Heart of the Wolf Prince

Chapter Three

I stare at the carriage with teary eyes. It's elegant – made from cedarwood and iron, with two open entryways that reveal the velvet-lined interior. A driver sits at the head, holding the leads of two white stallions who snort and stomp impatiently. I don't make eye contact with the driver as I walk towards the coach. Instead, I throw my rucksack onto the plush purple seat then toss myself in soon after.

I can't even recall the events of the past thirty-six hours. It's been a blur of crying, packing, and crying some more. Now my temples throb, and my eyes are so red they look like the insides of an oyster. Not one person came to say goodbye – well, aside from Sarah, who'd been by my side the entire time. She'd offered me words of encouragement, like how working at the Gahndor palace is seen as an honour and every maid's dream. How being a maid isn't all that terrible and can even be rewarding at times.

I'd tuned her out. She doesn't understand. I am a noble. I am not supposed to be at the whims of others, waiting for commands as they come. It wasn't the life I was made for, but, then again, maybe it's all I'm good for. If Mother can't even picture me being wedded off to a smaller noble house to bear children, then I suppose I have no real purpose left. Maybe it really is the only good thing I have going for me.

I clench my fists in my lap, staring at them with an intensity to bore holes as the carriage kicks into motion. Though I can't help but feel bitter about Mother's decision, I still wish she'd at least come by to say goodbye. Apparently, though, I'm not even worth that.

Then again, with how I'd spoken to her, maybe I deserved a cold goodbye.

I glance out the carriage doorway, towards our family estate. I stare towards the stone pillars, towards the marble staircase and polished granite walls. The windows burn like amber in the morning sunlight, glimmering like gems amid a silver band.

I swallow the tightness in my throat. This is probably the last time I will ever see it.

I push out a deep breath and stare for a few moments longer. Then, I look away, my chest aching. I feel like I might cry again, but I push my tears down. I am being taken to a new life now, and this life does not involve the presence of my family. In this life, I am wholly alone.

I quickly become accustomed to the bumps and jerks of the carriage, along with the rhythmic clops of hooves against sun-baked dirt. Despite everything, I take comfort in the fact that the ride will not be a long one. With Agnarys' territory, Hestenia, being so close to Gahndor, the ride shouldn't be much longer than a few hours. In fact, we're one of the closest territories to Gahndor. In Raelia, every noble house owns a territory that they govern and protect. My eldest brother, Jason, will take over the responsibilities of Hestenia once Mother and Father are unable to see their duties through. Still, though we technically own this territory, every piece of land is ruled by Gahndor. That's just how it is.

As we trundle along, I find myself staring out the doorway. I watch as the forest trees turn into stone-clad cities, where werewolves meander about pop-up stalls and wooden taverns. Thankfully, aside from the few odd stares here and there, no one recognises me. As we venture further out into the land – away from the estate, away from my old life – the wealthy city infrastructure is replaced by wooden huts and plaster tents. The people who mill about the dirt paths are dressed mostly in rags and shabby clothes, with only the odd merchant being adorned in rich furs and expensive materials.

Human towns. I don't pass through them often, but when I do, they always spark a certain curiosity in me. Humans have always lived in harmony with us werewolves. While we perform the higher order jobs – doctors, lawyers, scientists – they stick to physical labour and agriculture. They provide us with resources, and, in return, we give them protection. From what? No one knows. Rumor has it that, thousands of years ago, humans and werewolves had a common enemy that forced them together. Whatever that enemy was, though, no longer exists, but the social structure was too solid to break down. So, it simply remained this way.