Chapter 173

“I keep my commitments, Annabelle,” Caleb says. “You have nothing to worry about, and these tears are unnecessary.”

I don’t wait around to hear anymore. My heart is already breaking.

Turning on my heel, I dash back into the palace, not slowing until I reach my bedroom. I want to be alone as I start to fall apart.

No one but me should know of this shame, this humiliation. How can I continue to think to Caleb as mine when he has thoroughly given himself to another?

“If that’s true,” Annabelle sniffs dramatically, “then you should be more involved in the decorating. A marriage is a process, and you are skipping all of the parts.”

Caleb has no idea how this woman thinks their marriage would be anything like that between two people in love. While Annabelle is fine enough, Caleb has never made any secret that this marriage is entirely political. Why would Annabelle think he cares about any of this?

Why should he need to pretend like he does? He’s marrying her. She will be Luna. Why is that not enough? She wants to waste his time, too?

“I am Alpha King,” Caleb says, his patience already wearing thin. “I have other more important duties to attend to.”

“More important than marrying me?”

“I will attend the wedding.”

“That’s not the same!” Her voice rises, though she quickly covers her mouth like she didn’t mean it to. “Forgive me. I’m just so passionate about this. I want this marriage to be perfect, and I don’t know how it can be if you are already not willing to put the effort in.”

She’s manipulating him, Caleb can see it. She must have thought he was born yesterday to fall for such obvious attempts. He is king. People attempt to manipulate him all the time. Why would she possibly think she would succeed where others have failed?

Perhaps it is because of her femininity that she feels herself impervious to his judgement. Or she is already taking advantage of her station as the Alpha King’s betrothed.

If she acts this troublesome and demanding as merely his fiancé, how would she act as his wife? Would she finally calm down and busy herself with her own life, or will everything just get worse?

“Ours isn’t a marriage of love,” Caleb says. “You cannot expect me to bend to your every whim like a lovesick fool.”

She straightens slightly, as if my straightforward words shock her. I’d be surprised if she didn’t see them coming, however.

“As Alpha King, I hardly have the time for such trivialities. As my wife, I would expect that you would take care of things as mundane as this, so that I can focus on more important tasks.”

“Like taking a nap in the garden,” she says sharply. She doesn’t even pretend she didn’t mean to be so harsh this time. Instead, she just glares at Caleb, as if he doesn’t have the power and authority to remove her head from her shoulders simply for speaking to him like this.

But, he forces himself to grip onto his patience. He sent Harper away because he did not need her to be present to calm him down. He could not break that trust she had in him, in his reaching out if he needs her, just so he can lash out at this overly dramatic woman.

Harper wouldn’t behave like this. She isn’t without her own outbursts, but typically they came with good reasons. Even when they didn’t, he still found those situations much more tolerable than this.

Being with Harper, in general, is leagues more pleasant than being with Annabelle.

It’s such a stark difference that Caleb immediately wishes he was with Harper instead. He’d rather be fighting with Harper than talking nicely to Annabelle.

Caleb wonders if Annabelle had been the one to be with him on that farm, if they would have even lasted a week. Harper, meanwhile, kept them both alive and even content. Sometimes, in his dreams, Caleb would return to that little farmhouse, his arms around Harper in that small bed. The windows would be open, the fresh breeze drifting through the room.

He tries to imagine the same vision but with Annabelle instead of Harper, but his stomach twists like he might be sick.

Why haven’t you complimented by decorations? the Annabelle of his imagination says. Where’s dinner? Who’s making it? You expect me to do it? Wait, you want me to farm? I am not getting my nails dirty.

Caleb’s face hardens, grim.

This is the life he is attaching himself too, forever.

Looking at Annabelle, he tries to see her better features. She’s pretty enough. She knows how to act formally at parties and with the court.

As his wife, does she need to do more than that?

Does he even have to like her at all?

In his dream, holding Harper in the farmhouse, they wear matching rings on their fingers and each other’s bite mark on their neck.

In reality, he would have to do the same with Annabelle.

“I may be marrying a King,” Annabelle says, “But I expect a husband.”

She expected too much.

Later, as evening creeps in, I go for a walk to clear my head. I avoid the courtyard, even though Caleb and Annabelle are likely long gone by now, but head to the gardens instead. I’ve always found some measure of peace among the beautiful flowers, and this evening is no exception.

My thoughts are in turmoil, my heart breaking. I just feel so… powerless.

The man I love is going to marry someone else and there is nothing I can do about it. No amount of pleading could talk him out of it. I’d only embarrass myself if I tried.

I’ve already given him my reasoning for not wanting to share him, but he just doesn’t understand. Maybe because he’s been born into this life, it’s difficult for him to see things from any other way.

Still, I wish he could.

Shaking my head, I know it’s futile.

As I stop to smell the roses, I hear voices nearby.

I recognize the King’s advisors.

“He wants to bring commoners to the court? Has he lost his mind?”

“He’s been losing his mind for years. This might be the last straw.”

“Even if you could argue for the idea ethically, which I’m not saying we can, how will we ever convince the nobility that it’s a good idea to allow commoners to walk beside them? They will never go along with it.”

“Well, we have to think of something. We only have until tomorrow to either talk him out of it or have a plan ready to put it in action.”

A quiet falls over the group.

I inch closer, trying to see them through the brush. Caleb wants to allow commoners in the court? Did our trip beyond the capital walls truly make such an impression on him?

“I blame that consort of his, Harper.”

“This definitely reeks of her influence.”

“She was a commoner, wasn’t she? And then a slave? Her whispers are too far in our King’s ear.”

“She’s his favored. What can we do about it?”

“We have to make the King see the dangers of her influence. He’s getting married, anyway. It is past time he cut off that whore.”