Elias.
"Your Majesty."
The words drifted through the air like music laced with mystery...soft, yet unmistakably firm. Not the syrupy tone of flattery I had grown used to, but something honest. Clean. Like cool water on a tired mind.
I turned toward the voice, already half expecting the usual...some hopeful noble daughter with her head bowed and dreams raised too high. But when I saw her, I stopped.
She stood there, not trying to be seen, yet impossible to miss.
Light from the setting sun spilled across her face, softening her features until she looked almost unreal....like something the gods whispered into existence. My wolf stirred inside me, not with a growl, but a low, throaty rumble of recognition.
Mate.
The word echoed in me. Not loud, but powerful. As if everything in my world had shifted by a degree.
She stepped forward slowly, her hands folded gently in front of her. Poised, not prideful.
"Forgive me if I intruded," she said. "I hadn't expected anyone else to be out here."
"And I hadn't expected to be addressed by name while enjoying someone else's garden," I replied, a hint of amusement touching my voice. "Seems we've both stumbled into the unexpected."
Her lips curved, not in a practiced smile, but something subtler. Genuine.
"Aurora Ashford," she said after a beat. "Daughter of Lord Gideon Ashford."
Ah. So Vincent had been right, after all.
The daughter who was always whispered about in hushed tones. The one who rarely appeared at balls or councils. The one rumored to have brought shame to her family name.
Yet, there she stood...calm as a winter lake. No simpering curtsy. No giggling. No veil of charm or honeyed words.
She simply existed in the space, unapologetically herself.
"Aurora," I echoed, letting the name settle on my tongue. It fit her....soft but sharp, a quiet fire.
"You're far from the gathering," I said, watching her carefully.
"I prefer the quiet," she said, with a shrug that barely moved her shoulders. "Besides, my sister is far better at entertaining guests. I tend to wilt under too many eyes."
Her honesty disarmed me. So many women I'd encountered painted their words with whatever shade they thought I wanted to hear. But Aurora? She spoke as if I were just another man in a garden.
Not a king.
I stepped off the stone path, boots crunching softly against the gravel as I moved closer.
"And yet here you are, addressing a king in the shadows of his own boredom."
She tilted her head. "I wasn't expecting to find you here either," she said, her voice light. "Had I known, I might've stayed hidden among the roses."
A laugh escaped me....unexpected and unguarded. Short, but real.
It felt like the first real thing I'd done in weeks.
I'd come to the Ashford estate under the guise of diplomacy. Their land bordered three crucial regions, and negotiations with the other families had been long, political, and mind-numbingly exhausting. I hadn't intended to linger afterward.
And I certainly hadn't expected her.
"Do you often escape into gardens to hide, Lady Aurora?" I asked, tone teasing but curious.
"Only when the halls are filled with empty conversation and people pretending to care," she replied.
There it was again.....that honesty. That bold simplicity. It was magnetic.
I couldn't stop looking at her.
She didn't fidget. Didn't flutter. Didn't perform.
There was strength in her stillness, a quiet gravity in the way she carried herself...as though she'd learned long ago how to walk through storms without asking the rain to stop.
My wolf stirred again. Not demanding, but alert. Attentive.
I held him back. Now wasn't the time. She couldn't know....not yet. I wasn't ready to name what I felt.
"What is it you find so dull about noble gatherings?" I asked, intrigued by her candor.
"Everything," she said, with a half-smile. "The games. The masks. The way truth is powdered and perfumed until it dies in a corner. It's all just... exhausting."
"You think truth has no place in court?"
"I think it's rarely welcome," she said. "Not unless it's wearing a prettier dress."
A sharp mind. A sharper tongue. I found myself leaning in....not physically, but mentally. Emotionally. Like a man drawn to fire, knowing he might burn but stepping forward anyway.
"I don't often meet people who speak so freely to me," I admitted.
"I don't see the point in pretending. You already have enough people lying to you, Your Majesty. Why add one more?"
A breeze swept through, catching a lock of her dark hair and brushing it across her cheek. She made no move to fix it, and somehow, that made her even more striking. As if beauty wasn't something she wore....but something she was, even when she wasn't trying.
"I've had my fill of liars," I murmured. "And still, I find myself wanting more of this."
"More of what?"
"This quiet. This honesty."
Her eyes met mine....steady, unreadable, but not cold.
From beyond the hedges, I heard Vincent call my name....his voice distant but growing nearer.
A reminder of who I was. What I had come for. The burden I carried, and the image I had to uphold.
I turned to look, saw his familiar form approaching through the trees.
Duty. Always waiting.
I glanced back at her.
"Your sister," I said, reaching for a reason to linger, "She made quite the entrance earlier."
Aurora chuckled, and the sound was like wind chimes caught in twilight. Gentle, musical, unbothered.
"Lily enjoys being seen, she loves the attention" she said. "She shines. She was born for it."
"And you?"
"I prefer places where I can breathe."
I understood more than I wanted to admit. I, too, knew what it was to feel smothered beneath crowns and expectations.
Vincent was closer now, his expression unreadable but curious.
I turned to Aurora one last time.
"I should return."
She dipped her head in a nod. "Thank you for indulging my interruption."
"You've done more than that, Lady Aurora."
There was a flicker in her eyes then.....confusion, perhaps. Or curiosity. But I didn't let her speak.
I turned away and walked back toward the path, my steps slower than they should've been, each one heavier than the last.
Vincent fell into step beside me, silent until we'd cleared the hedges.
"She's not what I expected," he murmured finally.
"Nor I," I replied.
"With all the stories about her… I thought she'd be cold. Withdrawn. Maybe bitter."
"She's none of those things."
He glanced at me sideways. "You looked... drawn to her."
I said nothing.
Because I was.
I could still feel her presence lingering like the scent of lavender and smoke. Still hear the echo of her voice in my mind.
Mate.
My wolf whispered it again, louder now. Proud. Claiming.
I wasn't ready to name it. Not aloud. But I could feel the truth moving beneath my skin like a storm.
"Why her?" Vincent asked softly. "What is it about her that caught your eye?"
I didn't answer right away.
Because I didn't know yet.
But deep down, something in me already did.