Chapter Twenty

A few days later, Drakken was in his study with George when he watched Eleanor through the back window, taking out dead flowers under the hot sun. The palace’s garden was just below his study and he liked the view whenever he wanted a break from work.

Today’s view came with his human mate, who for some reason, he couldn't get his eyes off from. She was dressed in a stifling overall black dress with an apron around her neck and a hoe on her right hand without any bonnet on. Then she scrubbed at her face fervently perhaps to wipe sweat, then she mumbled something to herself, presumably muttering obscenities in his name. He could not blame her.

"Are you listening to me?" he heard George say, his eyes still unmoving.

"I wish I was not," Drakken replied. "You are talking gibberish."

"How then, pray tell, do you intend to handle this situation if you do not announce Eleanor as your rightful mate?"

Drakken was tired of hearing the same thing over and over again. But he would remind them ev