Chapter 6 : Packing

Ayda's POV

"I think you should wait," Nicolette was sitting on my bed, folding my clothes to pack away in my suitcase as I gathered Gus' toys to put into my baby bag. She wore a white nightgown, curly hair—free of the confines of the regulation chignon—cascading around her shoulders in a most becoming way.

She stroked at a green summer gown I was fond of, one of the last presents I'd received from my family before my banishment. "It's dark, and the driver has already gone home for the night."

"I'll be fine."

We both knew that the moment I uttered those words, it was a lie, but what else could I say? The moment with the prince had pried open memories I'd rather have left behind at Emerald Lake. Of another Alpha from beyond my father's mountains, of gunmetal gray hair and lurid eyes like Hephaestus' flames.

I couldn't suppress the shiver that racked my body, still feeling Alpha Alaric's course fingers around my neck. Tonight was just a reminder that no Alpha was truly safe, and I'd been a fool to think Prince Sebastian was different.

Marisa took Gus' bag from me, collecting the rest of his things when I failed to pick up his teddy for the fourth time. I sat down heavily next to Nicolette, the brunette giving me a side hug peppered with heartfelt consolation.

It shamed me into saying that I was too rattled to function properly.

"I could wake up Darius to bring the horses around," Marisa ran a hand through short shorn locks. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind, sweet as he is. Never thought I'd find myself agreeing with the old buzzard, but thank the Moon Goddesses High Alpha Kostas is still weary over horseless carriages!"

"I still think you should stay," Nicolette pressed timidly. "There have been talks of a lot of highwaymen on the roads between here and Eventide as of late, and I'd rather you not chance such an encounter in your…state."

I appreciated her delicate phrasing.

"Fine. I'm fine."

"You're really not," Marisa sat down next to me on my left, putting her head on my shoulder in solidarity. "You should stop acting like a hard ass, have a good cry, and then really consider your options. It's not just you who's going to be cast out tonight."

I couldn't help but look at August at that moment.

Nestled as he was in a navy romper, knitted blanket swathing him, Gus looked at peace in his makeshift crib. Narcissa still hadn't ordered his crib, and I doubt she ever would, so I had to make do with the bottom drawer of my dresser.

His bassinet was down in the laundry room for cleaning, and I was almost tempted to leave it to avoid crossing paths with His Highness for the unforeseeable future. I didn't relish leaving such a necessary object, but we'd made do with worse.

I'm sure neither Nicolette nor Marisa would object to me taking the laundry basket, which is what I'd been using in Eventide before Giselle gave me the bassinet.

My heart ached about going back to Eventide City.

Henrietta had sold the building now that there wasn't an unmated mother squatting in the attic studio. When last we talked, she mentioned retiring out west to the Sapphire Steppe to be with her grandson and his mate.

The new landlord—Alister Worth—was hardly an option. I'd only met the greasy git when my cab to the castle had arrived. Mr. Worth had claimed he hated seeing such a beautiful woman leave but wouldn't mind allowing me to stay if I should take up his offer of "companionship."

I wasn't quite sure if he did mean it in the strictly platonic sense of companionship that some older wolves took when most of their pack had died. Such quasi-kinship was welcome to combat PMSD and other bond-based disorders, but I did not think him among them.

For one, he did show signs of memory loss or bouts of madness like most did. Second, I didn't like the way his piggy eyes roamed over my body. Likely, he'd only take me back unless I did something completely out of my moral character, and no place was worth that.

I wracked my brain for other options.

Giselle could try and house me in her little studio above the shop; I doubted Mr. Worth would bother her for risk of angering the venomous python she kept. Still, as good an idea as that was, it was a lot to ask of her.

I knew Giselle wouldn't mind and that she would give me my position back at the salon with open arms, but I wouldn't know how long I'd be staying with her. It could be a couple of days; it could be upwards of a year with the type of stigma being a single mother brought. A stigma, which would be forced upon her, should I decide to live with her.

Which left Regina as my last possible choice. Regina thought I was a killjoy, thanks to the status of motherhood. I sincerely doubt that she would lend me that spare bedroom of hers. Not when she turned such a tidy profit when she rented it out to working girls around the neighborhood.

Emerald Lake was closed to me.

And thus, I had nowhere to go.

"Ayda?" Marisa said, lifting her head in concern.

I ignored her, digging into the pockets of my skirt. I pulled out the small coin purse I owned, dumping the contents on what little space I had left on the bed.

There was less than four hundred Orichalcum to my name.

The offer of a million would only be presented to me after the wedding, Narcissa had explained when she went over the contract. Breaking the terms of our agreement meant that I would miss out on the money, which meant that not only did I not have enough for a proper tribute, but now I didn't have enough to even contemplate getting a new apartment.

I was financially worse off than when I'd first been banished.

'But, the money would be enough tribute for one little baby,' my mind sinisterly whispered. 'Just August and August alone.'

