The Lycan King's Puppet

The wedding preparations were the only thing the servants talked about in the coming week.

She hadn’t seen the King in seven days. From what she heard, he wrote to Andon very often, and once to his family. Even a letter was specifically addressed to his bride.

But none was sent to her.

She wasn’t surprised, but it didn’t stop it from stinging.

At least, he was hale and hearty enough to write letters to the people he cared about - even if he never wrote one to her.

Rory began walking again, her limping fading as the days went by.

The healer had come and gone, refusing to share his results with her.

All Lara and her girls talked about was the bride’s dress and how much better it would have suited her instead of the young Lady Plumette.

Speaking of the woman, Lady Plumette appeared to be a sweetheart.

She always spoke gently and respectfully to everyone.

Even to her.

At first, Claire was sure it was an act. But it wasn’t. She had hoped it would be - so she would have a reason to despise the King’s bride.

Garelle, as she advised everyone to call her, was nothing like most noblewomen Claire had encountered. Garelle had tried to foster a friendship between them, but Claire had thwarted all her efforts - she liked Garelle too much to pretend they could be friends.

And she knew about Yeren’s affiliation with her, even though Andon claimed the contrary every time an awkward situation arose.

And Andon. He always invited herself and Aurora to dinner. He was more quiet than usual - which the whole castle noticed - but he never lost his sense of humour.

Three days to the wedding, she and Aurora took a stroll along the gardens.

The wedding was to take place in the castle’s chapel. A good portion of the rose garden has been harvested to decorate the interior.

The father was nowhere to be seen on such days.

"I do hope you let me attend, Claire. I’ve never been to a wedding before."

Claire nodded absent-mindedly.

"Of course. Although, I’m not sure young ladies such as yourself are invited, Rory."

Rory’s shoulders drooped.

"I understand."

Eliza and Garelle were coming from the other end of the garden, arm in arm. They both laughed about something Eliza had said as they walked.

Rory stiffened, her smile vanishing all together.

"What is it?" Claire nudged her.

"Nothing."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Don’t accuse me of keeping secrets when I decide to-".

"She’s the one who keeps sending letters to Lord Andon. Very inappropriate letters."

Claire stopped herself from gasping just in time.

That couldn’t be true.

"And how do you know this, young lady?"

Both women were getting closer to them.

"She sends her letters through Maria. But Lord Andon refuses to read them, so Maria reads them to me."

Claire blinked.

Oh.

"What do you mean by inappropriate?"

Aurora coloured slightly. "She always writes of how she longs for him at night, how she prays for the comfort of his touch..."

Claire cleared her throat, averting her gaze as both women finally reached them.

"Claire." Garelle embraced her warmly.

"Miss Stenly." Eliza said, exchanging pecks with her.

Rory curtsied at both of them, casually withdrawing to give them space.

Garelle reached out and ruffled her hair.

"No need to run, sweet girl. We actually came in search of you and your sister." Garelle said, beaming at both of them.

Claire looked at them expectantly.

"The King is set to arrive within the hour according to the letter his forerunner gave to Lord Andon. And, Lord Andon specifically requested that you and your sister join the royal welcome party.

Claire blinked.

Why? She had no intention of being there.

"Follow us, dear." Eliza held out her hand to Aurora.

Glancing briefly at Claire, Rory took the outstretched hand.

As they got to the entrance, many people were already gathered. Most of the peers of the Realm, the courtiers and council members, as well as the heads of the armies.

Garelle guided them to the front of the party and placed them in a spot they couldn’t dare to hide.

She didn’t want to see him.

Not yet.

On her right was Redmare. Directly behind her was Aldrich.

"Good day, Miss Stenly." Redmare whispered through the side of his mouth.

She nodded curtly at him, focusing her attention on the gold-coated exterior of the beautiful carriage before her.

Then, he came out.

He was wearing his black cloak with a dark green brocade and matching breeches beneath.

He didn’t smile as his eyes roamed the crowd.

Andon stepped forward and clasped hands with him. Only then, did his lips crack slightly.

It was almost as if she was holding her breath until he smiled.

He wasn’t limping, neither was either of his arms in a sling, neither were there marks on his face. He seemed... fine.

He was a pureblooded Lycan after all.

Then, Redmare gave her a little push from behind.

"Why don’t you show us how much you missed his cock, you little whore." He murmured.

She stumbled forward, struggling to hold her ground.

Aurora glanced at her with concerned eyes.

Thank God her innocent sister hadn’t heard his filthy words, she said to herself.

Then Aldrich took her hand from behind.

"We should leave." He whispered in her ear.

She didn’t move. Her blood was beginning to boil.

Just as he tugged her arm again, Yeren’s gaze found hers. Her knees suddenly felt weak.

His eyes looked harder - rid of its former tenderness, his shoulders seemed slightly broader.

The aftermath of war, she mused.

Then, Aldrich slipped an arm around her waist and guided her away, severing the contact between her and the man across the yard.

She nodded at her sister before following Aldrich. The people gathered started clearing a path for them. His hand fell away from her waist quietly and he resorted to holding her arm.

Claire glanced behind her one more time, and she didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as he watched her leave.