[Afternoon]
•Kitchen Area•
Ovelia's POV
The afternoon sun streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a golden glow over the countertops. I had spent hours in the library, poring over books about werewolves, trying to understand the world I was now trapped in. Lunch had come and gone, and once again, I'd eaten alone.
Now, Ann kept me company in the kitchen, where I decided to bake cookies. It was the only thing I could think to do—the only language I knew to navigate hostility. My so-called parents had taught me that much: service could sometimes temper cruelty. The recipe book lay open on the counter, its pages stained with memories of flour and butter. I followed the instructions meticulously, my hands steady now with purpose.
"Ding!" The oven chimed, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Lady Ovelia, the cookies are done! They smell amazing!" Ann exclaimed, her voice bubbling with an excitement that felt too pure for this gilded cage. She clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling as she opened the oven. The warm, buttery aroma filled the room, wrapping around us like a comforting blanket.
We waited for the cookies to cool, the anticipation building between us. Finally, I picked one up, the warmth seeping into my fingers, and took a bite. The flavor was crisp and chewy, with just the right amount of sweetness. A genuine smile spread across my face, my chest swelling with a fragile sense of accomplishment. For the first time in this palace, I had created something good.
I offered a cookie to Ann, who hesitated for a moment before taking it. Her eyes widened as she bit into it, and a bright smile lit up her face."These are delicious, Lady Ovelia! Sir Ace will..." she trailed off, her enthusiasm dimming slightly before she recovered. "They're wonderful."
I clasped her hands in gratitude. "Thank you for helping me," I said, my voice soft but sincere.
Ann's smile faltered, and I saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. She pulled me into a tight embrace before I could ask what was wrong. "Thank you, too, Lady Ovelia," she whispered, her voice slightly muffled against my shoulder.
I hugged her back, feeling a connection forming in this place of isolation. After a moment, she pulled away, wiping her eyes and quickly busying herself with preparing hot chocolate.
The kitchen was filled with laughter and the comforting scent of chocolate and baked goods. It felt like a moment of stolen joy. As I arranged the cookies on a plate, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe this small gesture would be a step toward something less terrifying than last night.
•Ace's Office•
I knocked softly before pushing the door open. Ace sat at his desk, his head bent over a stack of papers. The room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the afternoon sun. His sharp gaze flicked up as I entered, and I felt my heart skip a beat. There was a hint of irritation in his eyes, but I pressed on, determined.
I placed the cookies and hot chocolate on his desk, my hands trembling only slightly. He glanced at the tray, then back at me, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between us, heavy with the memory of spilled coffee and torn paperwork.
"Aren't you leaving yet?" Ace snapped, his voice sharp. I flinched, my cheeks burning. But then, to my surprise, he reached for a cookie and took a bite. His expression softened almost imperceptibly.
"Are they okay?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, his tone more measured now. "They're adequate," he said, though he reached for another one immediately. The tension in the room seemed to ease by a fraction.
"I'm glad," I replied, smiling tentatively.
He finished the second cookie, his eyes meeting mine. "You should bring snacks more often," he said, the words sounding less like a compliment and more like a clinical observation.
For a moment, it felt like we had found neutral ground.
But then the warmth vanished from his eyes. He looked away from me, focusing on a point on the wall as if he couldn't bear to look at me while saying what came next. "Ovelia," he said, his voice low and stripped of all warmth. "What happened last night... it shouldn't have occurred that way."
I stayed silent, my breath catching.
"My wolf..." He finally looked back at me, his silver eyes full of a conflict I could almost feel. "He's not making this easy. He has... chosen you. But as a man, I am bound elsewhere. I cannot complete the mate bond. I already have a girlfriend."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. My heart ached, and I felt a lump forming in my throat.
Why am I feeling this? I only just met him last night. Why does my heart ache?
"If you already have a girlfriend, why did you choose me?" I asked, my voice barely audible.
"I didn't choose you," he said, his tone firm and frustratingly logical. "My wolf chose you. For ten years, he has rejected the woman I chose."
The air crackled with tension. He stood and walked around the desk, stopping a few feet away, his presence overwhelming not with threat, but with intensity.
"This bond my wolf insists on... it's a complication I didn't want," he said, his gaze piercing. "If this is to be more than a political arrangement, you'll have to prove to the man that you're worth defying everything for."
Before I could process this challenge, a sharp knock at the door shattered the moment.
Panic surged through me. I instinctively smoothed my dress, ensuring I was presentable, as Ace called out, "Enter."
The door opened to reveal a tall, handsome man with striking silver-and-orange hair and piercing orange eyes. He wore a dark suit adorned with gold embellishments, and a gold chain necklace glinted at his throat. His gaze flicked between Ace and me, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
"Oh, you must be Ovelia," he said, his voice warm and friendly. "It's wonderful to finally meet you alongside my younger brother."
Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This is Ray, my half-brother," he said, his tone tinged with annoyance.
Ray stepped into the room, reaching for a cookie from the tray. He took a bite, his eyes lighting up with delight. "These are incredible! The chefs here don't bake like this. You must be the talented baker, Ovelia." He paused, his gaze lingering on me. "Wait, it's getting late. Why are you still here? Isn't your wedding with Ace tonight?"
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I glanced at Ace, who looked equally stunned. We had both forgotten about the wedding.
"Thank you, Sir Ray," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I'll head to my room now, Ace."
Both men offered curt nods, and I slipped out of the office. As I closed the door behind me, I leaned against it, my heart racing. The memory of his words—prove to the man—lingered, and I felt a mixture of dread and determination bubbling inside me.
•Hallway•
As I made my way to my room, my mind was a whirlwind. Ace already had a girlfriend. Was I just a temporary obstacle? A political tool to be discarded once his wolf came to its senses?
"That won't happen," a voice whispered, sharp and clear in my mind. "His wolf will never accept the one he's already rejected. That prince's wolf is stubborn—he knows who he wants."
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. "Are you the black shadow from my dreams?" I whispered, my voice trembling. But the voice didn't respond, leaving me alone with my churning thoughts.
•Ace's Office•
[Ace's POV]
As Ovelia stepped out, I shot a glare at Ray. "Your timing is impeccable as always."
Ray just grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Why? Were you two having a thrilling discussion about fiscal policy?" he teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
I let out an exasperated sigh, sinking into my chair. My thoughts drifted to Ovelia, to the way she had stood there, absorbing my harsh words without breaking. My wolf stirred restlessly, pushing against my control, demanding I follow her. But the human part of me was a storm of duty, resentment, and a grudging respect for her resilience.
I forced myself to focus on the paperwork in front of me, but my mind was a battlefield. Tonight, we would be married, and the fragile neutrality we had just established would shatter. There would be no more room for hesitation. The game she didn't know she was playing had already begun.