It was the possibility I'd feared most. The one that would destroy me to make, but make it I would do. It wasn't unheard of to be a mateless mother, just frowned upon heavily by society, but that didn't mean I was the only one or the number even that rare.

Pups were a welcome addition to any pack. A newer generation meant longevity, a way of enduring when the elders had passed on to be with the Moon Goddess. Customs and traditions were passed down; stories became legends, became fairy tales for bedtime.

So when a woman strayed, got herself heavy with child, and the sire was nowhere to be found, The Changeling Act was passed. For the small sum of three hundred Orichalcum, a child would be taken into the pack; no questions asked, no parental ties taken. I would not seek to find which pack adopted him;

I was not to seek my son later on.

I would never see my son again.

"Ayda? You've been quiet for a minute," Nicolette petted my hair, trying to calm me. "Goddess! You're shaking like a leaf."

Crying felt like the only thing I could do.

"Ayda!" I collapsed on Nicolette, sobbing into her shoulder, my heart breaking.

Giving him to another pack was all I could do. I was going to be homeless. That was no life for my son to have! Not Gus, not my innocent boy. It wasn't his fault that he had a worthless wretch for a mother. He deserved better than this.

"I tried," I sob into Nicolette's nightgown front. "I tried so hard to make it right."

"Oh, Ayda. It's alright. I'm sure we can think of—"

There was a pounding on the chamber door, a commotion outside in the servants' hall. Nicolette and Marisa looked at each other, a conversation I was not privy to warring between their eyes.

Marisa sighed heavily, scratching at her short fiery scruff, before grabbing my borrowed tea kettle off the table. She weighed it in one hand, testing how it felt when she struck, and hid it behind her back as she opened the door.

Darius the stable hand flew backward about two yards from my door, glasses broken on his dazed face. He looked as though he'd been kicked by a horse.

"Go back inside," Darius slurred at Marisa thickly, trying to adjust his spectacles in a way for him to see through the cracks. "He's rather upset, but we don't know why. I've never seen him like this before!"

I didn't need Darius to clarify who it could be.

I hastily grabbed August, bolting towards the back of my room where a small window lay. Gus fussed, irritated to have been woken up in such a way, and voices his discontent blubbering wails loud enough to wake the dead. There was shouting outside, heated tones of male voices, and one woman who I recognized as Maud. Nicolette rushed to me, cradling me through my worry as Marisa took a defensive position wedged between the door and the bed, kettle over her head.

The shouting intensified before it went eerily quiet.

August mouthed at my breast, and without much thought, I opened my shirt front for my son.

"Marisa," Nicolette dared not raise her voice above a hiss, eyes locked on the door. "Perhaps we should lock it, just in case—"

She never got to finish the sentence as the door swung open to reveal Prince Sebastian in all his glory. He looked a disheveled mess, hairy, free of any of the pomades he used to slick it back, shift front unbutton almost to his navel. He was still wearing the snug Jodhpurs and riding boots from earlier. In the dim light of my bedroom, coppery undertones to his hair and olive skin made him hauntingly beautiful. Like a warrior of old, done in marble and gold, laid to rest at a temple.

Despite how he'd hurt me earlier, physically and otherwise, there was such a pang in my breast to go with him, a strange pull to smooth the wrinkles in his brow, kiss the fear I could see shimmering in his eyes.

He steeled himself, taking stock of everyone and everything. Marisa dropped the teapot as if it had scalded her. When he glanced at August, amber gaze turning to gold, I pressed myself further into the corner of the room.

"Please," I pressed August to my breast, a flush brightening my cheeks at being caught in such an intimate matter. "I know I haven't left yet, but it's with good reason. It's—" Prince Sebastian stalked closer. "It's night, and the roads are dangerous. I was just about finished packing until you arrived, Your Highness. Please—"

He was close, close enough that I began to panic. "Sire! Please! Do not take my son away from me."

I did not expect him to lower himself to the ground, paralleling my kowtowing earlier.

"I would never," Prince Sebastian began before he saw Nicolette staring from my side. He turned a stunning shade of scarlet before he coughed in the crook of his arm. "Ah, you there, Nicolette. If you would please leave Ayda and me a bit of privacy. We have…much to discuss."

"Of course, Your Highness." Nicolette bowed. "Come on, Marisa, let's leave."

"Are you sure? Well, alright, but you," Marisa flicked a finger at Sebastian. "You so much as lay a hand on this woman's head, and I will personally report you to a constabulary. It won't get you in trouble, but it will kill any faith that you have in quelling the people."

"Marisa! That's treason!"

"It's not if he's no longer around."

If looks could kill, Prince Sebastian would be dead a million times over. I expected him to snarl, the half-berserker Alpha from earlier this evening.

But all he did was snort.

"You have my word; I will not harm Miss Sabine this night nor any other."

Marisa pointed at him with her fingers forked after pointing at her own eyes, flicking the gesture back and forth as if to say, "I'm watching you." Nicolette stammered, horrified at the blatant disregard for decorum (and proper life choices), and shoved Marisa through the door before she offended the man.

