The Lycan King's Puppet

She was dressed in a peach dress, her waist petite and alluring. But what caught his attention was the creamy skin of her breasts exposed to his view.

He had never seen her look so...

Her Auburn hair was pinned up, exposing her soft chin and nape to the view of everyone around.

Garelle slowly pulled away, the only contact between them being her gloved hand tucked in the crook of his arm as they watched the duo leave.

"He’s a dead man." She said, her voice light with humour and a tinge of dread.

Yeren kept his face expressionless, but he knew Claire had seen the crack before he had masked it.

She always did. For some reason, she had that power over him.

And a part of him hated it.

He was walking before he realized it.

Garelle followed him quietly, her hand still looped in his trustingly.

From what he could see, Claire held herself very stiffly, as if she were trying to stop herself from breathing too obviously.

"Don’t tell me you intend to follow them." Garelle said, her eyes fixed on the couple walking a good distance ahead of them.

"I have no bloody idea." He whispered in response.

Aldrich guided her to the loveseat at the center of the rose garden and set her down gently.

Yeren and Garelle paused at the entrance briefly before waltzing through the garden as well.

Claire didn’t look up as they passed, but her companion did. The gardens were big enough for them to coexist without crossing paths after all.

"Whatever is troubling you?" He heard Aldrich ask her, tipping her head upwards and forcing her to look into his eyes.

Yeren felt his jaw tighten at the intimate act.

They settled down on the seat at the far end, removed enough from the couple’s line of sight.

"I never would have believed that you would become so..." She trailed off.

"So what?" He prodded.

Garelle cleared her throat quietly, averting her gaze. "So dedicated to one woman."

Dedicated?

He wanted to laugh, but his gaze trailed back to the couple.

Aldrich was brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Then, the bloody man leaned forward and pecked her on the lips.

"Why did you do that?" He heard Claire ask, sounding shocked and flustered.

Her spine was straight. Too straight - she was uncomfortable?

Was Lord Bronan harassing her?

Yeren squinted his eyes.

"I just wanted to know what it would be like to finally kiss you."

How pathetic, Yeren wanted to roll his eyes.

Garelle’s gaze darted between him and them, a concerned look on her face.

"Walk with me." Garelle finally said.

Yeren didn’t move. He didn’t even seem to hear anything she said.

His eyes were fixed on the way Aldrich was smoothing her lips with the pad of his thumb, and she was allowing him.

Garelle stood up and pulled him up with her.

"Carry me." She said softly.

He thought he misheard her.

"Carry me, Your Grace. The way you would have carried me on our wedding day."

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as he studied her expression.

"Have you thought about my proposal?"

Yeren’s hands froze at his sides as he listened.

What proposal?

"I lost the letter." Claire whispered in response.

"It doesn’t matter. I believe you know why I wrote it?"

She nodded very slowly.

"I haven’t thought about it yet."

The brazen man brushed a stray strand of her hair out of her face with an amount of tenderness that put Yeren to shame.

"I can court you for a thousand years, if that’s what it takes."

The statement earned a small chuckle from her. She leaned forward and brushed the lapel of his coat, her fingers lingering longer than it should have.

But he noticed...

Garelle all but launched herself into his arms.

"I can’t let you make a fool out of the two of us. You can foam at the mouth when you are alone." Then she wrapped her arms around his neck.

She smirked when he caught her reflexively.

Gritting his jaw, he moved with her quietly.

And they passed the aisle just in front of Claire and the buffoon that was making a sad excuse for a proposal.

Not once did he glance in their direction... but he could feel her eyes burning into his back as they retreated into the shelter of the building.

He only allowed himself to grin smugly when they were inside.

And he dropped Garelle on her feet unceremoniously.

She smoothed her dress and looked up at him.

"I didn’t do all this for nothing. If you don’t end up with the woman of your choice, be it her or some other woman, all this would be for naught."

He stepped closer, close enough to smell the oils she used in her bath water.

"I won’t be pressured into doing anything no matter how pure your intentions are, Lady Plumette."

She shrank back and gulped.

Then, with a small nod, she spun on her heel and literally disappeared down the hall.

He stood there staring at the ghost of her shadow before moving to the study.

Once the door closed behind him, he finally let out a long breath.

Solitude at last.

The urge to be alone with his own thoughts had been pressing down on him the whole time.

There was a quiet knock on the door.

Who was it?

As far as he was concerned, no one knew he would be here.

"You may enter." He called out, sliding behind the large polished table. His fingers found the quill out of habit and fondled it as he waited for the person to reveal himself.

Andon walked in, dressed similarly to how he looked - miserable. But the coat he wore masked the disgraceful choice of clothing he had on.

"Your Grace." He stood near the door as he bowed.

Yeren nodded, feeling the tension in the air like a presence.

Would things ever be the same between them after all this? He wondered.

"May I speak my mind?"

Yeren raised a brow. Since when did Andon ask for permission to share his thoughts?

But he nodded all the same. "You may."

He gestured at the seat before him but Andon shook his head, his gaze distant and nearly blank.

"I came to save you the trouble of hosting another trial." He paused and let out a small breath.

Yeren didn’t interrupt him.

"I understand the gravity of what I have done, and it is unforgivable before the Moon Goddess and man. I therefore step down from my duties to the Crown if you will ordain it, and will take Lady Plumette as my wife - if she will have me."

Yeren blinked.

How much did you have to drink last night?"

Andon blinked.

"I drank neither wine nor ale the previous night."

Yeren hated it. He hated the formality, the distant, yet cold politeness. He knew it was usually the norm, and he ought to have grown accustomed to it - but he preferred Andon’s warmth to anything else.

"What in the world would ever make you think that I would replace you, or force you to marry a woman against your will?"

The surprise in the other man’s face was unmistakable.

"I... I am only trying to spare you the agony of a fruitless court proceeding. I am guilty on all accounts, I would hate for you to soil your good name-"

"A single woman won’t make me throw away decades of friendship."

Andon’s eyes widened at the mention of ’friendship’.

Yeren was shocked himself - he had never used that word to refer to their relationship. He had never even referred to it as a relationship, as a matter of fact. But it was all clear at this point.

Andon was his only friend.

Andon’s expression faltered.

"I hope you know that I would never do such a thing to you."

Yeren wanted to confess all that Garelle had done at that point - but he knew how much Andon would hate her if he found out.

And he didn’t want to be the cause of any enmity between them.

Yeren pressed his fingertips together and sighed.

"I know that."

Andon’s shoulders tensed.

"So what would you tell the court? I have wronged the whole Kingdom, it would be unfair for me to go unpunished."

Yeren sat quietly and stared into the wall before him, dreading the words he knew he had to say.

"Which is why I will exile you for a year."