ROYAL CONTEST

6| CHAPTER SIX

CROWN PRINCE OWEN'S POV

"How is everything going with the ladies? Do you think it will be easy to choose who will be moving to the next round and who will be going home?" My father’s voice was calm, but there was a gleam in his eyes that suggested he was finding some amusement in my predicament.

"Dad, how can you even ask me that? I only spent a single day with them and I'm already fed up. You wouldn't believe all the stories they've been making up so that I can be attracted to them." I threw my hands up in frustration, pacing back and forth in my father's office. The weight of the crown seemed heavier today, the burden of expectation pressing down on my shoulders.

Even though I addressed my father as Your Majesty or His Majesty in front of people and Father in front of my family members, I could address him as Dad when we were alone. I knew it was his way of trying to forge a normal bond between us despite our differences.

"I don't know how I will be able to interact with them until I can at least eliminate five of them. One of them even lied to me that she went to Oxford the same year that I did and also did the same course, not knowing that I went there. Imagine the audacity?" I couldn't keep the disbelief out of my voice. The memory of the encounter was still fresh, the brazen confidence of her lie stunning me into silence at the time.

My father just laughed at me, a deep, rumbling sound that was a rare sight. This is so amusing to him.

"When your mother told you that this isn't going to be an easy road, you thought she was just exaggerating," he said, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of sympathy and amusement.

"It's just that I didn't think there was someone who could lie to this extent." I sighed, feeling the weight of his expectations and the reality of my situation pressing in on me from all sides. The stories I’d heard, the deceit and desperation, it was all so overwhelming.

"I never told you about what happened when I had to choose a bride too. I don't even know where to start. I can only pray that you don't go through the same things I went through." His tone grew sombre, and for a moment, I glimpsed a vulnerability in him that was rarely shown.

"Everything was going fine in the beginning, all the ladies were living in peace and they would sometimes do things together until there was just five of them." He paused, looking out the window as if recalling a distant memory. "You should've seen the things they did. They were framing and harming each other, and that's when we found out that everything was just a pretence."

"Apparently one of them said that they could achieve a lot of things if they support each other and make us look like fools." His voice was tinged with bitterness. "After I eliminated her, the remaining girls went their separate ways, and that led to all the misunderstandings. One of the girls was wrongly accused of something she didn't do."

"She wasn't heartbroken actually; she wished all the girls success and left gracefully. A few days after she left, your mother proved her innocence, and we wanted to bring her back, but she was already gone," my father continued, his voice tinged with regret. His eyes softened as he recounted the past, and I could see the weight of his memories reflected in his gaze.

"She would call your mother every single day to ask how she was doing and how everything was going with the competition," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "She was the only person who had a sincere heart among all the other girls, and I think it was the same reason she became friends with your mother."

I could sense the respect and admiration in his tone. "I'm not going to lie, I was also drawn to her at first, but I fell in love with your mother along the way, which somewhat affected my judgment," he admitted, a rare vulnerability in his eyes.

"How?" I asked, leaning forward, intrigued by the complexities of his past.

"When I realized that I had fallen for your mother, I didn't want to make her feel insecure, and because of that, I didn't want to believe that there might be someone who also has a beautiful heart like hers," he explained, his voice softening. "To me, all the other girls were just here for the position and the power they would have if I chose them as the one person I want to spend the rest of my life with."

His words resonated deeply with me, the echoes of his experience reverberating through my own struggles.

"So, when Clarissa was accused of stealing the family ring that your mother is wearing on her finger right now, I believed what they said. The ring was also found in her room, which made it difficult to tell if she really stole it or not," he continued, his voice heavy with remorse.

"I have thought about that a lot these past few years, and I know that if I wasn't biased, I would've noticed that the story wasn't adding up," he said, his expression pained. "I will never forgive myself for that, and I know I tried to make amends, but it was already too late. Even though I knew I still wouldn't choose her, I wanted her to come back and have a fair chance like everybody else."

"Clarissa is Alyssa's mother?" The realisation hit me like a bolt of lightning, the names sounding so similar, yet I had never made the connection. I remember that I heard my parents talk to Alyssa about her mother but I didn't pay much attention to that at that time.

"That's correct," my father confirmed, his expression a mix of nostalgia and sadness. "The last time we saw each other was when she came to visit your mother after we got married. Your mother was pregnant with you, and Clarissa made sure that she was well taken care of."

The memory seemed to transport him back to a different time, and I could almost see the younger versions of my parents, filled with the excitement and uncertainty of their new roles. "She left soon after your birth and went back to Africa. She loved travelling everywhere in Africa, but she finally settled down when she met Alyssa's father."

