The grand ballroom glittered like a treasure vault as a hundred princesses and noble ladies swirled across the marble floor, each hoping to catch the eye of Alpha King Bastion. Hala, meanwhile, was on her hands and knees, scrubbing furiously at a champagne stain. She had no title or power to offer. She was a maid, a common wolf from conquered lands, destined only to clean up after nervous princesses while they were swept away to the dance floor.
“Three more hours,” Hala muttered to herself. “Just three more hours until this circus ends. ”
She sat back on her heels, blowing a stray copper curl from her face as her gaze traveled across the ballroom to where her king moved from woman to woman. His smile never faltered, his attention seemingly genuine until the moment he moved on to the next.
That was just Bastion’s way—fickle in his attentions and generous with his charm. A deadly combination for a royal. As if sensing Hala’s scrutiny, the king’s gaze suddenly locked with hers across the crowded ballroom, and he winked, one corner of his mouth lifting. Hala scowled in response.
She was entirely immune to his charms, or more importantly, entirely devoted to looking immune to his charms, which was far more achievable. As if being an alpha wasn’t enough, Bastion had to be devastatingly handsome, too, and had half the female wolf shifters in seven kingdoms sighing over him. Tonight wasn’t just any royal ball. It was specifically orchestrated for him to choose a bride.
His advisers had finally put their collective foot down. They were thoroughly tired of his playboy ways, and not merely because they wanted an heir to secure the bloodline. The diplomatic incidents that followed the king’s habit of seducing noble daughters had become a genuine political concern. Well, Hala thought bitterly, his terrible reputation hasn’t stopped a hundred princesses from attending tonight.
Perhaps it was his vast, prosperous kingdom that drew them. Or perhaps it was those perfect dimples that appeared when he smiled. Hala wouldn’t know. She absolutely did not notice things like that, just like she didn’t notice how his laugh made something warm unfurl in her chest.
Hala cursed under her breath as a passing nobleman nearly stepped on her hand. His scent, rancid with arrogance, hit her before his shadow did. “Is there a reason you’re in my way, girl? ” the noble asked coldly.
“To better lick your boots, sir. Why else? ” Hala replied sweetly. The nobleman’s face darkened with anger.
“How dare you—”
A shadow fell over them both, and the man’s face suddenly drained of color. Hala didn’t need to turn around to know exactly who stood behind her. “Lord Kellen,” Bastion’s voice was silk over steel. “I believe the Emberwood delegation is looking for you.
”
The nobleman retreated without another word, and Hala would have considered thanking Bastion for getting rid of him if he hadn’t been the cause of the original problem. “Enjoying your evening, freckles? ” the king asked smoothly, stepping into her line of vision. Hala pointedly ignored him.
He absolutely hated being ignored. It drove him insane. “That stain coming off as you’d hoped? ” Bastion persisted.
As Hala continued her silence, she saw movement from the corner of her eye, and the next thing she knew, red wine was pooling on the floor beside her. She looked up to see Bastion pointedly emptying his glass onto the floor. “Oh, how clumsy of me,” he said with an unrepentant grin. “Don’t you have other people you can torture?
” Hala finally snapped. “Like one of the gazillion ladies who came all this way just to entertain you? ”
“They’re just not as fun as you,” Bastion protested. “I mean, I can hardly ask them to clean up after me, can I?
”
“Yet you can hardly keep your hands off them either,” Hala muttered. His eyes immediately gleamed with interest. “And does that bother you, freckles? ”
“The only thing that bothers me is having to see it,” she said instead.
“Well, for someone who hates seeing it, you stand there gaping for an awfully long time whenever it happens,” Bastion teased. “One might think you were enjoying the show. ”
Hala flushed hot with embarrassment. “I do not enjoy watching you—”
“Your Majesty,” a voice interrupted.
A noble, Lady Elaine from Westhold, appeared at Bastion’s side, practically thrusting a crystal goblet into his hands. “Please allow me to fetch you another drink,” she purred. Hala gaped at the woman, shocked by her utter lack of dignity. Bastion had sent her packing three months ago without so much as a proper goodbye.
Yet here she was at his beck and call like an eager puppy. Hala would never debase herself like that for any man, alpha king or not. “Freckles,” Bastion said, his eyes never leaving Hala’s face as he accepted the drink. “Can you fetch me one of those strawberry desserts from over there?
”
Hala stood with a grunt. All right, maybe so—but only because it was literally her job to be at his beck and call. That was entirely different from Lady Elaine’s shameful display. Entirely.
“Can you believe it? ” Jeff appeared beside her, nervously adjusting his livery. “Our king getting engaged tonight. ”
Jeff was Bastion’s valet, a job that seemed to leave him in constant anguish.
“I really can’t,” Hala admitted. “Oh, aren’t you even a little excited? ” Jeff nudged her. “Think of it.
A royal wedding. Celebrations throughout the kingdom. ”
Hala snorted. “That man can’t keep his attention on a woman for more than a few days.
He’s not about to do it for a lifetime. Look at him already dancing with someone new. ”
“If you ask me, he only does it because he knows you’re watching,” Clarice said, a kitchen maid slipping in beside them. “He does it because he can’t stand the idea that someone might not worship him,” Hala shot back.
She’d long ago realized her indifference was the only thing keeping Bastion’s attention. If she ever melted under that golden gaze like the others, he’d move on in an instant. And that was exactly what she should want—to be free of his irritating presence and the foolish daydreams. And yet, when his eyes found hers across the dance floor, Hala knew she’d never stop aggravating him.
She couldn’t bear the thought of those eyes never seeking hers again. “A mating bond is forever,” Clarice pointed out. “Once he chooses his mate—”
“If he even bothers,” Hala cut her off, heart skipping. “Which I doubt.
He’s much too fickle. ”
True mates were rare among wolves, rarer still among royalty, where politics always outweighed fate. Steuart Holloway strode past with his clipboard, then stopped. “That’s our king you’re speaking of,” he hissed.
“Mind your words. ”
Hala bit her tongue instead of saying that he had the maturity of a twelve-year-old because she’d known him at twelve and he hadn’t changed since. “It was all well and fine for you to play with His Majesty as children,” Holloway continued. Hala nearly laughed.