Alone again.

"Is he," Prince Sebastian coughed again, at a loss of where to look, resting on his knees before me with a straight back. "Is the lad alright?"

He lamely gestured to Gus, who was still latched onto my breast, suckling away.

I didn't know what to make of this interaction, I was so thrown by his behavior.

I recalled earlier my concerns that he was mad like his father, and my suspicions only grew.

"Gus is fine," I said gingerly, the way one might talk around a spooked horse.

"I'm fine. We'll both be fine. Again, I'd like to apologize for—"

"Please, be quiet." My teeth clicked together as I warily waited for him to shift into the beast I knew him to be. I couldn't stifle my sniffling, and I prayed he wouldn't strike me for it. "My—shit, this is not like how I'd rehearsed—look I—you've not seen me at my best—I apologize. For everything. For the way I treated you, spoke to you, and am still speaking to you—"

He sighed, agitated, rubbing the bridge of his fine nose.

"It's quite alright." It wasn't, but I wanted him gone. I was confused and exhausted after a full day of working with my lady and her sisters. My arm hurt from where he'd grabbed me, and I could tell Alaric would haunt my dreams tonight, should I even get to sleep. "Your Highness, you need not explain—"

"But, I want to!" He blurted mortification. "I've been a proper asshole, and you deserve to know why. I've treated you most unfairly, my lady, and for that, you deserve my utmost apologies. That bi—Narcissa, my fiancé, did not seek my counsel when she hired you. Something she ought to have done, considering how much she has been spending as of late. That bothered me, but that is not the brunt of the matter. Rather, she took money away from what was supposed to be my brother's first memorial anniversary to hire you on."

"Does she hate you?" The thought that Narcissa could stoop to that low of a level with a man she was set to marry shocked me. I knew she didn't love him, but her blow almost seemed personal now. "Did you do something to her?"

"Not be my brother for starters," Prince Sebastian chuckled mirthlessly, and my chest hurt with the admission. "But that's neither here nor there. I was already upset once I became privy to that information, but then to have Galanis call you a spy—"

"What?"

"Yes, well," Sebastian said, as he ran a finger along the grain of my wooden floors, tracing whorls in the patterns. Shamefaced. "The man did reveal to me that the title was only given to you in jest. A poor joke, as I still suspect that my brother may have very well been assassinated."

"And it made you worry…"

I wasn't blind; High Alpha Kostas was in poor health, and anyone could see

that. If there was ever an opportunity to assassinate the man, what better time than during a wedding, where so many strangers dallied in the castle in the guise of well-meaning new hires and distant relatives?

Suddenly, the pieces clicked together, and his ire made all the more sense. He was only trying to protect his father, maybe even himself, and with the anniversary of his brother's death coming up—

I didn't know what possessed me to hug him.

Maybe it was because I wasn't the type to hold grudges. Maybe it was because I empathized with his misconceptions and fears. Maybe it was the way I wanted to kiss him, thank him for the moment of vulnerability he shared with me.

But I hugged him, resting Gus on my hip as I dragged the prince to me, the fingers of my dominant hand resting on his nape. Prince Sebastian's arms came up to support me, more on instinct than with intent. We sat like that for a moment, clutched to each other until he began to pull back.

He was so close then I could see the stray freckle he had near his left tear duct. The way his eyelashes lowered made his amber eyes smolder, drawing my eyes naturally down to the stubble of his angular jawline. The inviting plush of his bottom lip. How would it taste, I wondered?

His hand found my face, his course thumb sweeping crescents along the apple of my cheek, and I leaned into him. His hand slid lower, the pad of his thumb gently coaxing my lips to part. His other hand slid from the back of my bodice, cupping at my—

We both jerked away from each other, and I blushed, hastily trying to re-button my blouse.

He rose with a shaky breath, helping me up as I swept dust from my skirt. He shyly glanced at me from the corner of his eye, likely to check if I was decent, though I did notice he looked me up and down quite a few times. More than was necessary. Unless…?

Gus giggled at the pair of us, clapping little hands gaily. Sebastian looked at my son, eyes softening for a moment before he reached out and tousled Gus' hair.

Domesticity looked good upon the prince, and I couldn't help the scandalized thought of what he'd be with children of his own. The scandal was how much the imagined daughter looked like me and not Narcissa. Curse you, brain!

I covered my face, willing my thoughts to be normal for once, and made the mistake of looking at Sebastian at the same moment he looked up from my son.

There was that familiar pull to him, that electricity that set my body alight with longing.

"I—" Sebastian bowed, formal and rigid. As if we hadn't almost kissed. "Again, Ayda, I apologize for my behavior. Ignore what I said about your termination. Expect a fourth of the pay in two days' time to make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you. Have a good night to you and your son."

And, straightening his spine once more, Prince Sebastian took his leave.