Chapter 3 Louise POV

3

Our last conversations were boring, as our parents entertained us during our walk to the main dining room. We passed the wall of glass that could show our land, which was always covered in snow, never disturbing the lives of others who commonly went on their merry way to then return to us again. Around our land, as it did for the other three rulers, were the villages of the Vargr. They were wolves that couldn't shift. They were always kept under watchful eyes, as my father warned prior; now he bragged of the power we would be holding, for the Vargr could create havoc at inappropriate times. I feared my father might be delusional.

Arriving at the dining room, Irvan assisted me to my seat, pleased with the arrangements for our circumstances. He was indeed a gentleman when his ego was not with him. Eating our dinner in a blink of an eye, I heard Ivan shout, mortified at what had come to happen to him. I was still not pleased by his natural nature, yet looking up at him, he stared at the pear. He had dinked his fangs in his hand, directing his concentration from my sight to the pear. His front two fangs were holding on to the pear for dear life.

My utilities had been dropped. Holding my modesty was proving to be the main challenge. Irvan's clothes started to become covered in his blood, and his low growl had earned him a good lecture. I kept chewing slowly on my meal, for I had no desire to harm him. His parents had done an excellent job of ridiculing him. Irvan had enough of his evening as he hit the table. "IRVAN!" His mother scolds, but the amusement within me warmed my rattled heart; perhaps my upbringing will prove a better husband could be suited for me.

He stood, dripping blood from where his old fangs had been. Finishing my meal, I carried on my theatrical tale of the devoted fiancée. Placing my hand on my lips, I allowed my eyes to water from the laughter within, yet I spoke in a broken vow, "My Irvan, how has this become of you? Should I assist you to the doctor?" I cried from laughter, yet no laughter was laced in my words. I moved our parents as if I had broken my heart from his inflicted pain. In truth, I couldn't have loved him more.

"Save your theatricals, Lady Louise! You hide your laughter behind shameful words of fake affection! My fangs!" A wolf's fangs only leave their host when their wolf is to be reunited with them; a change is to happen to their bodies shortly after. This was no laughing matter, yet Itvan had failed to realize such things. Having had enough, his mother held him by the ear, pulling him away. She scolded, "You disgraceful child! Have you no shame for your wife-to-be? Have I taught you nothing?" She shouted as she stomped her way to the clinic.

The rest of the table manners were resumed as the room became more tranquil, and the council elder began to speak to my father on my behalf. A woman must never speak out of place, always after, and accept what the man insists she can state, like a book they can read, but I cannot. While enjoying my meal, I heard their exchange of words.

"That young lad has a fire in him; quite the temper for a young King to have, and it would be a shame if his own Queen outmatched him. Mind you now; you hold a shared title for a King Irwin; make no fool of my daughter; her time as Queen will bring us to triumph against those who oppose us, but you are from the long line of Marquesses; have you been reminded of your loyalty?" Father clarified for him. After finishing my meal, I remained in waiting. "Yes, King Legolas, have no fears of my involvements; my son is to learn better obedience shortly," he replied sharply at my father. His words had me parched with knowledge. "May I speak, father?" I innocently asked my father, who growled at Irwin, the marquess, if my parents wanted the twins of the Duke.

Duke Jaxx and Duke Jaxton were the devil's howling dogs, monsters of one pure mind. Guinness was destroyed but gained the complete favor of four small kingdoms from the marquesses. I, a nearly ten-year-old, could never compare to the devils of just twelve. By far, all who dared cross them suffered even after their afterlife, as the rumors state. All at the expense of their boredom. This monarch was built to ensure success would be bestowed upon the chosen. I had the only direct royal bloodline. Because the mother could not bear any more children, the father denied further attempts to produce an heir.

After a short time, Irwin Marquess submitted to his father in obedience, displaying his neck. His father replied, "You may speak, my child." I smiled, knowing how I could demolish the competition. A lady who wants to be Queen must never falter in taking charge. Within my posture, I requested, "If it pleases Father, perhaps an invitation to have the twin Dukes of our neighboring country come to be Irvin's mentors?" Father retrieved his composure yet welcomed my suggestion with an attentive, prideful smile: "See what I told you, marquess? Already thinking like a Queen. My sweet Louise, your request is granted; you shall also join the fruits of this brilliant advice, messenger!" Father shouts, and our messenger arrives to take Father's words as fast as the air can bring the snowflakes.