A memory rose unbidden: Bastion slipping a snake into her bed, her chasing him with it through the gardens, both of them ending up in the fountain. Play? Hardly. They’d tormented each other.
The good old days. “But now,” Holloway droned on, “you must learn your place and show proper decorum. ”
Hala ignored him. Something about Bastion’s movements had caught her eye.
He blinked rapidly as if struggling to focus, his steps faltering. “Is he drunk? ” she murmured. “Hala?
” Holloway sputtered. “See, this is exactly what I mean. You can’t just imply—”
“Shh. ” She cut him off, straining her senses.
Bastion stumbled, catching himself on a table, then swayed. His goblet slipped from limp fingers. “Something’s wrong,” Hala said, her body tensing. “Bastion.
”
She pushed through the crowd. “Hala, you can’t just call the king by his—where are you going, Haya? ” Holloway’s protests faded. Bastion never showed weakness in public.
If he was faltering now, it was serious. “Freckles,” he breathed when he saw her, relief flickering across his face. He leaned heavily against her as she grabbed his arm. “What’s wrong?
” she whispered. His golden eyes tried to focus. “I don’t—” His voice was faint. “I think I—”
His words died as his eyes rolled back.
He collapsed, and Hala lunged, catching him before he hit the floor. His weight drove her to her knees, his body limp against hers. “Bastion,” she whispered, cradling his head and brushing back his dark hair. “Stay with me, please.
”
For a heartbeat, his gaze cleared. He looked at her face with something like wonder. Then his hand slipped to the ground, and the ballroom erupted in chaos. Guards rushed forward as courtiers recoiled, gasps rippling through the ballroom.
Someone screamed about assassins. “Step away from His Majesty,” ordered a guard, reaching for Hala’s arm. She jerked back. “Don’t be stupid, Lawrence.
It’s me. ”
“Sorry, Hala. Captain’s orders. ”
“Oh, tell Theon where he can shove his orders,” she snapped.
More guards closed in, shielding them from the panicked nobles. Holloway’s voice carried over the chaos, commanding that no one leave. Diplomats protested, nobles sobbed, and someone demanded their ambassador. None of it mattered.
Hala’s gaze stayed on Bastion’s still form, her heart hammering. What would Grandmother do? Her grandmother, once the royal healer, had trained her well before passing last winter. Hala steadied herself, pressed two fingers to Bastion’s neck, and nearly collapsed with relief at the steady pulse.
His forehead was cool but not alarming. No discoloration on his nails. “Bastion,” she whispered, clutching his limp hand. “Can you hear me?
Squeeze my fingers. ”
Nothing. “Make way for the royal healer. ” A small, wiry woman with silver-streaked hair pushed through.
Madame Lean—her grandmother’s successor. “What happened? ” she demanded, kneeling. “He collapsed suddenly,” Hala said, shifting aside.
As Madame Lean examined him, Hala’s eyes caught on the goblet that had slipped from Bastion’s hand. Ducking past the guards, she snatched it up and sniffed. Beneath the wine’s aroma was something floral and sweet. Her wolf senses prickled.
Tracking was her gift, even if she’d never joined the royal guard like she’d dreamed. The late king had barred women from service, and by the time he died, it was too late for her training. But no one in the palace could match her nose. Scanning the crowd, her gaze landed on Lady Elaine near the doors, wringing her hands.
Earlier, she’d pressed a drink into Bastion’s hand. Their eyes met. Elaine’s widened. “It was her,” Hala shouted, pointing.
“She poisoned the king. ”
The ballroom froze. “It’s not what you think,” Lady Elaine cried. “He’s going to be fine.
I can help him. ”
The steward faltered. “Wait—are you saying you did poison him? ”
“Yes,” Elaine blurted, then backpedaled.
“No, well, not exactly. Not exactly. ”
Captain Theon’s hand went to his sword. Hala seized Elaine by the shoulders.
“What does that even mean? What did you do to him? Is he dying? ”
“He’s asleep,” Madame Lean’s calm voice cut through the tension.
“Asleep? ” Yes,” Elaine said triumphantly. “See? He’s perfectly fine.
Just taking a quick nap. ”
“You drugged him? ” Hala roared. “Were you hoping to kidnap him while everyone was distracted?
”
“Of course not,” Elaine protested, tears welling. “I would never harm him. I love him. ”
“She drugged His Royal Highness at a royal ball,” Hala snapped.
“Clearly, she has bad intentions. ”
“My intentions were pure,” Elaine insisted, “and driven only by the purest of love. ”
The very idea that this noble woman could speak of love after what she’d done made Hala’s wolf want to tear something apart—preferably Elaine’s fancy gown. “All right, all right,” Steuart Holloway interrupted.
“Lady Elaine, perhaps you could explain to us why you gave His Majesty a sleeping potion. ”
Elaine lowered her gaze demurely. “It’s not exactly a sleeping potion,” she said softly. Hala lunged forward, fingers curled like claws, but Elaine hastily added, “It’s a love potion.
”
A beat of silence fell across the ballroom, followed by an explosion of voices. “A love potion? Isn’t that illegal? She’s trying to enchant His Majesty.
”
“Everyone shut up! ” Hala roared, her voice carrying the commanding tone of a wolf who expected to be obeyed. Surprisingly, the room fell silent. “You,” Hala snapped her fingers at Steuart Holloway.
“Have someone interrogate this lady in detail about what exactly she means by ‘love potion’—what was in it, how to cure it, everything. ”
“I can tell you right now,” Elaine jumped in excitedly. “It’s—”
“And you. ” Hala cut her off, pointing to Captain Theon.
“We need a full report on how a guest could have smuggled an illegal potion into a royal function under all our noses. ”
The captain nodded, looking appropriately chagrined. “Shouldn’t we put someone more competent in charge of handling this? ” A foreign diplomat asked, eyeing Hala with obvious suspicion.
Approving murmurs erupted across the room, but Hala ignored them. She approached the diplomat with narrowed eyes, her wolf senses detecting the spike in his scent that indicated nervousness. “Did you help Lady Elaine harm His Majesty? ” she asked, meeting his gaze directly.
