Secrets in the Wolf King's Castle

Being A Princess

King Wallace spoke first. “Let me introduce my family,” he began. “My wife, Luna Queen Lyria,” he said, and Lyria bowed her head respectfully. It was not custom for Kings and Queens to bow to one another, Weston knew Princes and Princesses would be expected to. “And my children. Prince Wyatt, my oldest,” Wyatt gave a full bow, “and my twins, Weston and Annicke.” Weston bowed, as did Annicke beside him, though, slightly less deeply. Weston tried to hide a smirk as he realized she was still miffed.

Weston didn’t miss the way that the Princess’s eyes lingered and widened on Annicke, though he did not know why.

“And my youngest son, Baiden,” Wallace continued. The four year old bowed somewhat clumsily, his face a picture of exaggerated seriousness. The Queen smiled at him. Baiden was a charmer, and all who met him loved him.

“And finally, this is Aertia, our youngest.” King Wallace pointed to the babe in Lyria’s arms. Aertia was only two. She waved, then hid her face in her mother’s shoulder.

“She’s shy,” Lyria offered, petting the girl’s head. It was true, she rarely spoke to anyone who was not her parents or siblings. The young Princess was coddled by the castle staff, but no amount of coaxing could seem to bring her out of her shell.

“It is a pleasure to meet you all,” King Reginald said. His voice creaked slightly, but otherwise gave no impression of his age. “My wife, Queen Trienna.” The lady in gold inclined her head. “And my daughter, Princess Giannetta.”

Giannetta suddenly dipped into a strange bow, one leg stretching out behind her and the other bending curiously. It gave the effect of appearing as though she suddenly fainted, until she stopped midway. It caused Weston and Annicke to gasp.

“Children,” chided Lyria. “This is the traditional way for young women of the Northern Kingdom to bow, is it not?” she addressed the King. “I apologize, my children have never seen it before.”

“Indeed,” King Reginald said. “I don’t believe my daughter has ever seen a young lady bow as men bow, before.” His eyes lingered on Annicke.

“It is customary in my homeland,” offered the Queen, speaking for the first time. Her voice was deep, but musical, with a rich timbre and velvet smoothness. She spoke with an accent that was different to her husband’s, and she spoke slower, as if the common language of wolves and men of the Northern Kingdom was not natural for her to speak. “I had to learn much when I became Queen of the Northern Kingdom.”

“You’re not from there?” Weston asked, curious, before he could stop himself.

“No,” replied the gold clad Queen. “I was born in the Isles of Gold. I am their Queen, and we joined the Northern Kingdom when I married my husband.”

Weston was confused, but he asked no further questions.

“You’ve arrived early, friend Reginald,” King Wallace said.

“I have, and I hope it is no inconvenience. We had planned to stop at several of our towns and villages at the border of our lands. We have not visited for some time, and thought it would be beneficial for my daughter to spend more time in the area. One day soon, after all, she shall rule them. But many on the border oppose our visit here, I am afraid.” King Reginald sighed. “And so, my advisors deemed it unsafe to continue the tour. We proceeded straight here.”

“No inconvenience at all,” Wallace replied, though Weston knew it was a lie. The chambers for a Royal contingent were still being prepared. “Please, come dine with us,” King Wallace continued. “We were just about to take a midday meal.”

Another lie. The Royal family rarely ate luncheon together, because Weston’s father had many things to attend to. But still, Weston kept quiet. He did not know his father to be a dishonest man, and assumed there was a reason for his untruthfulness.

“That would be lovely,” King Reginald replied. King Wallace smiled and waved to his family, turning and leading the way back to the castle. Weston noticed that a large number of guards and servants followed closely behind King Reginald and his family.

“Go change,” Lyria whispered to Annicke. “And, Wyatt, you need to go straighten your crown. Weston, why aren’t you wearing one?”

“I took it off… we were in the garden,” Weston whispered back.

“Okay, go make yourselves presentable,” Lyria said. She gave Wyatt a smile as his hand hovered over his crown and he frowned, feeling that it was crooked.

“Come,” Wyatt said to Weston and Annicke. They trailed after him, Lyria’s explanation that the three would join them in a few minutes fading into the afternoon air as they moved around to the side of the castle, which would give them faster access to the Royal suites.

“They seem… nice,” Weston said. “But a little odd.”

“Hmmmm,” Wyatt said noncommittally.

“You don’t think so?”

“I just think it is strange,” Wyatt said, his tone quiet and measured, glancing about, “and perhaps suspicious, though perhaps not, that we did not receive any warning that they were coming through our lands at all.”

“Oh,” Annicke said. She, like Weston, hadn’t considered that. “You mean they didn’t pass through any occupied areas to get here?”

“Right.” Wyatt was silent for a moment, thinking. “It’s possible, of course. But it would have to have been done on purpose. I don’t think it would be easy to accidentally choose only those roads which lead to Cyrrillest without ever going through a single town in a single pack. And if any wolf had spotted the Royal procession, undoubtedly Father would know. So… yes, I do think they seem nice, but I find that odd, indeed.”

They reached the Royal suites, and the guards at the door bowed to them. Going through the doors, they separated, each headed for their own rooms.

Annicke went straight for her wardrobe. Opening it, she glanced through the vast array of fine silks and satins, looking for something else.

“Your Highness,” Annicke’s personal Omega, Charre, entered the room through the side entrance.

“Oh, hello Charre. Have you heard that the human Royal family has arrived? And have you seen my purple silk pants?”

“I have heard, Your Highness, but… your mother sent word that you’re to wear this,” Annicke turned for the first time to see Charre holding a beautiful red and white gown.

“Goddess,” Annicke murmured. “I wanted to wear…”

“She said to remind you that first impressions are important,” Charre interrupted. “And that you are the eldest Princess.”

Annicke grimaced. “What is the point of being a Princess if I can’t so much as choose my own clothing?” she muttered mutinously. Nonetheless, she took the dress.