his entire pack—being so vulnerable before them—sounds nerve-racking, to say the least. But he doesn't attempt to sway me one way or another, even though he mentions a public ceremony is more common for alphas. He wants me to choose—he wants me to be comfortable with whatever decision I make. It puts a weight on my shoulders to know I'm responsible for one of the most important moments of his life, but it's relieving to know I have the ability to decide.

In the meantime, he's also caught me up on all of the details regarding the war—how the packs are winning against the humans and rogues and how his allies are still willing to help Phantomridge despite the commotion about a human being on their territory from a few months ago. Samuel explains that for most marking ceremonies it's tradition to invite your close companions from allying packs, but with the raging war and the target over my head, it's just not as safe as it usually would be.

That's alright though, I think I would likely faint knowing that many people came to watch Samuel sink his teeth into my neck—or even just that fact that there would be too many of them there showing their gratitude towards our newfound bond. I may have grown into a lifestyle of galas, gowns, and proper etiquette, but that doesn't mean I particularly enjoy any of it.

Today, Samuel arranged for me to go dress shopping with Sterling regarding what I want to wear for the ceremony. I told him I don't want to look like some frilly doll of his, but he continued to kiss me and say that I don't have to look like a frilly doll if I don't want to.

Some days I can't help but compare how much different this life is versus what my parents had wanted for me in Mylithia—how I was once shoved into their mold of perfection but now I'm able to bend the mold with ease into whatever I want it to be. Every day feels like a new beginning—like I'm able actually to choose the things that make me happy and love the man who makes my world shine while worshipping every fiber of my soul.

It's now just a little past ten in the morning; the sky is a bright blue shade today—a beautiful sight compared to all of the grey days we've been having this past week. The snow outside still coats everything in its path, but spring is coming soon. It gives me hope that the changing seasons will bring some sense of good—maybe an end to this cruel war.

Maybe my biological father will withhold his forces once Samuel's warriors have slaughtered enough of them for him to barely call them an army anymore. I despise bloodshed—I always have since before I can remember—and I thought with my appointment to Mylithia's regime I would've surely been able to make extensive changes to the way we perceive threats and handle such delicate situations. But now I'll never be able to reconstruct the place I once called home into a unified kingdom for all. Not with this new body and life of mine.

And with Jace as head king now, it makes me wonder if he was the one who determined an alliance with the rogues was the last possible option after the incident at the Snow Ball. His vengeance for his father's death might be why he feels so much hatred towards the packs—towards Samuel and Phantomridge especially.