“What? Of course not. ”
“Then why is your heart rate so high? ” Hala interrupted, crossing her arms.
The diplomat swallowed visibly. “I merely meant that surely His Royal Highness would prefer someone other than a mere maid to handle his affairs,” he said. “You’d be surprised,” the steward muttered under his breath. Holloway sighed, beckoning Hala over.
“He has a point,” he whispered when she approached. “I have no doubt His Majesty would trust you to help. But think of how this looks in front of all these other kingdoms, Hala. You’re not a noble.
You’re not a guard. We have enough on our plates here. ”
Hala clenched her jaw. As much as she hated to admit it, Holloway was right.
This was already an international incident. Having a maid apparently in charge would only make things worse. “I’ll tell you everything I know,” Elaine interjected. “Which includes how to wake His Majesty?
” Hala stiffened. “How to wake him? ” she repeated. “You mean he’s not going to do that on his own when the drug wears off?
”
Another long silence fell over the room. “Well, not exactly,” Elaine admitted sheepishly. Hala lunged for her again, this time with a scream, only to be restrained by Captain Theon’s strong grip. “But it’s going to be fine.
Really,” Elaine insisted, backing away slightly. “Like I said, this is a love potion, so His Majesty will wake up through an act of true love. ”
When her announcement was met with blank stares, she clarified. “Basically, he must be kissed by the woman he truly loves.
”
Hala’s stomach dropped to her feet. “The woman he truly loves,” she repeated, incredulous. “But he falls in love every five minutes. How are we supposed to determine which woman he truly loves?
”
Elaine tossed her hair back, confidence radiating from her posture. “The spell wouldn’t have worked if he didn’t truly love someone,” she explained. “Which, of course, is me. I just needed something to prove it to everyone.
”
“Prove what exactly? ” Captain Theon demanded, his hand still on his sword. Elaine’s expression transformed into one of passionate sincerity as she addressed the stunned crowd. “Bastion and I are in love,” she declared, her voice carrying throughout the ballroom.
“We have been for months. But because his council,” she shot a venomous glare toward the group of older men hovering nearby, “insisted he find a princess for a mate, he was forced to send me away. ”
“That’s not really what happened,” one of the council members began. “I did this,” Elaine interrupted, “to prove to him, and to all of you, the purity of our love.
Surely you can’t expect him to marry one of these princesses after magic proves that I’m the one he truly loves and wants as his queen. ”
The ballroom erupted into chaos once more. Meanwhile, Hala stood frozen, a cold dread spreading through her. Was Bastion condemned to sleep forever?
As people parted to let Elaine approach him, Hala felt her heart constrict with an entirely different fear. What if Elaine was right? What if Bastion had been secretly in love with her all along? The entire room watched in cautious awe as the lady knelt gracefully beside the king.
“My love,” Elaine whispered loud enough for the front row to hear. “I’ll bring you back to us. ”
She bent down and pressed her lips to Bastion’s in a sweet, careful kiss, and the room held its collective breath as she lingered there. She slowly pulled back, her expression expectant, but the king remained motionless, his breathing unchanged.
Elaine frowned, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. “Perhaps you need to put more feeling into it,” suggested an elderly duchess from the back of the crowd. Elaine tried cupping Bastion’s face between her palms and kissing him with obvious passion. When she pulled away, Bastion was as deeply asleep as before.
A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd while Hala, who had been holding her breath without realizing it, slowly exhaled. “If His Majesty doesn’t love Lady Elaine,” Holloway said slowly, “then who does he love? ”
A hundred pairs of eyes turned toward the assembled princesses, each one straightening her posture and adjusting her hair. This was going to be a very long night.
The grand ballroom had transformed from a celebration into a spectacle. Bastion had been moved to a makeshift dais laid out on velvet cushions, and Hala stood at his side, self-appointed as the unofficial kiss coordinator. “The Western Isles princess will go first,” Holloway announced, consulting his clipboard. Hala narrowed her eyes at the approaching blonde.
“This is ridiculous,” Hala exclaimed. “She’s never even spoken a word to Bastion. ”
“It’s His Royal Majesty to you,” Holloway snapped. “And how would you even know who he has or hasn’t been acquainted with?
”
“I know everyone His Worship is acquainted with,” Hala replied, crossing her arms defensively. Over the years, she’d created an intricate intelligence network within the palace. Jeff told her whoever Bastion met with, the cook reported whoever he dined with, the maids whispered about whoever he looked at, and the royal postman let her read his correspondence. “The postman lets you do what?
” Holloway spluttered. “It’s for His Majesty’s own good,” Hala replied, her attention already shifting to a princess with auburn hair attempting to cut ahead in line. “Get in the back, Isabelle. He doesn’t like you.
”
As the first princess approached, Hala’s memory raced through a catalog of Bastion’s romantic history. What if one of them was his true love? “Whoa, whoa, whoa. ” Hala intervened as the princess, kneeling beside Bastion, grabbed his hand.
“You’re meant to kiss him, not twist his arm. ”
Bad enough that he’d kissed all these women when conscious and willing. Watching them take liberties while he lay helpless made her wolf howl with rage. So, as the princess leaned forward toward Bastion’s lips, “What do you think you’re doing?
” Hala snapped again. “Kissing him,” the princess sounded affronted. “On the cheek,” Hala ordered, crossing her arms. “No one gave you permission to share saliva with him.
”
The princess lowered her mouth toward the king. “For half a second, not more,” Hala added as the girl’s lips made contact with Bastion’s skin. “No, for crying out loud,” the princess exclaimed, furious. “Time’s up,” Hala said, practically dragging her away.
“Oh, and look at that. He’s still asleep. What a pity. Next.
”
And so it went on, princess after princess, duchess after duchess. With each woman who bent over Bastion, Hala’s control frayed further. “No touching his hair! ” she barked as a duchess’s fingers drifted too close to his dark locks.
The panic was slowly driving her mad. What if they never found the right woman? What if Bastion remained in this enchanted sleep forever? Or what if Bastion’s heart belonged to someone they hadn’t considered?
