The Queen and her Wolf

Chapter Nineteen

My breath caught in my chest as my guardian rose to sit proudly on her haunches, dipping her massive head ever so slightly to allow Madeline to rest that delicate ring of Jasmine upon her crown. Knowing the fragile state of mind Alana had been in earlier tonight made me appreciate the kindness of the gesture.

"-for you are the Queen's wolf."

Echoes of agreed sentiment rippled through the crowd as Alana raised her head, silver fur shifting with the movement, to sit straight as an arrow beside me. Exactly what you would expect from a guardian on duty.

Poised and alert.

"You honour my guardian with your gift, my Lady."

"She's worth far more than my gift can convey, your Majesty. These are mere tokens to express the great hope we rest upon your respective shoulders."

"I simply hope that we can live up to your expectations."

"Im sure you will exceed them with ease," she said without hesitation. "I will leave you both with one final offer before I leave your hall. As an Elder I hold all kinds of knowledge pertaining to an array of subjects, if either of you ever find yourself in need, I am at your disposal." A veiled look in my direction had me checking that tickle in the back of my mind.

I'm not sure why guilt ate away at me for looking into Lycan heritage. Alana's heritage. Maybe it was because she'd been so forthcoming earlier. Confessing her lack of ties to the Dark Ridge Pack had been an olive branch of sorts; a stepping stone towards trust being built between us. Now here I was intentionally shutting her out and hiding things that she had every right to know. For now, I threw those thoughts to the back of my mind to deal with later as I bowed my head to Madeline, once again conveying my appreciation of her gifts, and watched her gracefully descend the dais steps and exit the hall.

The night dragged on as I continued to meet the people who had travelled to the castle to wish their new Queen and guardian well. My face hurt from smiling and pain lanced up my spine from sitting on the throne all night. Worse still, the faces of all these kind people began to blur together until a Quiet approached like a shadow, a goblet balanced artfully on a silver tray and offered me a brief respite.

A somewhat burly man stood before me explaining the arduous task of carving my she-wolf's likeness in stone, calloused hands running over the smooth surface as he did. It was incredibly detailed and almost as large as Alana herself. As exhausted as I was, I could only imagine how she was doing. She had to be drained but Alana had sat beside me all night, barely shifting from her post, except as she did now, to saunter off the dais and inspect a gift of tiding.

There wasn't a single eye in the hall that wasn't on my guardian. When she moved it was like poetry in motion. The way her muscles bunched and stretched, the shimmer of her pelt as she loped over to the man, the tilt of her head as she began to inspect the sculpture. Wolves hadn't lived amongst vampires for quite some time now and I wondered how many here had lived to see them roam the grounds. Based on the wonder in their stares I guessed not many.

The massive she-wolf circled the stone likeness, sniffing here or there, jade eyes roving over its surface, taking in every detail as if she herself were a master craftsman. The burly man, though shocked at her proximity, withstood her scrutiny of his work without complaint. Sipping from my goblet, almost sighing with relief as the rich liquid slid down my throat, I found myself simply watching her, drinking in her details as she drank in the details of the statue.

Alana came to stand before the man and offered a slow but deliberate bow of her head. Relief washed over his features and he ran a calloused hand through his dark curls.

"It seems that she approves of your labours," I declared as Alana circled the back of my throne to resume her position on my left. "Grayson, was it?"

"Yes, your Majesty," he answered, a slight blush spreading over his cheeks.

"Is stonemasonry a pursuit of joy or business for you?"

"I suppose it's both," Grayson replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I always enjoyed helping my pa when he worked on a commission, still do. At the end of the day though it is how I earn my keep, your Majesty."

"How long did this take you?" I asked, eyeing the life-size sculpture.

"Almost a full cycle of the moon, your Majesty, but I did have other commissions to attend to during that time."

"You must be a man of great patience and persistence, Grayson. How long do you think it would take if you didn't have distractions?"

Grayson tongued one of his fangs as he thought, "I suppose I could do it in half that time if it was my sole project."

"Well, seeing how much my guardian approves of your work I would like to commission more of these, if I may."

"My Queen," he baulked, eyes wide with disbelief. "It would be my absolute pleasure."

"Excellent," I replied, gesturing to my right, "speak with my advisor in your spare time and he can draw up a contract for your statues to adorn our battlements. I think two per parapet walkway should suffice. Samuel will go over all the necessary details with you to ensure fair payment for your work."

Grayson bowed lower than any other today as he conveyed his gratitude. Repeatedly. Leaving the hall with a vigour that my weary body envied. A wolfish sigh beside me told me that Alana mirrored my sentiment.

Samuels voice rang out once more.

"Introducing her Majesty to Eric Vale, Captain of the Northern Hunter Faction, here to pay homage to you and your guardian."

A low growl rumbled beside me and my head snapped to the vampire swaggering toward my throne. The crimson garb of the Hunters adorned his muscled body and the ebony dress cloak swayed with every arrogant step. Before he could reach the top step, Alana's lip twitched. Subtle enough that the onlookers below wouldn't catch it, but Eric did. He rocked back casually as if he always intended on sweeping into a kneel before my throne. He did not touch the top step.

Keeping a vice-like grip on the arm of my throne I asked, "what brings you to my hall tonight, Captain?"

"I have come to pay homage to you and your guardian, my Queen." Eric kept his tone light and respectful as he fisted a hand over his heart, the Hunter Faction sigil of two crossed daggers glistened beside his hand. "It is also my intention to make amends to your guardian for the disrespect I paid her upon arrival in your court."

I fought the urge to snarl at the word disrespect. To describe his treatment of Alana with such a simplistic word was an insult. Running a tongue over my fangs I called upon every drop of energy I had left and focused on channelling it into some semblance of civility. Eric was playing his part in this political dance, I would do my best to follow the script. Especially with so many witnesses.

"How do you intend to make penance for your...disrespect?" I asked mildly.

Rising, Eric reached into a leather pouch at his hip and retrieved a small box from within, no bigger than the palm of my hand. "I would like to offer this gift to your guardian as repentance for my transgressions against her, and by extension, you, your Majesty."

He knelt again but kept his hands, and the box, outstretched. I was keenly aware of the she-wolf beside me, rigid from snout to tail, my throne still vibrating with a silent rumble. To save Alana from the ordeal of entering his space I rose to retrieve the small box. A slight tremor shook the Hunter's hands as I relieved him of his gift, perhaps he was remembering where my own had been during our last interaction. Returning to my throne, arranging my coattails to sit comfortably, I held the box up for the she-wolf to inspect. Eric lifted his rusty eyes from the floor but another twitch of Alana's lip had his body rooted to the spot.

Confident that the Hunter would remain in place the she-wolf lowered her own eyes to the unadorned box, sniffing it cautiously. A question formed in my mind.

Are you ready?

Those jade eyes bore into mine. She blinked once, slowly. Resigned.

Gripping the box gently, I lifted the lid with a soft click. Inside was a beautiful silver necklace, slightly aged but still in good condition, and a crescent moon made of the same silver cradled an opalescent stone to make up the pendant.

"I present this pendant, my Queen," Eric said, still kneeling on the dais steps, "a pendant believed to have belonged to Isis herself. The first she-wolf."