YENAIt had been weeks since I’d drawn anything. Once I started again, I couldn’t stop.Maybe it wasn’t ideal to be doing schoolwork on our honeymoon. But it felt like Nolan had faith in me. In my talent.And I wanted to live up to his expectations. Come up with something great that showcased my talent.I stayed up late every night drawing, drafting designs of the same garments over and over again, tweaking and perfecting them.We traveled like tourists, making occasional stops on our way across the country to see the sights. The prince made sure we went to all the art galleries and museums. I knew that was for my sake, though he never pointed it out.Some of the exhibitions we saw were mind-blowing. I had never seen work in these mediums before. It was inspiring.Looking at paintings, photographs, and installations made by human artists, I suddenly came to understand just how small my world had been before.The werewolf nation was an older society, with a single dominant culture that
Nolan got Yena a glass of water and excused himself. The bar was nearly empty. He paced away to a corner out of anyone’s earshot and glanced around to be sure he was quite alone. He called his secretary and told him about the photograph. The secretary confirmed, first, what Luna had already told the prince. That Adan had indeed returned home. But the secretary had some even more interesting information, too. Adan was supposedly beginning a new career in education. And had just taken a position as a professor at the Werewolf Noble Academy. Nolan looked at Yena from across the room. She was patting her damp eyes dry with a bar napkin. She was very sweet. And very naïve. He had a bad feeling about all of this.#YENA For whatever reason, Nolan went to the bar and threw back two shots of whiskey before we left the tavern. We’d only gone in for a few drinks. Supposedly. Back at the hotel, I took a lo
YENA It made more sense to work on my project in the palace than in the studio at school, so I set myself up at a big table in the parlor down the hall from our bedroom. Rafaela happened upon me there the next afternoon when she came in to clean.She was amazed, walking around and touching the fabrics I had draped over the chairs and chaise lounges. I was drawing at a small table, and had drafts scattered all around me on the floor. “We cannot have this,” she said, shaking her head.Soon, a small army of servants crowded the parlor, hauling out most of the furniture. One nearly pulled a chair right out from under me.They pinned my drawings to tufted bulletin boards they installed on the walls, and staged a big, polished oak desk under the window.&nbs
We went back to our dining room together. My half-eaten meal had been cleared from the table and replaced with a fresh spread of food. If Nolan wanted to talk, he wasn’t in a hurry. Or he wanted to be sure all the servants, now rushing around to pour us steaming cups of coffee and fill our plates with offerings, were out of the room before he reprimanded me. Finally we were alone in the room and he said, “That was impressive back there.”I relaxed immediately. “Really? You think I did the right thing?”He took a big drink of his coffee, put the cup down then turned his body toward me. I put the forkful of pancake that I’d been about to eat back down on the plate.He took my hand in his and gave me a little smile. “Really. It was brave and took a lot of character, and confidence.”“I didn’t embarrass y
YENA I woke up in the dark, being carried in someone’s arms. I was so startled I nearly leapt straight up out of them. “You’re alright,” Nolan whispered, holding me tightly. “You fell asleep at your desk. I’m taking you to bed.” I felt a little pang of embarrassment, thinking about my weight. But it seemed like I hardly weighed anything in his strong arms.In the bedroom, he laid me down gently on our satin sheets. I rested my head on the pillow. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been snoozing in my studio, but I was still half asleep, feeling like I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I was wearing a light dress, something casual I liked to work in. Nolan put his hands on my legs and ran them upward, touching me all over and p
“What are you doing here?” Susan demanded.“Signing up for the contest, same as you,” I said.“I meant,” she snapped, “why are you signing up? You don’t belong here.”She was keeping her voice quiet enough that the judges weren’t paying us much notice, but the other students in line had all turned to watch our argument. “I belong here as much as you do, Susan. You, or anyone else in the school,” I said. “Seriously?” she asked. “You’re really going to do this, Yena? You’re going to fit yourself into a winning design and model on a catwalk?” “Yes,” I replied. “Why is that so hard to believe?” Susan shook her head.“I’m warning you,” she
The prince locked his office door behind him.He went to his desk and opened his email. Ignoring the hundreds of unread messages in his inbox, he scrolled down to an archive folder labeled For Emergencies.The folder was empty except for a single, unsent email draft. The subject line was blank and there was no text in the body. The only bit of information was an email address saved in the recipient field. Nolan double-clicked the email draft to open it, typed a very quick message into the body, and hit Send. In another corner of the prince’s office, a leather armchair and a coffee table faced a grand stone fireplace that was currently cold and empty. Nolan went over and retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the table. He took it with him around the corner, to the narrow library that adjoined the office. In the library,
Lucy and I chatted about our studies as we drove to her house.She told me she was a sophomore and a painter, studying Fine Art and Philosophy. I told her about my dream of becoming a designer someday, and about the contest I had signed up for that morning.I didn’t expect her to be so thrilled about that. She gushed, telling me how much she admired my plan to make high-end plus-size designs.“The world needs you to do that,” she said, seeming awfully confident in my abilities, considering that we had just met less than an hour ago. “There are so many beautiful clothes out there, but not enough of them are available in our sizes.”“We’ll see,” I said, shrugging.“No,” Lucy demanded. “You’re going to do this. You’re going to win this competition, and you’re going to get famous, too — I know it.”She was wide-eyed and super serious.“Yo