The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 15: Royal Claims

Yeren walked into his grand library. The guards closed the door behind him. The smell of old books and decades-old candle wax filled the elegantly furnished room. He headed straight for the wine decanter, hoping the wine would distract him. But as he poured himself a glass, he found he had no interest in the drink.

He opened the doors that led to the parapets. The rain was still falling, needling his scalp as he stood overlooking the parts of Reden he could see.

He heard the main doors open. The footsteps drew near, stopping a few feet behind him. Yeren didn’t have to look to know who it was - the only man bold enough to meddle in his affairs. Andon.

"Your Grace-."

"Don’t."

Yeren knew exactly what the man wanted to say.

"I wasn’t going to say anything."

Liar.

"Did you bring any news then?"

Silence seated over them. From Andon’s hesitation, it wasn’t good news. His hands twitched as he waited. The raindrops were icy, but not cold enough to cool him.

"She was punished."

The words were heavy, holding a deeper meaning he knew would be unpleasant. "Because of you," Yeren knew Andon wanted to add. Instead, he gazed up at the sky, refusing to give him the satisfaction of his full attention.

"How was she punished?" he asked, as if enquiring a report about livestock.

He could hear the other man sucking a deep breath. "I should reserve the rest to myself. It would do you no good to hear it, Your Grace."

Yeren spun around, his wet hair flipping in the wind. "I want to hear all of it."

Andon gulped. "As you anticipated, she was punished for..."

"Being seen with me." He completed.

The other man moved closer. "I was informed that she was beaten till she bled and asked to strip before male and female servants alike."

Yeren drew in a long, steady breath. "I was counting on him being rash, but he has crossed the line."

"So did you, Your Grace."

His brow furrowed in confusion as he stared at the only man in his kingdom who talked to him with so much audacity. Almost as much as Miss Stenly did. "What line did I cross, Andon?" His voice was low, almost a whisper.

"You kissed her even when you knew the consequences."

"It was part of my plan." He lied. Partially, he had acted out of reason - with a need he could never understand.

"Was it?"

His shoulders straightened. "Stop questioning my motives."

Andon wasn’t ready to drop the argument. "Even if she dies tonight? Was that part of your plan?"

"She won’t die. She’s too valuable to her uncle for him to be careless with her."

Andon scoffed. "How are you so sure? Her sister almost did."

Yeren’s gaze met his. He took it as permission to continue.

"The vile man has taken the little girl away. Miss Stenly is on the verge of madness, or worse, suicide."

His jaw hardened.

"If the sister isn’t dead, she won’t harm herself. She’s too smart to do that."

"Stop treating her like an object of trade, Your Grace. Whatever gamble you take, she loses a piece of herself. She’s never going to come to you willingly."

"She would, when she has nowhere else to run to."

"When she’s broken, both in mind and spirit?"

Yeren ran a hand through his hair. Rain splattered over stone, drenching him further. He inhaled the rich night air. "She’ll only come to me if she has nowhere else to turn to."

He heard Andon’s sharp intake of breath. Was there someone else?

"You’re not her last resort. From all I’ve heard, she’s in love with a peasant boy."

Yeren leaned over the parapet once more, his jaw tightening. "Not yet."

The other man came closer. "What do you intend to do about the boy?"

He wiped the droplets off his face. "Nothing. Sooner or later, she will realize that he cannot protect her."

Andon cleared his throat. "So when do you intend to act?"

He looked down at the large courtyard below.

Yeren didn’t know the answer to that question. Interfering in Jarren’s personal matters may escalate if not handled properly. And the bloody man has more pride than a peacock. If he spread rumors in the right ears, he could turn the entire council against him. And the whole were-council was a force to be reckoned with.

"Also, Your Grace, your current cupbearer has been removed from the position. He was found to have been interacting privately with the Greyhounds on several occasions."

Yeren barely heard him. "You have my gratitude."

"I do not want your gratitude, Your Grace. I swore to protect you, and far be it from me to leave you in peril. Many people want you dead, because you refuse to align with their goals. Might I suggest that you move to the palace in Glenwood and stay until the bloodlust has abated?" 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

His grip on the stone tightened. "I have never run away from a problem, and I won’t start now. Besides, Miss Stenly is still in need of my assistance. Leaving the capital for those hounds will only give them more power over the kingdom."

The other man moved to the other end of the parapets. "But you have no air, Your Grace. If anything happens to you-"

"My uncle Casmere will take the throne. I will hear no more from you. Leave me."

Andon bowed hesitantly and left him wordlessly.

He could glimpse the sliver of the moon in the dark sky above.

What had he done? Why had he kissed her? That had not been part of the plan.

He had always acted with reason - which made his impulsive behavior strange to him. That was why she was so certain he wanted a pound of flesh in return.

Was it so impossible that he wanted nothing from her? Part of him had always felt guilty at the way her father had been executed. He felt the need to protect the daughter of the man he had beheaded falsely.