I could see the admiration in his eyes as he spoke of Clarissa’s adventurous spirit. "We never spoke after that, and it was hard to find out where she was until we learned that they got married within two months of dating. She didn't even get to spend time with her husband since she was already pregnant when they got married and died while giving birth.

"I don't know what happened, but she didn't even get to see her kids. I know she would've been a wonderful mother, but seeing her daughter yesterday made me happy."

I was very moved by how tragic the whole thing was. Alyssa, the girl who had intrigued me with her sincerity and resilience, was the daughter of someone who had left an indelible mark on my parents. The thought of Clarissa’s unfulfilled dreams and her daughter standing before me, a living testament to her legacy, was almost overwhelming.

"Her father did a wonderful job raising her," my father continued, his voice filled with admiration. "He raised her well, and I am happy that he allowed her to come here. Clarissa promised us that if she ever gave birth to a daughter, she would love it if she experienced what she experienced in this palace."

She sounds like a wonderful person, and I know I would've liked her. I saw the way my mom looked when she was talking to Alyssa about her; she misses her deeply. There was a wistful expression on my mother’s face, a kind of sadness that spoke of a bond lost but never forgotten.

"I was asking myself why someone from outside Harrington Empire would join this competition, but now I understand. You want to honour the promise you all made," I said, piecing together the fragments of this intricate history. It was becoming clear that this was more than just a competition for Alyssa; it was a fulfillment of a promise made long ago.

"It wasn't just about that," my father replied, his tone serious. "Alyssa may be from South Africa, but she is still one of us, and she has werewolf blood running in her veins."

"What?" The word slipped out before I could stop myself. It seemed so improbable, and yet, something about it rang true.

"She is a werewolf, like her mother. She might know or might not know, but she is a werewolf. She also has a wolf inside her, like every other werewolf in this world," he explained calmly as if discussing the weather. My mind raced to reconcile this revelation with the girl I had met.

"Dad, I was so close to her yesterday, and even then, there was nothing supernatural about her. My wolf would've recognized hers even if they'd never met before," I protested, my voice tinged with confusion. The concept of werewolves with such latent abilities was new to me, and I struggled to understand it.

"That's because it is latent," he replied, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that demanded attention. "Her maternal family has a history of latent wolves. Few of them are able to shift, and others don't even have all the characteristics of werewolves. To those who have no idea about their family history, they are just ordinary humans."

According to his explanation, the wolf's presence was more of a whisper than a roar, and the bloodline had been diluted over many years. "The only thing that Clarissa couldn't do was shift, but she still had super strength, and her wounds healed faster, like all werewolves."

It doesn't make sense. I know there are people whose wolves are distant, but I have never met one, and I am still surprised how my wolf missed that. The idea that Alyssa, someone who seemed so ordinary, could be connected to such a powerful lineage was baffling. And to think I was really close to her yesterday.

My wolf has always been able to tell the difference between a normal human and a shifter. There had been no hint, no flicker of recognition, no sense of the supernatural presence that usually set my senses alight.

"When she told us, I was also surprised and I thought she was just lying, but then she asked me to explain how she knew I was a lycan if she wasn't supernatural herself," my father continued, his expression contemplative. The memory seemed to weigh heavily on him, a mix of scepticism and eventual realization. "Only a few people know who we really are, and they don't go around telling everybody, so I knew she was telling the truth. She was also able to run as fast as any wolf I've ever seen."

I found myself picturing Clarissa, her speed and strength, the hidden abilities that had set her apart despite her outwardly human appearance. I wonder if Alyssa is also like that. She didn't look like she knew I wasn't completely human when she first saw me. There had been no sign of recognition in her eyes, no hint that she sensed anything unusual about me. She had treated me as she would any other person, with a naturalness that was both disarming and refreshing.

Is that the reason why I'm so drawn to her? Because she is like me? Somehow that seems very reasonable because my animals seemed really interested in her more than the other girls. The connection between us felt inexplicable yet undeniable, a pull that went beyond mere attraction. In fact, that is an understatement. They didn't even pay attention to any of them, and if I didn't know better, I would think they planned it.

The thought of my wolf, usually so discerning and perceptive, being drawn to Alyssa in such a profound way, made me reconsider everything. It was as if, on some deep, instinctual level, my wolf recognized a kinship with her, a shared heritage that transcended the obvious. This revelation brought a new layer of complexity to my feelings for Alyssa. She wasn't just another contender in this competition; she was someone with a connection to my world, even if she didn’t fully realize it herself.