Trapped with the Alpha King-Chapter 245: Already Chosen You

“Yes,” Althea sincerely replied. “You’ve given up so much for me. Time. Your kingdom. Your peace. And I’m afraid I’m holding you back.”

At that, his hand at her waist tightened just a little.

“Never say that again,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You are not a burden. You never were.”

She swallowed. “But—”

He leaned down slightly, his forehead almost touching hers. “I stayed because I chose to. Because I wanted to. Because being here with you mattered more than anything else at that moment.”

Her breath trembled.

“And it still does,” he added.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, slowly, Gavriel released her waist, though his hand lingered just long enough for her to feel the warmth of his touch fade.

“You should rest a bit more,” he said, his tone gentler now. “Today will be long.”

She nodded, still a little dazed. “You too.”

As she turned and walked toward the bedchamber this time, he did not stop her. But her heart kept racing long after she lay down, and she knew one thing with absolute certainty.

Whatever memories she had lost, whatever pieces of the past were missing, the bond between them was real. And it was growing stronger with every passing moment.

*****

A few moments later, warm steam curled through the chamber as Melva poured another ladle of water into the wide bathing tub. The surface rippled gently, carrying floating petals of pale roses and moon lilies that released a soft, calming fragrance into the air. The scent was soothing, clean, and faintly sweet, wrapping the room in comfort.

Althea stepped closer, her bare feet touching the smooth stone floor. She paused when the warmth reached her skin, letting out a quiet sigh.

“It smells... wonderful,” she murmured.

Melva smiled as she dipped her fingers into the water, testing the temperature. “Special soap,” she said proudly. “Infused with mountain herbs and flower oil. The King personally asked for it to be prepared for you.”

Althea’s cheeks warmed at that. “He did?”

“Yes,” Melva replied as she helped Althea step into the tub. “He wanted you to feel relaxed today. No tension. No pain. Just peace.”

The water embraced Althea, easing the tightness from her muscles. Melva carefully poured the fragrant water over her shoulders, washing her hair gently, massaging the soap into her scalp with tender care. Petals clung to Althea’s skin before drifting away again.

For a while, they remained quiet, the soft sound of water filling the space between them.

Then Melva cleared her throat, clearly trying to sound casual. “So...” she began, eyes fixed on the water. “Did the King say anything about tonight?”

Althea blinked. “Tonight?”

Melva glanced at her. “About... sleeping arrangements.”

Althea froze for half a heartbeat before her face turned bright red. “Melva!”

“What?” Melva laughed lightly. “I’m just asking.”

Althea lowered her gaze, fiddling with a floating petal. “He didn’t mention anything. I think... he’s hesitating.”

“Hesitating?” Melva echoed.

Althea nodded, her voice softer. “He told me he would wait. That he doesn’t want to pressure me while my memories are still... incomplete.”

Melva stared at her, then burst out laughing. “Wait. You mean to tell me you’re really going to make the King wait?”

Althea’s blush deepened. “I’m not making him do anything!”

“But what if it takes a long time?” Melva pressed, teasing but honest. “What if your memories come back slowly? Or not at all?”

Althea opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure.

Melva sighed and crouched beside the tub, her tone gentler now. “My Lady... you’ll be married today. It’s natural. You love each other. And he clearly wants you.”

Althea’s fingers tightened around the edge of the tub. “I know. I just... don’t want to hurt him if I can’t give him everything yet.”

Melva reached out and squeezed her hand. “You’re not hurting him by being honest. And you’re not wrong for wanting time. But don’t underestimate him either. He’s already chosen you.”

Althea swallowed, emotion flickering across her face.

“And besides,” Melva added with a playful grin, “I doubt he’ll complain if you decide not to make him wait.”

Althea groaned softly and covered her face. “Seriously.”

Melva laughed again and stood, helping her rinse off. “I only know one thing. Whatever you decide, he’ll still look at you like you’re the only thing that matters.”

Althea lowered her hands, her expression soft and thoughtful as the steam continued to rise around them.

Melva helped her with her gown and Althea stood quietly in the center of the chamber with her breath caught in her throat as she stared at her reflection.

The gown draped over her body as if it had been made with her measurements in mind, every line and curve fitting her perfectly.

Soft fabric flowed down her frame, light as air, catching the glow of the lanterns and reflecting it in subtle shades that made her look almost unreal. Delicate embroidery traced the bodice, elegant and restrained, yet unmistakably regal.

She lifted her hands slightly, fingers brushing the fabric in disbelief.

“It... fits,” she murmured. “Perfectly.”

Behind her, Melva let out a shaky laugh, already wiping at her eyes. “Of course it does.”

Althea turned to her. “But how? I never had fittings. I never even saw this dress before today.”

Melva stepped closer, her smile trembling as she adjusted the gown at Althea’s shoulders. “The King had it prepared long ago.”

Althea froze. “Long ago?”

Melva nodded, her eyes glistening. “He ordered it before everything happened. Before the war. Before... before you fell unconscious.” Her voice cracked slightly, but she continued.

“He brought it with us during the journey. Said it didn’t matter how long it took. He believed you would wake up.”

Althea felt something warm tighten in her chest.

“He had faith,” Melva went on softly. “Faith that you would open your eyes again. Faith that you would stand here today.”

Althea swallowed hard, emotion rising too quickly for her.

Melva reached for her hairbrush and began to gently comb through Althea’s hair, her movements careful, almost reverent. She gathered the strands, fixing them into place with practiced hands, though her fingers trembled.

“You look so beautiful,” Melva whispered. “So magnificent.” Her voice broke, and a tear slid down her cheek.