A memory surfaced, one Hala hated remembering—a conversation she’d overheard four years ago between Bastion and his father when the latter was still alive. She’d been bringing fresh linens to the king’s chambers when raised voices from the study made her pause. “Is this a joke? ” the old king had demanded.
“A common girl with no land, no dowry, no prospects. ”
“There is nothing common about her at all,” Bastion had replied, his voice raw with emotion. Hala had never heard him so upset, so genuinely furious. “She means everything to me,” he’d added.
And his tone—he’d been serious then. Hala had known just from that tone. And it had pierced her heart, for everyone in the palace knew about Bastion’s relationship with Oriel, a beautiful kitchen maid. “I know you’re an embarrassment,” his father had snapped.
“And I swear, if you don’t put the ridiculous idea of mating with her behind you, I’ll have her disappear from this palace indefinitely. ”
Shortly after that overheard argument, Oriel had been sent to the country estate, and Bastion had changed. His easy smile had hardened into something more cynical. His playful nature had taken on an edge of recklessness, and he’d begun bringing home a parade of noble women, none lasting more than a week.
What if all this time, all these women, had just been his attempt to forget about her? About Oriel? “That’s the last one,” Holloway announced, checking his list as the final princess stepped away from Bastion. “Every eligible noble woman at the ball has attempted to wake His Majesty.
”
A hush fell over the crowd as all eyes turned to Bastion, who remained as peacefully asleep as before. “Well, what do we do now? ” someone asked, breaking the silence. Hala’s throat tightened.
“I think,” she said slowly, “I might know who he truly loves. ”
Several heads turned her way. “Finally,” Captain Theon sighed in relief. “I was wondering when you’d—”
“I think it’s Oriel,” Hala explained.
The captain’s face fell. “Who? ” he asked. “The kitchen maid who worked here four years ago,” Hala explained, throat tight.
The council members exchanged uncomfortable glances, clearly remembering the incident. “It’s worth trying,” Holloway said finally. “We can send riders to fetch her immediately. ”
Hala nodded, her heart like lead in her chest.
“I’ll go find Mrs. Bramble,” she said, heading out to find the head of staff. If bringing Oriel back meant saving Bastion, then she would do it, even if it broke her in the process. Hala found Mrs.
Bramble in her usual domain, the staff quarters adjacent to the kitchens. “Mrs. Bramble,” Hala called. “I need your help.
”
The old woman looked up, her shrewd eyes taking in Hala’s disheveled appearance. “You look terrible, child. ”
“Thank you for noticing,” Hala replied dryly. “I need to fetch someone from the country estate immediately.
”
Mrs. Bramble’s brows furrowed. “Why? ”
“Because we need to find Oriel,” Hala explained.
“Who? ” Mrs. Bramble asked, confused. “The kitchen maid.
The one Bastion—His Majesty—was involved with four years ago. The girl he loves. ”
Mrs. Bramble stared at her in utter bewilderment.
Hala took a deep breath and recounted the evening’s events: the love potion, Bastion’s collapse, and Lady Elaine’s confession about true love’s kiss. “So that’s why we need to find Oriel,” Hala concluded. “I think she might be his true love. ”
Mrs.
Bramble snorted, patting Hala’s hand sympathetically. “Oh, I’m sure there are things we could try before resorting to that,” she said, giving Hala a pointed look. “Well, we already tried everyone else,” Hala replied, bewildered. “What do you think we should do?
”
Mrs. Bramble faltered slightly. “What do you mean you tried everyone else? ” she asked.
“I mean, every available young woman at the ball already kissed His Majesty,” Hala explained. “Nothing worked. ”
Mrs. Bramble’s face fell in utter shock.
“Oh, my dear,” she said eventually, looking more emotional than Hala had ever seen her. “Well, not everyone, I guess,” Hala amended, thinking through the palace staff roster. “Tasha didn’t kiss him. ”
I suppose Tasha had been the only other female staff member left in the ballroom during Bastion’s collapse.
The rest of them—Clarice, the other kitchen maids, the laundresses—had come and gone throughout the evening and hadn’t been present during the event. Mrs. Bramble took Hala’s hand and squeezed it. “I can’t believe—are you all right, my dear?
” she asked, searching for her words. Hala shrugged awkwardly. “It’s been a really long night. ”
The memory of the past hours washed over her—the chaos, the fear, watching princess after princess kiss Bastion—and her face fell.
“Of course it was, you poor thing. ” Mrs. Bramble nodded sympathetically. She disappeared briefly and returned with a plate of ginger biscuits, Hala’s childhood favorite.
As Hala nibbled on one, Mrs. Bramble pulled out a worn ledger and began flipping through pages. “Oriel was reassigned to the Eastern Estate,” she murmured, running her finger down a list of names. “We can dispatch a messenger immediately, though it will take a few hours for her to arrive.
”
“In the meantime,” Mrs. Bramble continued thoughtfully, “perhaps we should try other measures just to be thorough. ”
“What do you suggest? ” Hala asked.
“The rest of the staff could attempt to wake His Majesty,” she said, eyeing her carefully. “In private, of course, to avoid creating a spectacle. ”
“I’d also like to interrogate Lady Elaine first to ask for more details about the potion,” Hala said. “And there was a diplomat with her who seemed unusually nervous.
”
“You should enlist Captain Theon’s help with that,” Mrs. Bramble suggested. “Official questioning is his line of work. ”
“Right,” Hala agreed.
“I’ll find him now. ”
Captain Theon was in the antechamber outside the ballroom, deep in discussion with several of his lieutenants. “Hala,” he greeted. “What news?
”
“I’d like to question Lady Elaine further about the potion and the diplomat who was defending her. ”
The captain hesitated. “There’s a complication. Lady Elaine is actually sister to Queen Sylvie from the Eastern Territories, who married King Caspian last spring.
But Lady Elaine didn’t arrive with King Caspian’s delegation. She came with Ambassador Reiner from Westhold, a completely different kingdom. ”
“So, she might be working for Westhold,” Hala asked. “Could they have ordered her to harm Bastion?
