Page 51 of Asking Fur Trouble

“...growing petition,” Kynon was saying, his tone sympathetic yet somehow predatory. “These are turbulent times for the territory.”

Bess shifted on the settee, straining to hear more. Nya prattled on about fashion trends and social events, but Bess only half-listened, mumbling occasional responses.

“Your Majesty,” Kynon’s voice carried clearer now, “you’re still young. Do you truly want to be shackled by duty when there’s so much life to experience? The crown is a burden few are prepared to bear.”

Bess’s stomach clenched. Was Kynon suggesting what she thought he was?

“What exactly are you proposing, Kynon?” Charov’s voice had gone dangerously quiet.

“Simply that perhaps stepping aside voluntarily would be more... dignified. The petition has nearly enough signatures to force a hearing before King Alyx. I would, of course, be honored to shoulder the responsibility in your stead.”

Bess’s breath caught. This was a coup happening in real time, disguised as friendly concern. She waited for Charov’s roar of outrage, for his bear to emerge in righteous anger.

Instead, his voice came calm and measured. “It’s something to consider.”

The teacup nearly slipped from Bess’s fingers. Was he serious? After everything his father had wanted for him was Charov actually entertaining the idea of abandoning his birthright?

Bess finished the last sip of her purple tea with Nya Nuele, setting the delicate cup down with hands that trembled slightly. She’d been straining to hear more of the conversation happening behind those partially closed doors, but the men’s voices had lowered to indistinguishable murmurs.

THIRTY-FIVE

When Charov finally emerged from the room with Kynon at his side, Bess saw something in his expression that sent a chill through her—a distance that hadn’t been there before. Even as they exchanged polite good-byes with the Nueles, Charov’s normally expressive face had turned to granite, his jaw set in hard lines.

The silence in the hovercraft was stifling as they soared back toward the castle, Nova Aurora’s rolling landscape blurring beneath them. Bess couldn’t bear it anymore.

“What did Kynon want?” she asked, twisting her fingers in her lap.

Charov’s powerful hands gripped the controls, his signet ring catching the light. For a moment, she thought he might not answer.

“He thinks I should step down willingly,” he finally said, his voice flat. “Give up my birthright.”

“And you’re considering it?”

“The man has a point.” His eyes remained fixed on the horizon, refusing to meet hers. “I still have a lot of life to live, more experiences to chase. Maybe the crown isn’t for me.”

Bess stared at his profile in disbelief. “But your father?—”

“Besides,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “Kynon and Nya are a strong couple, established in the community. While I...” His voice hardened. “I don’t even have a queen. The kingdom is unstable with just me. The one I truly want to be my queen didn’t even bother to answer after I proposed.”

The accusation stung, heating Bess’s cheeks. “That’s not fair. I was just?—”

“Scared? Overwhelmed?” Charov cut her off, his knuckles whitening on the controls. “I don’t need explanations, Bess. I’m a big boy. I just would appreciate it if you’d let me know if you’re deciding to leave Nova Aurora. That’s all I ask.”

Bess fought the tightness in her throat. “I promise I will talk to you before leaving, if that’s what I decide.”

The rest of the journey passed in suffocating silence. Bess watched his profile, the tightness in his strong jawline, the slight flare of his nostrils with each controlled breath. The bear shifter who had swept her off her feet now seemed unreachable, locked away behind walls of pride and hurt.

When they landed at the castle, Charov disembarked with fluid, powerful movements that reminded her just how physically imposing he was. He extended a hand to help her down—ever the gentleman, even when angry—but dropped it the moment her feet touched the ground.

“I’ll be in my study for the rest of the day,” he said, already turning away. “I need to be alone.”

Bess stood frozen, watching his broad shoulders disappear through the castle doors. The sting of rejection burned in her chest, hot tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. She had messed up royally, both figuratively and literally. The man who had offered her his heart, his kingdom, and his future had interpreted her silence as the ultimate rejection.

As she made her way back to her suite, Bess fought to keep her composure, nodding politely to servants who passed by. Only when her door closed behind her did she allow the first tear to fall, sliding down her cheek and landing on the intricate carpet beneath her feet.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she whispered, pressing her palms against her eyes. How could she have frozen like that? And now he was actually considering giving up his throne—his birthright and his father’s legacy—all because of her.

Bess paced her suite like a caged animal, her eyes now bright with determination. The thought of Charov giving up his throne because of her made her stomach knot with a mix of guilt and something fiercer, more protective. She had messed up by freezing during his proposal, but by the stars of Nova Aurora, she wasn’t going to let him throw away everything his father had worked for.

---