But that kiss ruined everything. He wanted her, yes, but he wanted her to come to him. And now she was suffering because of him.

His stomach knotted. What if her uncle raped her? Would he be able to save her? And truthfully, Claire Stenly was the only girl he knew who would pick a peasant boy over a King.

Gritting his teeth, he turned and went into the library. Water dripped, leaving a decorous trail behind him. His attendant rushed forward and draped a warm cloak around him. An open letter laid on the table before him.

He leaned forward and picked it up. It was the invitation to their engagement. She had pointedly asked him not to come. She even begged. Miss Stenly had stooped to beg. Why had she begged? Was it fear of her uncle’s wrath if he spoke to her or something else? What other reason could there be?

He ran his hands over the fresh parchment. It would be publicly noted if he refused to attend. People might even attach dark meanings to his absence at the engagement of a peer of a realm. "Forgive me, Claire." He muttered under his breath.

—

The following morning was bright and sunny despite the wet grounds. All the hall windows were wide open. Andon and ten guards stood by the door waiting for him. His attendant clasped his lycan brooch on his garment - the last thing he always wore.

He stepped down from the stool and walked gracefully to where they awaited him. He towered over everyone standing before him. They all bowed, Andon at the lead.

"Your grace, the council awaits."

He nodded and preceded them to the grand hall.

Everyone was already seated. Lord Falstaff, Lord Redmare, Lord Moonstone, Lord Rodick, Lord Plumette, Lord Bronan. Six council members in all.

He took the high-backed chair at the head of the table. The chair was decorated with the lycan crest of his family. All the members stood as he took his seat, each bowing in turn. Andon took his place at the corner of the room.

"May I thank you for gracing my son’s engagement the day before, Your Grace? It was an honor to my family." Lord Rodick said.

An honor indeed, Yeren thought. He picked up the feather quill before him and spun it in his fingers. A curt nod was his only response.

"Your Grace, the Rogues have been apprehended, but many humans in the outer cities were killed. Justice is being demanded by the free folk."

A death sentence passed around the table before reaching Yeren. He only glanced at it once before signing it and stamping it with his seal.

The next council member to speak was Lord Moonstone. It was a well-known fact that Lord Moonstone was a good friend of Lord Straught.

’Your Grace, since the execution of Lord Stenly, his lands were seized by the crown and have remained dormant still now. All I ask is that you lift the charter so that the lands will be passed down to the family that weds either of the Stenly girls. If not, fertile land will be left to rot."

Yeren smoothed his hand over the feathers of the quill. His shoulders had stiffened at the mention of the Stenly family.

"Of what concern is this matter to you?" He simply asked.

The man attempted to stutter a response, colouring instantly when no words came forth.

"Your Grace, Redmare volunteered. "I agree with Moonstone. It would be more productive if the land hands down to the bride’s family. The crown has no use for the land."

Yeren leaned back on his chair. He wanted to ask for a goblet of wine to be poured for him, only to realize that his cupbearer was no longer in service.

Rodick took the initiative and poured him a measured amount of wine. He nodded at the man as he took a sip of the wine.

"Why speak on his behalf? I should think that the family that intends to wed either of the Stenly girls should be able to make an appeal to the crown by themselves." He said in a tone that discouraged further discussion concerning the topic.

Lord Falstaff took the floor. "Permit me to say, Your Grace, there have been many rumours claiming your interest with the older Stenly girl."

Yeren set his goblet on the polished table. "And what are you implying?"

The man gulped. "That people may take your refusal to lift the charter as a sign that you have designs on the wolfless girl, if I may be so bold to say so, Your Grace."

His eyes flicked over all six men.

"In all I said, did I refuse the offer? I only said that Jarren Straught should come to me himself."

Moonstone cleared his throat. "Yes, Your Grace. But the man solicited my favour. He begged that I speak to you. The lands are too vast to waste away."

Knowing that the matter would never rest, he finally decided to give his consent. He had adjourned the signing and sealing of the agreement till after the girl was married.

Except, he was not planning on letting Miss Stenly marry into such a family.

After the meeting, Andon joined him at the portcullis.

"I was not expecting you to yield so easily, Your Grace." Andon muttered behind him. Yeren let the cool morning breeze dance with his hair.

"I did not yield."

Andon inched closer. "Pardon, your grace?"

"Miss Stenly is not getting married. I’ll make sure of that."

A sly grin played on the other man’s lips. "So what do you want me to do about her?"

Yeren pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it, turning it over in his finger. It belonged to his father.

"Her uncle has half of my council backing his cause. Refusing their offer would be insensible. We have to be even more careful now."

Andon nodded.

"I should pay the man a visit this afternoon. We will take her with us, willing or not."

"So soon? Would it not appear suspicious?"

Yeren paused, glancing up at the blue cloudless sky. "It would, but I don’t care."

His voice was calm and cold, his eyes hard.

A gasp escaped Andon. He was not used to seeing his king put anything before the kingdom.

"I stopped caring the day I met her."