” She felt sick at the thought. “We need to question them both thoroughly. If this is some plot to manipulate Bastion or destabilize the kingdom, we need to know immediately. ”
Captain Theon nodded.
“Let me handle the questioning,” he said firmly. “You have more important duties elsewhere. You need to make sure our king wakes up. ”
The king’s bedchamber had been transformed into an impromptu throne room, though its monarch lay unaware upon the massive four-poster bed.
A small audience had gathered to witness the staff’s attempts to break the spell. Steuart Holloway with his ever-present clipboard, Mrs. Bramble directing operations, a lone guard posted at the door, and Hala herself standing rigid at the bedside. One by one, the female palace staff entered, curtsied nervously, and placed hesitant kisses on the king’s cheek.
Each departure marked by the same disappointment, the same unchanging stillness from Bastion. Finally, Clarice entered, the last of the staff to approach the bed, stopping several feet away. “I don’t want to kiss him,” she declared. Hala sighed.
“Not kissing His Majesty is treason,” Steuart Holloway exclaimed. “It’s not treason. It’s good sense,” Clarice declared. “If Hala couldn’t wake him, clearly I’m not going to be able to.
”
Hala blinked, confused. “What do I have to do with anything? ” she asked. “Well, if you ask me,” Clarice said, “if anyone could wake him, it would be you.
Obviously. ”
“Obviously,” Mrs. Bramble echoed with a sage nod. Hala snorted.
The very idea was so preposterous that she could barely form a coherent thought. Mrs. Bramble stepped in. “Clarice, would you mind not adding salt to the wound?
” she berated. “Think about poor Hala’s feelings. ”
“Exactly,” Hala exclaimed, relieved someone was talking sense. Then she paused.
“Wait, what feelings? ”
“The poor thing was essentially rejected mere hours ago,” Mrs. Bramble whispered loudly to Clarice. “Excuse me?
” Hala’s voice rose an octave. “Rejected? How? ”
“I’d have to have attempted something to be rejected, and last time I checked, I haven’t.
”
“Well, you did kiss His Majesty,” Clarice said matter-of-factly. “Who is still asleep, despite the spell supposedly being broken if he’s kissed by someone he loves. That’s a rejection if you ask me. ”
Hala opened her mouth to yell that she had not kissed him, thank you very much, but something in Mrs.
Bramble’s suddenly suspicious expression made her pause. “Miss Hala hasn’t kissed His Highness yet, though,” Steuart Holloway observed. “Excuse me? ” Mrs.
Bramble’s head snapped toward him. “She hasn’t? ”
“Clarice exclaimed, eyes wide. “But Mrs.
Bramble just said—”
“Hala. ” The head of staff turned toward her. “Explain. ”
“I—” Hala took an involuntary step backward, feeling cornered.
“Have your lips made contact with this man’s or not? ” Clarice demanded, pointing dramatically at Bastion. Hala glanced at his sleeping form, flushing crimson from neck to hairline. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you.
” Hala felt heat building behind her eyes. “I didn’t think I had to kiss him. ”
“She didn’t think,” Clarice repeated, throwing her hands up. “You said you tried everyone in the ballroom, Hala,” Mrs.
Bramble accused. “I meant the princesses,” Hala clarified desperately. “Why would I count myself? ”
“Why would you not?
” Mrs. Bramble asked. “His Majesty has been obsessed with you since you were children. ”
Hala blinked rapidly.
“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “Of course, he’s not in love with me. He’s a prince. Well, a king now, so that’s even worse.
” She swallowed hard. “And all he’s ever done is mock me and annoy me and parade beautiful women in my face. He interrupts my work and makes fun of my hair and calls me freckles, even though he knows I hate it. ” She took a shaky breath.
“He flirts with everyone, but never with me. ”
“Ooh, you mean he treats you differently from everyone else? ” Clarice translated with an eye roll. Hala’s fist clenched.
“If he loved me, he would have told me,” she exclaimed furiously. “What’s stopping him? He’s the king, for heaven’s sake. He can have anyone he wants.
” Unlike her, forever trapped as a maid, forever beneath his notice, except as an object of torment. “Oh, I see. ” Clarice nodded sagely. “She’s scared.
That’s why she didn’t kiss him, if you ask me. ”
“Nobody asked you, Clarice,” Hala shouted, her composure shattering. In the startled silence that followed, Mrs. Bramble gripped Hala firmly by the shoulders.
“My dear,” she said, her patience wearing thin, “I understand that after years of romantic tension, you’re a little nervous about finding out whether His Majesty loves you or not. But rest assured,” she went on, “you’re the only one in this entire palace, save perhaps the steward, who has any doubt of how this is going to turn out. ”
“Well, she is just a maid,” Steuart Holloway interjected defensively. “How was I to know His Majesty was in love with the maid when all he ever does is parade around with a horde of different women?
”
“Thank you,” Haya exclaimed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” the guard at the door suddenly exclaimed, startling everyone who had forgotten his presence. “Do you want the king to wake up or not? ”
“Of course I do,” the steward replied, affronted.
“Then for the love of all that is good in this world, please shut up and let the girl kiss him,” the guard exclaimed. Pushed by three sets of expectant eyes, Hala found herself at Bastion’s bedside, looking down at his peaceful face. Just like him to be sleeping blissfully while she tortured herself with silly ideas. Her heart hammered in her chest so hard she feared it might burst, because of course she was scared.
In the privacy of her mind, at least she could admit that. How many times had she wondered what it would be like to kiss him? How many nights had she lain awake imagining the feel of his lips against hers? How many times had she dreamed of this very moment, only to wake with the bitter taste of impossibility on her tongue?
As long as she never tried, she could still hope. She could still tell herself that maybe, just maybe, beneath all his teasing and tormenting, he cared for her. But if she kissed him and he didn’t wake, then even that small hope would die, and she would be left with nothing but the hard truth—she had always loved him and would always love him, regardless of whether he loved her back. “Fine,” she sighed, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed.
In sleep, the king looked younger, the arrogant mask gone, leaving only Bastion—the boy who’d chased her through gardens, who’d argued with her over everything, and who’d stayed up all night by her side the night of her grandmother’s passing. Taking a deep breath, Hala leaned forward. Her lips were inches from his when the door burst open. “Oriel has arrived,” announced a breathless messenger.
