Irina’s POV

"A teacher?" I repeated blankly.

My heavy frown deepened. I stared intently at the composed woman standing in the absolute center of my bedroom.

Nicholas actually sent me a private teacher. He didn’t come to see me himself. He didn’t apologize for his terrifying, suffocating outburst. He just sent a complete stranger into my room with a leather briefcase.

I instantly knew exactly what this was. It was his version of a compromise.

He absolutely refused to let me leave his heavily guarded territory. He completely refused to let me step foot onto a real college campus. He was far too terrified, far too wildly possessive to let me out of his sight. His paranoid Alpha brain couldn’t handle me being in the real world. Especially not while I was pregnant.

So, he brought the school directly to my bedroom.

A sharp flare of bitter anger sparked right in my chest. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want a private tutor. I wanted real freedom. I wanted to sit in a crowded classroom. I wanted to walk across a green campus. I wanted to be a completely normal girl, not a caged Queen.

I raised my chin stubbornly. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest.

"I don’t need a teacher," I said coldly. My voice was completely flat. "I appreciate the gesture, but you can leave. Please go back."

The woman didn’t look offended. She didn’t look angry. She didn’t even flinch.

Instead, she just offered me a soft, completely polite smile. She gently adjusted the thin, wire-rimmed glasses on her face.

"I am afraid I cannot do that, Luna," she said calmly.

"Why not?" I demanded. My tone was sharper now.

"Because the Alpha King gave me a very strict, specific task," she explained gently. "He ordered me to teach you. If I go back to him right now, entirely empty-handed after only two minutes, I will definitely be punished. He is not a man who accepts failure easily."

My harsh glare immediately faltered. My stomach dropped heavily.

I instantly thought about the terrified, shaking pack maids. I thought about how they literally ran out of my room just to avoid Nicholas’s wrath. I knew exactly how ruthless he could be. I knew how fiercely he punished his staff when they didn’t follow his absolute commands perfectly.

If I sent her away, Nicholas would completely destroy her career. Or worse.

I couldn’t do that. My heavy conscience violently protested against it. I could never let an innocent woman suffer just because I was angry at my mate.

I let out a very long, incredibly exhausted sigh. My rigid shoulders slightly dropped.

"Fine," I muttered softly. I rubbed my temples. I felt a massive headache slowly forming. "You can stay. But I don’t want to study anything today. You can just sit down. We can just... casually chat. Just until enough time passes so you don’t get in trouble."

Her warm smile grew just a tiny bit wider. "That sounds perfectly lovely."

She walked gracefully over to the small, plush sofa near the window. She set her heavy leather briefcase neatly on the floor. She sat down and crossed her legs. She looked entirely comfortable.

I sat back down in my armchair. I watched her carefully. I was still completely guarded.

Her dark eyes drifted across the large bedroom. They instantly landed on the beautiful wooden crib in the corner. Luka was still fast asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling peacefully.

"Your son is absolutely beautiful," the woman said softly. Her voice was genuinely warm. "How old is he?"

I stiffened slightly. My maternal instincts instantly went on high alert. "He is almost a year old."

"He looks very healthy," she noted gently. "Are you getting enough rest?"

"Yes," I answered shortly.

"It must be wonderful to spend your days with him," she continued, completely ignoring my harsh tone.

"It is," I said. My answers were deliberately short. I gave her absolutely nothing. I was giving her one-word replies. I just wanted the clock to tick faster.

The woman leaned slightly forward. She rested her hands neatly on her lap. "You know, the Alpha told me a little bit about your past. He mentioned that you were trying to get your degree before you came here. How did you manage to study with a newborn baby?"

That question caught me completely off guard.

I blinked in pure surprise. No one ever asked me about that. No one in this massive pack cared about my past struggles. They only cared that I was their Luna now.

I stared at her. The heavy, protective wall around my heart slightly cracked.

"It was... incredibly hard," I whispered. My voice was suddenly very soft.

