Chapter 75

“About what?” I ask, feigning innocence, as I keep my eye on the room full of Alphas at Samuel’s back. Now is the worst possible time to try to have a private conversation. Even talking to me at all puts Samuel at risk.

And me, too, if Caleb believes we are somehow plotting against him.

Yet, before Samuel can say a word, and before I can whisper-yell at him to go away, Tristan walks up beside us and gruffly tells Samuel, “I wasn’t aware you have been given permission to speak to any of the King’s harem without supervision.”

Samuel pales slightly, yet he still faces Tristan. Maybe he feels like he has some authority here, an Alpha over a Beta. If so, with regret, he’s about to be disappointed. Tristan may be a Beta, but he is the King’s Beta. As far as Caleb and the rest of the capital is concerned, Tristan is second only to the King himself.

For Samuel not to notice shows his ignorance of capital politics. I can’t blame him exactly, as these are things I also had to learn after arriving here. Our little pack feels so far removed from the harsh realities of this place.

But Samuel, as Alpha of our pack, should be more observant and more careful. Just like trying to meet me last night, this show of dominance is another reckless action.

Samuel straightens his posture in a posturing sort of way that Alphas do when they expect or want the person they are talking with to submit. Maybe back home, this sort of thing might have worked.

Tristan just stares blankly at Samuel, entirely unaffected.

“Do you have something to say, or do you mean to continue trying to assert dominance over me?” Tristan asks blandly. “A maneuver that will not work, by the way. You have exactly zero power in this place.”

“I am an Alpha,” Samuel says.

“Are you?” Tristan replies. “Compared to our King, you seem a frightened child.”

Samuel turns toward him more fully, like he’s about to throw hands. Behind him, I see the guards take notice and start to move closer.

If I don’t do something, Samuel is liable to end up in a dungeon cell tonight.

“Samuel,” I tell him. “Things are different here than in Riverwood. The rules are different…”

When Samuel glances at me, considering my words, I nod to the guards moving toward him. When he spots them, he immediately loosens the tension from his shoulders, calming down some of his aggression.

“The King’s Beta is not to be intimidated by anyone other than the King,” I say gently.

“Just as the King’s harem is not to be spoken to unless direct permission is given,” Tristan replies. “Now that you are educated, please return to the others, or I will be forced to have you removed from this Hall and possibly this council.”

Taking orders from a Beta mustn’t sit right with an Alpha. Samuel’s face twists with disgust and annoyance. Still, after one more glance at me, he ambles off to rejoin the rest of the group. Again, they move away from him, treating him as an outcast.

My heart aches for him. It’s a steep learning curve, moving from our home to this place, where everything is so different and much harsher.

Forcing myself to glance away, I look to Tristan, who returns to his outpost beside me. “You arrived back here so quickly, I’m starting to feel watched.”

“You are in the king’s capital, of course you are being watched. And that you are a person of suspicion only makes the surveillance more exhaustive.”

“Why would I be a person of suspicion?” I ask.

“You are still hiding the location of the child,” Tristan says. “King Caleb may have been kinder to you as of late, but he, nor I, have forgotten what you’ve done.”

“There isn’t any child,” I tell him, just as I have a hundred times before. I’m starting to feel like a record-player, saying it on a loop. I’ll say it a thousand times if I have to, yet even that likely wouldn’t be enough to convince them.

“Regardless,” Tristan says. “It would be wise to stay away from that Alpha you admire so dearly. The King has been generous, allowing him here, even while he suspects you and he are plotting against him.”

“I have no intention of plotting against the King,” I say.

“Then tell us the location of the child.”

I sigh. It’s like talking to a broken record sometimes.

“A secret rendezvous with Alpha Samuel could easily lead to his untimely death, Alpha or no,” Tristan says. The way he talks about it, so casual while discussing murder, makes my skin crawl. Being near Tristan so much as made me complacent. He’s truly just as dangerous as the King is.

At least, I suppose, he’s giving me a warning. It’s one that I’ll take to heart.

“I understand,” I say.

“Good,” he replies and doesn’t speak to me again.

After the meeting, when I’m dismissed, I slowly make my way back to the harem wing and my bedroom. Outside my door, Gwen and her cronies have taken root, standing in a half-circle blocking my door.

I have my knife in the pocket of my dress. I remove it now, so that they see, but I keep the cap on. None of the other girls appear armed. I highly doubt Gwen goes anywhere without a dagger, however.

“I had a most interesting conversation with your… sister…” Gwen says. She’s smirking viciously, while her eyes are cold. “Though it’s my understanding that Leah hates her ties to you. Almost as much as she hates you in general.”

“I don’t care what you or my sister think about me,” I tell her. “Stand aside and let me enter my room.”

“I won’t be ordered around by the likes of you. Leah told me what you are, a woman of loose virtue, giving it up to the first Alpha that rolled through town.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I snap despite myself. I need to stay calm. She’s only trying to rile me up, and by bringing up these past traumas, it’s difficult to remain cool. Her plans to upset me could easily work.

“Ah, yes. Leah says that you thought you were drugged,” Gwen says. The other girls snicker. “Like anyone would have had to drug you. You are so brazen, even with the King, it’s not shocking that you would be that way with some random male.”

I’m only brazen with the King because he forces me to be. Saying that won’t save me here, though, so I bottle that retort.

“Need I remind you why any of us are here?” I ask. “We serve the King in his bed. That is our primary duty. None of us are saints.”

“I’ve only ever been with the King,” says one of the girls.

“Me, too,” says another.

“See, Harlot? You remain the odd one out,” Gwen says.

“I’m not,” I tell them. It’s none of their business, not really. But I know of exactly one surefire way to put these girls right in their place.

And that’s by telling the truth of that night.

“You had sex with a random man,” Gwen accuses.

“That random man was the King,” I reply.