Hala jerked back from Bastion as if burned, and the guard at the door unleashed a string of curses colorful enough to make even Clarice blush. Hala jumped to her feet. “Would you look at that? Oriel is here,” she exclaimed with forced brightness, ignoring the bitter disappointment that sank like a stone in her stomach.
“Who? ” Clarice frowned, looking toward the door. Oriel entered hesitantly, her eyes darting between the assembled faces before settling on Hala. She was still pretty in that delicate way, with soft brown hair and gentle eyes—the same woman who had once captured Bastion’s attention.
The memory of his voice, rough with emotion as he’d argued with his father over her, echoed in Hala’s mind in an endless loop. “Welcome back, Oriel,” she said, the words sticking in her throat. Oriel smiled politely, though confusion was evident in her expression. “I was told I needed to come see the king immediately.
” Her gaze drifted past Hala to the bed where Bastion lay motionless. “Is he all right? ”
“Yes. Yes.
Now that you’re here, he will be,” Hala assured her, pulling Oriel forward by the hand and leading her to Bastion’s bedside. “All you need to do is kiss him. ”
Oriel stopped abruptly, her eyes widening in shock. “You want me to—to kiss His Majesty?
” She looked around the room as if searching for confirmation. “Yes, please. It’s important,” Hala urged. “Please, miss, if you would,” the steward said with uncharacteristic politeness.
Oriel looked from one face to another, clearly bewildered by the unusual request, but seeming to understand its urgency. With visible reluctance, she approached the bed, leaned down, and placed a chaste kiss on Bastion’s forehead. Hala held her breath, her heart pounding painfully against her ribs. This was it.
This was the moment when Oriel would prove to be Bastion’s true love, when he would open his eyes and see the woman he had fought for, had lost, and now had regained. Everyone in the room leaned forward, the silence thick with anticipation. But nothing happened. Bastion remained perfectly still, his breathing unchanged, his expression serene.
“Wow, how unexpected,” Clarice muttered sarcastically. “We all really thought he’d wake up. ”
Mrs. Bramble coughed discreetly into her hand.
“What was that about? ” Oriel asked, looking around the room. “What’s wrong with His Majesty? ”
The steward stepped forward with a sigh.
“Someone gave him a magical potion at the ball tonight. He fell asleep and can only be awakened by true love’s kiss. ”
“A love potion? ” Oriel’s eyes widened.
“And you thought I could help? ”
“We did not,” Clarice replied flatly. “But she did. ” The steward pointed accusingly at Hala, who felt compelled to explain her reasoning.
“Before you left the palace,” she told Oriel, “you and the king had gotten close. And once, I overheard him talking about you to his father. ”
“About me? ” Oriel repeated, clearly surprised.
“Yes, I think—” Hala paused, throat tight at the memory. “I think he intended to claim you,” she murmured, looking away. “But his father refused. ”
“What?
” Oriel gasped, stunned. “His father threatened to send you away if he didn’t end things,” Hala continued. “And when you were transferred to the country estate, Bastion changed. ” The memory of those dark days made Hala’s chest ache.
Bastion had been almost unrecognizable—reckless, cynical, deliberately provoking his father. “So, you see why this doesn’t make sense at all? ” Hala concluded. Oriel bit her lip, glancing at Bastion’s sleeping form before looking back at Hala.
“Right,” she murmured, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “But you see, the thing is—I don’t think he was talking about—”
The door burst open before she could finish, revealing Captain Theon with Lady Elaine and Reiner, the ambassador from Westhold, in tow. “Sorry, but I have information I must share,” he announced gravely, pushing Lady Elaine and the diplomat forward. “Go on, tell them what you told us.
”
Lady Elaine’s lower lip trembled as she pointed an accusatory finger at Reiner. “This is all his fault. He made me think Bastion was in love with me,” she exclaimed, her voice rising with indignation. Her carefully styled hair was coming loose, her eyes red-rimmed from what appeared to have been tears.
“Remarkably easy,” Reiner snapped with the faintest hint of disdain. “You were so eager to believe it. ”
“You used me. ” Elaine turned to the others.
“He said the king loved me. That he’d heard Bastion had sent me away because I wasn’t a princess. He was the one who thought of the love potion. How this would prove Bastion and I are meant to be together.
And he brought it to me. ”
Hala’s mind raced to make sense of this new information. “But why? ” she asked, unable to make sense of this revelation.
The diplomat looked like he was going to ignore her. But a hard push from Captain Theon made him reconsider. “My actions were taken under direct orders from my king,” he confessed, “whose daughter was once rejected by King Bastion. ”
“Rejected?
” Hala echoed, her brow furrowing. “Straight up rejected? ”
Reiner confirmed with a slight sneer that betrayed his personal feelings on the matter. “Princess Isidora had fallen in love with him from afar,” Reiner continued, his voice hardening.
“She was utterly dejected upon his refusal. Her father, my king, was not just disappointed, but personally insulted. After all, King Bastion has quite the reputation as a—” his lip curled in distaste, “—appreciator of female company. For him to publicly reject a princess of the Westhold royal line while continuing his liaisons with women of far lesser status—it was an insult that could not stand.
”
“Are you saying your king wanted revenge? ” Captain Theon stated flatly. “He wanted justice,” Reiner corrected with practiced diplomacy. “So you thought to kill him?
” the guard demanded, his hand moving to his sword. “Not kill him,” Reiner replied calmly. “As many have pointed out tonight, including your healer, he is merely asleep. ”
“For how long?
” Hala exclaimed, furious. “We may never find who he truly loves. ”
“It was never about that,” Elaine interrupted desperately, her voice cracking. “He lied to me.
”
Reiner continued as if neither had spoken. “Princess Isidora was heartbroken, and my king humiliated. So he decided to humiliate Bastion in return. ”
“By making him sleep?
” the steward asked, clearly perplexed. “Lamest plan I ever heard,” Clarice muttered. “By making him realize that despite all his supposed charms and conquests, none of it meant anything,” Reiner explained with cold precision. “Because it was never about him loving someone that would wake him up.
