The Wolf and the Maiden

Chapter 3

Rían slept like s**t.

The strange room that made all sorts of weird-ass noises, the bed’s sorry excuse for a mattress with feathers that seemed to stab through the covering, the itchy linens. It all sucked. So, when his servant threw open the thick, heavy curtains of the large gothic-shaped windows, letting in a blast of morning light, he groaned in protest, mostly because it felt like he had literally just finally fallen asleep. Unsure if he were glaring at the sudden sunburst or maybe at the stoic middle-aged man, Rían checked his expression quickly as the servant started making his way over to him.

“My Lord,” Geoff came to his bedside and bowed slightly with his hands clasped behind him. “I am to escort you to the Great Hall for the morning meal. Would you like me to assist you in dressing?” Rían slowly sat up, though the immediate chill of the room nearly had him burrow under the covers once again.

His hands dragged down his face as he yawned, trying to wake himself up. “No, I’ll do it. Thanks.” Apart from his tailor, no one had assisted him with his clothes before and the whole idea just weirded him out a little. Besides, he could figure it all out on his own, right?

“Of course, My Lord. Let me fetch your clothes for you,” he bowed again before walking over to the large wardrobe and opening its dark oak double doors. “His majesty requested that you wear the traveling attire today since you’ll be journeying south?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s right.”

“Very good, Sir.” Geoff replied from deep inside the closet. A moment later, he reemerged with a stack of clothes that were a far cry from normal. So, when the servant laid them on the bed at his feet, Rían stared at it incredulously. “I’ll be waiting for you outside your chamber if you should need me,” he bowed and turned to leave.

“Wait!” Rían called out, to which Geoff turned back to him immediately, his bustling brows shooting upward. “Um, I…” his eyes jumped to the clothes again as his hand rubbed over his jaw. “Well, I might need a little help?”

Geoff smiled, “Of course, my Lord.” He bowed, then retrieved the top item on the pile. Unfolding the thin linen piece, revealing what Rían figured was some version of long underwear, Geoff dropped to his knees in front of him as he prepped to assist him. Already feeling awkward with having someone help him dress as if he were a toddler, it didn’t help when his brother burst into his room at this exact moment.

“Oh, sorry, Ry. Am I interrupting something?” He strode into the room, fully dressed as well as sporting his classic bullshitting grin as he volleyed from the kneeling servant to him again. “Maybe I’ll give you two about five more minutes?” he motioned to leave.

Rían rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he grabbed the odd old man underwear from Geoff and sliding into them by himself. “Asshole,” he muttered. The servant promptly got to his feet and went to grab another article of clothing, completely aloof to their conversation.

“It’s all good, Bro. I just didn’t expect you to lose your virginity when we’re not even twenty-four hours of being at this Goddess forsaken place.” His hands clasped his hips as a jaded smirk assessed the chamber. “But as they say, to each his own…”

“I wasn’t— that’s not what was going on! This is all new and he was helping me figure out how to get ready.” When Geoff approached him again with what Rían knew had to be dark leather pants, he snatched them quickly and put them on. Even when the front ties were a bit complicated, he worked them until he figured it out, not wanting Geoff to be anywhere near his díck and give his brother more fuel for his teasing.

Rory, of course, filtered what he said through his porno-brain anyway.  His brow rose to the occasion, “Well, we can try and hit a few brothels while we’re out and about if you need help getting ready to meet your mate? Though, I am sure Geoff here is probably cleaner than the escorts in this realm. And he’ll most likely be a better experience?” He nudged the servant who looked at him promptly. “Whatta ya say, Geoff? You game? My boy here needs to learn some skills.” The old guy’s eyes bugged out, probably terrified he’d have to do everything Rory told to do.

