Chapter 64: Chapter 64: An Appropriate Mate

Estelle’s POV

“Crystal,” Benedict said. He nodded graciously, a lazy smile still on his face. However, it was all too easy to see the anger that burned in his eyes.

“Wonderful.” I walked past him toward the door. “In that case, I’ll keep you updated on my progress. I’m sure you’re eager to see the results.”

I paused with my hand on the doorknob and looked back at him.

“Oh, and Benedict? Thank you for bringing this to my attention. It’s helpful to know exactly what I’m working with.”

He laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. “We’ll see how confident you are in a week’s time, dear sister.”

“Indeed, we will.”

I left him standing in my office, still gripping the back of my chair. As I walked down the hallway, I could already feel my mind working through strategies and solutions.

Benedict thought he’d trapped me, but he’d actually done me a favor. He’d given me a concrete way to prove my worth to the council, and he’d underestimated my capabilities in the process.

This was the chance I needed to prove to the council that my father’s decision was right. Even if I wasn’t raised in Blackmoon, I was still the top choice as his successor.

Not Benedict.

***

Third POV

“Your Majesty,” Aldric began, his weathered hands folded on the table surface. “We must address the matter of your upcoming union.”

Zayne sat at the head of the long obsidian table. He had his eyes buried in the papers. If he had a say in it, this was a pointless meeting. He had better things to do than listen to these old men croak about his marriage.

Unfortunately, the council had made it very clear that this was an issue of utmost importance. As the Lycan King, Zayne needed an heir. For every day that he did not produce one, these elders would continue to pressure him as though he were some breeding stud.

Zayne’s pen stopped moving across the paper he’d been reviewing. He didn’t look up.

Elder Councilman Aldric cleared his throat pointedly. Only then did Zayne look up, his gaze lazily sweeping across the various councilmen seated around the table.

“The summit concluded nearly a week ago,” continued Councilwoman Vera from her seat to Zayne’s right. “The eligible candidates from the most prominent packs were presented. Yet we’ve heard no official announcement.”

“Patience, Councilwoman,” Zayne replied, his voice cool and detached as usual. “Important decisions require careful consideration. I am picking my mate and the future queen, not a basketful of vegetables from the wet market.”

Aldric leaned forward slightly. “Your Majesty, with respect, this decision appeared to have already been made. Your dance with Lady Rosalind was noted by every attendee. The Vurbont family has been preparing for the engagement announcement. Even among the werewolves, rumors of you choosing the Vurbont heiress have been circulating.”

Zayne finally looked up from his documents, his gaze sweeping across the assembled council members. Several of them shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“Have they indeed?”

“The bloodline compatibility has already been confirmed,” added Councilman Barnaby. “Lady Rosalind’s lycan heritage is impeccable. Her family’s political connections would strengthen our position considerably.”

“And she’s quite taken with you, Your Majesty,” Vera added with what might have been intended as an encouraging smile. “The attraction appears to be mutual, given your selection of her as your dance partner.”

Zayne set down his pen. The soft click echoed in the vast chamber.

“You seem to have interpreted a great deal from a single dance,” he said. He looked up, his electric blue eyes landing on Aldric, then Vera. “Especially since you people were the ones who heavily insisted I kick off the dance with a lycan nobility rather than a werewolf. I thought the summit was to show our partnership and understanding with the werewolves?”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. The council members exchanged glances.

“Your Majesty,” Aldric said carefully, “forgive our presumption. But the lycan bloodline must continue. The kingdom requires stability, and that stability comes through a proper union with an appropriate mate. Your first dance will heavily insinuate whether or not you choose a lycan or a werewolf as a bride—”

“An appropriate mate,” Zayne repeated, his tone giving nothing away.

“Yes,” Barnaby said, gaining confidence. “Lady Rosalind represents everything we could hope for in a Lycan Queen. Breeding, education, political acumen—”

“She’s also vapid, entitled, and has the strategic thinking of a particularly dim house cat.”

The blunt assessment left several council members looking genuinely shocked.

Vera recovered first. “Your Majesty, perhaps... perhaps you need more time to get to know Lady Rosalind better. Marriages of state often begin with practical considerations rather than personal preference.”

A vein in Zayne’s forehead ticked with irritation. Day in and day out, these old farts had nothing better to do with their lives than to scheme about his marriage. Zayne knew that they had a preference for the Vurbont heiress, but he would very much rather die alone than choose that woman as his mate.

It would be as good as dooming the lycan civilization.

“An appropriate mate will be who the Moon Goddess has chosen for me,” he said.

That quickly shut the council members up. They looked at each other, unable to come up with a reply. After all, publicly denying someone the right to bond with their fated mate was basically as good as spitting in the Moon Goddess’s face. Even few parents would deny their children a proper fated union.

“Gentlemen. Ladies.” He surveyed the table once more, his expression unreadable. “I appreciate your concern for the continuation of our bloodline and the stability of our kingdom. I assure you that I am actively handling the matter.”

Hope flickered across several faces.