It was about having someone really love him. ”
A heavy silence fell over the room as his words sank in. “You mean that to wake him up with an act of true love, the person kissing him would have to truly love the king? ” Mrs.
Bramble asked slowly. “Not the other way around. ”
“Precisely. ” Reiner nodded, looking pleased.
“And no one has. There were noble ladies from all across the continent at his ball tonight, all of whom failed at waking him. None of these women love him. ”
“So you’ve essentially murdered him,” Theon growled, tightening his grip on the ambassador’s arm.
“We have not,” Reiner assured him hastily, for the first time showing a flicker of genuine concern. “Should no one manage to wake him, he’ll do so on his own within a couple of months. His sleep is enchanted. It’s as if he is frozen in time, so don’t worry about him dying of hunger during that period.
However, a few months is enough time for everyone to know what happened, and he too will know when he wakes. ”
There was a pregnant pause, and then, unexpectedly, Hala began to laugh. “I doubt hearing a couple of princesses he once flirted with weren’t genuinely in love with him is going to break him. ” As she spoke, Hala felt a fierce protectiveness surge through her.
How dare they try to humiliate Bastion for something that wasn’t his fault, for being exactly what he had been raised to be—guarded, distant, and unwilling to show vulnerability. Reiner’s expression darkened. “Perhaps not,” he snapped, composure cracking. “But being incapacitated for months would destabilize his kingdom and make him look weak.
”
“Unless—” The word dangled like bait. Hala could see the trap forming. “Unless? ” the steward prompted.
“Unless our princess kisses him in the coming days,” Reiner said. “She truly loves him despite his rejection. She could wake him up immediately, put the incident to rest. ”
“In exchange for?
” Hala asked wearily. “For the king’s hand in marriage, of course,” Reiner replied with a thin smile. “She is a princess. She deserves nothing less.
”
Silence thickened. The snare had closed—not just to humiliate Bastion, but to corner him into the political marriage he’d already refused. It was clever. Low risk for them, high stakes for him.
“Well, that sounds like a perfectly reasonable offer to me,” Mrs. Bramble declared. “Unless, of course—”
“Unless what? ” Reiner asked suspiciously.
“Unless someone who loves him kisses him first,” Mrs. Bramble finished, eyes sharp. The diplomat scoffed. “Everyone has kissed him.
Nobody loves him. We know for a fact he only has short relationships. ”
“Well, you don’t know much, if you ask me,” Clarice drawled, inspecting her nails. Hala realized the entire room was staring at her.
Her pulse quickened. “Oh, will you stop? I am not in love with him,” she blurted. She might have admitted it to herself, and it might be obvious to everyone else, but she’d rather die than say it aloud.
“Wait. ” Her eyes widened. “Yes, dear,” Mrs. Bramble said patiently.
“Now would be a good time to get back to what you were up to before we were all interrupted. ”
Hala shifted nervously, the weight of what she was about to do pressing down. But this wasn’t about her pride. Bastion and the kingdom needed her.
“Right,” she exclaimed, rushing to the bed. “You don’t mean to say she is about to kiss him,” the diplomat cried, moving to stop her. “Don’t you dare,” the guard barked, punching him square in the nose with a satisfying crack. Heart pounding, Hala knelt beside Bastion.
What if it didn’t work? What if her love wasn’t enough? She leaned toward his cheek. “On the lips,” Clarice shouted.
Hala froze, then pressed her lips to Bastion’s, lingering a heartbeat longer than necessary, breathing in his familiar scent of pine and smoke before pulling back, stomach twisting with doubt. What if nothing happened? She opened her eyes and found Bastion blinking awake, golden eyes confused but clear. “Freckles,” he murmured, his voice a mix of amusement, curiosity, and that maddeningly familiar Bastion-ness.
Relief and joy surged through Hala, spilling into a bright, unguarded smile. Bastion frowned at her expression. “Do I have something on my face? ” he asked, genuinely perplexed.
Then his eyes shifted, widening at the crowd. Mrs. Bramble satisfied, Clarice grinning, the guard failing to hide a smile. “Well, tough luck for you,” Elaine crowed to the diplomat.
“The maid truly loves him. ”
“Of course she truly loves him,” the steward added with surprising vehemence. “Even I knew that. ”
Hala’s cheeks burned.
Everyone had seen. Her most carefully guarded secret was now public knowledge. She turned back to Bastion, half hoping for a sign—something to tell her that yes, her heart was exposed, but maybe it would be all right. Maybe he wouldn’t mock her, wouldn’t forget her.
Maybe he even felt something in return. For a moment, hope bloomed. But his face held only confusion. “Hala?
” Bastion asked carefully, reaching for her hand. Dread crashed over her. Soon he would understand. And then what would he do—lose interest?
Avoid her? She couldn’t bear it. Before his fingers touched hers, she was on her feet and running from the room. Two days had passed since the night of the ball.
Two days of Hala avoiding Bastion like he carried the plague. Bastion had sent the Westhold diplomat home with a firmly worded warning to his king about the consequences of future interference. Bastion had spoken with Queen Sylvie about her troublesome sister Elaine, who was now mucking out stables as punishment—perhaps the only satisfying outcome of this entire debacle, in Hala’s opinion. Bastion was handling everything with surprising diplomacy and calm efficiency.
And he was looking for her. Jeff, the king’s valet, had become her unwanted shadow. He appeared everywhere she went, bearing messages and letters from Bastion. Each time, Hala had the same response.
“I don’t have time, Jeff. ”
He found her in the kitchen helping prepare lunch. “His Majesty requests—”
“I don’t have time, Jeff,” she interrupted, not looking up from the vegetables she was chopping. He found her building a fire in an unused bedchamber.
“His Majesty insists—”
“I don’t have time,” she snapped, jabbing the poker into the flames with unnecessary force. The worst part wasn’t Jeff’s persistence. It was everyone else. The entire palace seemed to know she had woken Bastion with a kiss.
It had become unbearable. Hala was seriously considering leaving the palace altogether. Perhaps the country estate needed a new housekeeper. Somewhere far from curious eyes and wagging tongues.