“s**t, Rory. Stop!” Rían growled, trying to focus on tethering the leather laces of his breeches so he didn’t end up flashing someone throughout the day. “Just because I haven’t officially had s*x doesn’t mean I’m not experienced in other things.” He declared, feeling a great deal of satisfaction when he finally figured out how to secure his pants. Rían glared at Rory while he took the leather surcoat from Geoff. “So, I don’t need medieval hookers to help me with anything! Besides, it’s not like I’m going to find my kamará here in this realm.”

“What? Vafaren females not your type?” Rory toyed with the silver amulet draping at his chest as he laughed, “Or maybe the males?” His brow playfully rose. “Ry, are you sure you didn't feel any tingles when Geoff was touching you?” 

“Why would you even joke about the scânteie like that?” That scared, spiritual connection between him and his mate, that physical rapture of when their bodies would touch, wasn’t something his brother should be mocking. Frankly, Rían looked forward to the day when he felt that union with his kamará because seeing how his parents were so tight, so much in love, made him crave that bond, and was the prime reason he wanted to wait to be completely intimate with someone.

That longing to find his kamará had been his primary reason for the tattoo on the left side of his chest, the hiraeth, the rune engraved close to his heart as a testament of his ardent desire to find his soulmate. Sure, he’d gotten the ink done after a night of partying with his brother a few years ago and was probably a bit more drunk than he should have been. But even after living through the relentless torture of Rory’s snide jokes, he never did regret it. Because it was how he felt. 

The longing for something that was just out of reach…

But now, with being yanked off track and into a backwards realm, his search had undoubtedly, unfortunately, been put on hold to find his kamará.

“Chill, Bro. Rule numero uno— stop being so uptight about everything,” Rory dismissed.

“Yeah, like I’m going to take any relationship advice from a s****l deviant.”

“Ouch,” Rory chuckled. “You make me sound so naughty.”

“Yeah, well, someday all that is gonna blow up in your face when you find your kamará.”

“Touché, again,” he looked absolutely unbothered, his eyes dancing, begging, for more banter. 

Thankfully, the surcoat fastened with only metal buckles and toggles, so securing them only took a matter of seconds. Examining himself in the mirror,  Rían was amazed with the overall appearance. It was a lot more leather than he’d ever worn at one time, but it looked good. And, it fit perfectly, which was surprising. Being a tall and muscular man – as most Lycan were— he always would need to be fitted for new clothes. His attention shot over to Rory, whose mirthful grin promised more s**t to be said, but Rían’s focus dipped moreso over his attire. Those, too, fit him well, as if they were made specifically for him. 

How did King Joel know our body types and sizes?

With Geoff handing him a belt, Rían broke away from his thoughts as he now fought to figure out why the hell he needed such a long strap. Admittedly, he had to eye his brother’s a few times before he knew what to do with it, seeing how some of the belt hung loosely at his side.  After stomping his feet into a pair of boots that reached the bottoms of his knees, he gazed at himself once more in the mirror, wanting to see the complete look. His stomach sank more than he thought it would, drowning in how surreal this all still was.

Damn— am I really here? Is this really me? Rían ran his hand through his thick black hair that was in desperate need of a comb and product.

“Ready to go downstairs, Princess, or do you need Geoff here to help you with your hair, too?” Rory scoffed as he walked to the door. Even though he huffed at his brother’s comment as he followed him out of the chamber, Rían couldn’t help but tousle it a little bit more as they made their way to the Great Hall.

Unlike last night when they had arrived at the castle, the Great Hall now bustled with courtiers and servants, and the tables that lined the walls were filled with an arrangement of breads, fruits, cheeses, and pitchers of wine. In the center of the chamber sat a quartet of musicians plucking away at various instruments, giving off a gentle melody that mingled amid the modest din of conversation.

