Page 144 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
I stop short, my shoulders sagging in defeat. He’s sitting in what I’ve come to think of as “His Majesty’s Chair”—a cushioned seat he had a servant bring in three days ago when he decidedmy little, wooden chair wasn’t comfortable enough for his royal bones.
Luna is curled in his lap, purring like the content cat she is. The traitor.
“Your Majesty,” I say, dropping into what I hope is an acceptable curtsy. Lady Cordelia would probably find fault with it, but I’m too tired to care.
“Stop that ridiculous bobbing,” he says with a wave of his hand. “I asked what you’re doing.”
“I was going to check on the moonbell. The humidity has been affecting the blooming cycle, and—”
“Forget the flowers. Come here.”
I walk over slowly, wondering what new demand he’s going to make today. Yesterday, there were questions about my herb preparations. The day before, he insisted I explain the entire cultivation process for nightshade while he took notes.
“Sit,” he orders, gesturing to a second chair that definitely wasn’t here this morning.
I perch on the edge of the seat, my spine straight. Lady Cordelia’s voice echoes in my head: “A lady never slouches.”
“Now,” King Alaric says, fixing me with those sharp, gray eyes. “Tell me about your tutors.”
“They’re...thorough, Your Majesty.”
“That’s not what I asked. Are they making progress with you?”
I consider lying, telling him what he wants to hear. But something about his direct gaze makes honesty spill out instead.
“Lady Cordelia says I walk like a peasant and speak like an uneducated farm girl. Master Thorne thinks my accent in the Old Tongue is ‘appallingly provincial.’ Lady Penrose...Well, she hasn’t said anything directly insulting, but she keeps sighing every time I ask a question.”
King Alaric’s face darkens. “Is that so?”
“I’m sure they’re just trying to help,” I add quickly, not wanting to get anyone in trouble. “It’s a lot to learn, and I’m—I’m not exactly starting from an ideal position.”
“Hmm.” He strokes Luna’s fur thoughtfully. “And my son? How often do you see him?”
Heat creeps up my neck. “Not very often, Your Majesty.”
The truth is, I barely see Lucian at all anymore. He leaves before I wake up and returns long after I’ve gone to bed. The most I hear from him is when he thinks I’m asleep—the soft rustle of papers, the scratch of his quill, the quiet murmur of his voice when he talks to himself while he’s working.
I miss him. I miss him so much, it’s like a physical ache in my chest.
“He’s very busy,” I continue, trying to keep my voice neutral. “Important, princely duties.”
King Alaric snorts. “Princely duties. Is that what he calls avoiding his mate?”
Before I can respond to that pointed comment, King Alaric places Luna on the ground, stands up, and stretches. “Well,” he says, “I have matters to attend to. Come along, Luna.”
At the sound of her name, Luna immediately perks up and trots over to him like an obedient dog, winding around his legs with obvious affection.
She glances at me briefly, then back at King Alaric, and her choice is clear. She follows him toward the door without a backward look. I watch with a pang of betrayal as my cat chooses him over me with no hesitation.
“She’ll be back eventually,” King Alaric says with what might be amusement. “She seems to enjoy our afternoon walks through the palace.”
And then they’re gone, leaving me alone in the sanctuary that no longer feels like my own.
This has been happening every day for the past week. Luna, my one constant companion, completely abandons me for the King. They disappear together for hours, and when she finally returns, she’s usually well-fed and happy, clearly having had a far better time than she would have had staying with me.
It’s not just Lucian; even my cat doesn’t want to spend time with me.
I sink into my chair and stare at the moonbell plants, feeling utterly alone. The herbs don’t judge me or find me lacking, but they’re poor conversationalists.