The memories violently flooded my mind. The tiny, freezing apartment. The leaky sink. The constant, overwhelming exhaustion.

"I didn’t have any help," I continued slowly. My eyes drifted away from her, staring blankly out the large window. "I worked double shifts at a terrible diner just to pay for my textbooks. I would come home at midnight. My feet would be completely bleeding. But I couldn’t sleep."

The woman nodded slowly. She was listening entirely to me. Her dark eyes were completely focused on my face. She wasn’t judging me.

I took a deep breath. The words just started pouring out of my mouth. I couldn’t stop them. I was so incredibly starved for a real conversation.

"I used to hold Luka in my left arm," I said, a small, genuine smile pulling at my lips. "I would rock him back and forth to keep him quiet. With my right hand, I would highlight my history textbooks. I drank so much cheap, horrible coffee I thought my heart would physically explode. But I loved it. I absolutely loved learning. It was my only escape from the nightmare I was living in."

"History was your favorite subject?" she asked quickly.

"Yes," I nodded eagerly. My heart actually started beating faster. The sheer excitement of talking about something intellectual was completely overwhelming. "I was fascinated by the French Revolution. I read everything I could about it. I was writing a major paper on Marie Antoinette before... before my life completely changed. Her absolute ignorance of the starving people. The famous quote, ’Let them eat cake.’ It completely symbolized the total disconnect between the royalty and the poor."

The woman smiled warmly. But then, she slightly tilted her head.

"It is a fascinating era," she agreed smoothly. "However, you do know she never actually said that, right?"

I completely froze. I blinked rapidly. "Excuse me?"

"Marie Antoinette," the woman said calmly, her eyes sparkling with real intelligence. "She never said ’Let them eat cake.’ That is a massive historical misconception. The phrase was actually written by the philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau in his autobiography. He attributed it to a ’great princess.’ But he wrote that book when Marie Antoinette was only nine years old. She hadn’t even arrived in France yet."

My jaw physically dropped.

I stared at her in total, absolute shock.

For a few seconds, the room was completely silent. And then, a massive, brilliant spark violently ignited right in my brain.

She corrected me.

She didn’t nod blindly like the terrified maids. She didn’t cower in fear because I was the Alpha’s mate. She treated me like a real student. She treated me like an absolute equal. She engaged in a real, factual academic debate with me.

A huge, glowing wave of pure joy washed completely over my chest. My mind felt like a dark, dusty room that just had all its windows violently thrown open to the fresh air.

"I... I didn’t know that," I breathed out. A massive, bright smile broke completely across my face. "Rousseau? Really? How did the rumor attach to her?"

"Revolutionary propaganda," the woman answered easily. "The starving peasants needed a villain. The foreign Queen was the perfect, easy target. They printed the rumor in pamphlets to fuel the absolute rage of the lower class."

I leaned completely forward in my chair. I was absolutely hooked.

We talked for over an hour. We didn’t stop. I asked her a million questions. She answered every single one perfectly. She was incredibly brilliant. She challenged my thoughts. She made me think critically. I felt completely alive. For the first time in months, I wasn’t just a fragile mate or a pregnant vessel. I was Irina. I was a student.

Before I even realized it, the sky outside turned dark.

The woman gracefully checked her silver wristwatch. She slowly stood up from the sofa. She picked up her heavy leather briefcase.

"I am afraid my time is up for today," she said gently. "I should let you rest."

A sudden, sharp pang of pure loss violently hit my chest.

I didn’t want her to leave. I really didn’t. The thought of sitting in this massive, silent room all by myself again was completely terrifying. The dark isolation was already creeping back into the corners of my mind.

I quickly stood up. I walked her closely to the heavy oak door.

I nervously grabbed the edge of my soft sweater. I looked at her with wide, entirely hopeful eyes.

"Will you come again tomorrow?" I asked softly. My voice was incredibly fragile.

The woman stopped in the doorway. She turned around and gave me a brilliant, incredibly warm smile.

"Of course, if you are willing, my name is Eleanor."