As Geoff quickly ushered them toward the end of the Hall, headed for the king’s table, which had been placed up on the daïs where they had found King Joel merely hours before, the room fell to a gentle murmur as they walked through it. Dozens of eyes followed them, though the gawking wasn’t anything that bothered them anymore. He and Rory were often the center of attention wherever they went, especially together. And it wasn’t conceited to realize his effect on people; rather, it was just the nature of being a Lycan— the Goddess created her children to be beautiful creatures and it simply was their reality. Even when in beast form, with silver eyes and platinum hair standing at an impressive eight-feet-tall, that too left people awe-struck.

As they strode closer to the daïs, his eyes scanned the grand table, noting the many unfamiliar faces, but also that Isak and Chaz had already been seated at the king’s far right side near a few empty chairs awaiting them. 

Before they took a seat, Geoff directed them to nearly the same spot they stood last night, squarely in front of King Joel at the bottom of the steps.

“Ah, Prince Rían, Prince Rory, welcome,” he greeted with as much enthusiasm as before as his hand flourished to his left, indicating an older gentleman with whisps of frosty hair and richly dressed in violet brocade, “Let me introduce you to my Primer Advisor Tamas. And next to him, my younger brother, Prince Bere.” As Advisor Tamas looked like he had a stick up his ass with his pinched face and scowling wrinkles that seemed to even furrow his balding head, Prince Bere beamed at the two of them, nodding back as they respectfully bowed. With his sandy blonde hair and light eyes, he looked the perfect carbon copy of his older brother, though his pallid face and weak smile hid an untold truth. “And beside him is our dearest Queen Mother Oletta.” The elder woman issued a brief nod, which could have grown stiff with her old age or maybe this was part of her austere demeanor. The king finally motioned to his right, and interestingly, his smile wilting some, his eyes nearly chilling within their sockets, “And this is my wife, Queen Marleina,” he said tightly, barely looking at her.

Despite her frosty reception, she smiled warmly, enhancing her already stunning features. “Welcome, Prince Rían, Prince Rory,” her voice was sweet, pleasant. The queen’s pink taffeta gown complimented the gathering of rose-colored ringlets pinned in a bun at the top of her head, with the radiance that burst through the large stained glass windows behind her setting them on fire.

While Rían acknowledged Queen Marleina with a courteous bow, he noticed his brother had yet to do the same. When chastising him with a slight elbow bump didn’t work, he issued a quick side-glare at his brother, which is when he noticed Rory was standing absolutely still, staring at the queen with incredulous wide eyes, his nostrils tweaking, as if taking subtle pulls of air.

“Ror?” Rían muttered. Rory blinked himself back to coherence, immediately realizing his folly and quickly stooped to a bow. After standing upright again, he hit him with another elbow assault, whispering. “What the hell was that?” Rory didn’t respond, though his stride was weighted, irritated, as they made their way to the seats amidst the other princes.

As the servants began plating their food--- and much to Rían’s relief that the king’s table had the privilege of roasted chicken added to their menu--- he continued to watch his brother, who had gone uncharacteristically quiet. Also, his eyes were either glued to the food he hadn’t yet touched, caged within his fisted hands, or they were shifting every so often down the table. After tracking this for a bit, Rían realized he was not only gawking at the queen, and she was actually peeking at him, too, with subtle, furtive glances herself.

Oh, s**t. Ror—don’t even think about banging the queen!

“Rory?” Rían pressed as he popped a grape into his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

His brother’s head dipped, glaring aimlessly at his plate again. His Adam’s apple bobbed a few times before he whispered low enough that only their Lycan hearing could pick it up within the din of the room, “Queen Marleina---”

“---don’t do it, Bro!” Rían jumped immediately. “NOT a good idea. The king will have your díck in a---”

“---Rían!” he hissed, his eyes burning into him enough to cut him off completely. “I think--- s**t!” He leaned his elbows on the table, grabbing tufts of hair. Rory rarely lost his s**t like this, which raised Rían’s alarm immediately.

“What is it?”

His head raised slightly, eyes fleeing back down the table, falling on the woman in question as he breathed, “I think she’s my kamará.”