Somewhere she wouldn’t have to see Bastion every day and remember the moment when everything changed. She was polishing a table in the library, lost in these thoughts, when she heard footsteps. Without looking up, she sighed heavily. “I don’t have time, Jeff.
”
“Liar,” came a deep, familiar voice that definitely did not belong to Jeff. Hala froze, her heart leaping into her throat. Slowly, she turned to find Bastion standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his golden eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her breath catch. “Your Majesty,” she dropped into a curtsy to hide the flush she could feel spreading across her cheeks.
“I didn’t realize—”
“Clearly,” he interrupted, pushing away from the doorframe and stalking into the room with the grace of a predator. “You’ve been remarkably difficult to find for someone who lives in the same palace. ”
Hala straightened, forcing her expression into careful neutrality. “I’ve been busy,” she declared.
“So I’ve heard,” Bastion said dryly. “Let’s see what’s so important, shall we? ” He moved closer, studying the table she had been polishing, then running a finger along its gleaming surface. “I had no idea dusting required such concentration that you couldn’t spare five minutes in two days.
”
She took a deliberate step back, desperately trying to maintain her composure. “Thank you for your invaluable feedback on the art of dusting, Your Majesty,” she said stiffly, looking anywhere but at him. “Will there be anything else? ”
Bastion scoffed, the sound halfway between a laugh and a grunt of frustration.
“You’re not even going to look at me? ” he asked. “Nothing else, then? Well, please excuse me.
”
Hala turned completely away, her mind screaming retreat. Before she could take a single step, his warm fingers circled her wrist, tugging her back around to face him. “Did you even read my letters? ” he asked, his voice dropping to a lower register that made her stomach clench.
Their eyes met, and Hala felt the air leave her lungs. She’d spent so much time watching him sleep that she’d forgotten the devastating power of his gaze when directed fully at her. “Well? ” Bastion pressed, a knowing smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.
Hala pouted, forcefully removing her wrist from his grasp. “Of course I did,” she lied. “And what did you think? ” he challenged, clearly calling her bluff.
“I think your penmanship is abysmal,” she declared, turning back to pretending to dust. She couldn’t bring herself to walk away completely, which Bastion clearly noticed. His scent shifted subtly, taking on a warm, spiced note as he moved closer. “That’s it?
That’s all you have to say? ” he asked, his voice dangerously soft. Hala gritted her teeth. “What else would you like me to say?
”
“I don’t know. Your answer, perhaps. ”
Hala froze, realizing she’d been trapped. If she asked “answer to what,” she’d be admitting she hadn’t read the letters.
“And what answer were you hoping for? ” she sighed, trying to sound bored rather than flustered. She felt his palm settle on her upper arm, warm and solid, and had to bite back a gasp. “I’d like you to say yes, obviously,” he told her, his tone suddenly serious.
The solemn sincerity in his voice caught her off guard. Unable to resist, she turned to face him. “Well? ” he asked softly, his gaze dropping briefly to her mouth.
“Well, then obviously it’s a no,” Hala declared with a brittle smile, trying to step around him. She expected amusement or a flash of challenge in response. But to her surprise, she saw only hurt in his eyes. Open, unguarded hurt that he made no attempt to hide.
“You didn’t read them, did you? ” he murmured, disappointment evident in his voice. The expression on his face made her chest ache. It reminded her too much of the boy he had once been, watching with longing as her grandmother hugged her or showed her affection.
She’d mistaken it for jealousy at the time, but later realized it was hunger for something he had never received himself. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said, voice strained. “Like what? ” Bastion asked quietly.
“Like you care,” she thought desperately. “Like I have some kind of power over you. ” She tried again to move past him. This time he didn’t stop her, and for a terrible moment, her heart cracked at the thought that he was letting her go.
“Then I’ll just read them to you,” he said from behind her. “How’s that? ”
Hala quickened her pace, moving to another corner of the library. “You don’t have them with you,” she pointed out.
“I remember them,” he replied simply. “Then you’d be reciting,” she countered, “which isn’t the same thing as reading at all. ”
“Freckles,” Bastion began, his voice shifting as he quoted his own words. “‘I’ve just been told the most incongruous story about how, for the past ten hours, I was apparently rendered unconscious, missed my own ball, was kissed by more than a hundred women, and most incredibly yet, by you.
I’d have not believed any of it if not for the fact that your scent still lingers, haunting me every second of every moment since I woke up. ‘”
He paused as if waiting for her response. “I was busy,” she snapped, keeping her back to him. Bastion sighed and continued.
“‘Hala, I’m sorry. I would have come to you already, but I’ve been detained by my council. Will you please come find me so we can talk? Please.
‘” He paused again, letting the plea hang in the air between them. “Well, obviously I couldn’t,” Hala shrugged, fighting to keep her voice steady. “Now, if you’re quite—”
“Haya,” he interrupted, his tone softer now. “Let me be clear.
Everyone’s been telling me I was under a spell only sincere love could break, and you’re the one that woke me. Could it be true? Do you love me? ” He hesitated briefly before continuing.
“Could you perhaps finally feel for me what I felt for you since I first laid my eyes on you all those years ago? ”
“Enough,” Hala cried, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Because surely you must know, Hala,” Bastion continued as if he hadn’t heard, “how much I loved you then, and only loved you more and more since the day we—”
“I said enough,” she shouted, spinning around to face him. Tears were streaming down her face, her hands shaking as she stared at him.
“This isn’t funny, Bastion. ”
“Do I look amused? ” he demanded, his own composure cracking. He didn’t.
He looked nothing like the confident king who had cornered her moments ago. His jaw was tight with tension, his eyes bright with what might have been unshed tears. “You don’t love me,” Hala insisted, shaking her head in denial. “I adore you,” Bastion countered fiercely.
Hala scoffed, burying her face in her hands. “It’s true,” he insisted, his voice gentle. “I didn’t think—I thought you knew. ”
Hala dropped her hands, staring at him in disbelief.
“Knew? Knew what? How can you even for a second believe that I would take you seriously, Bastion? After years of tormenting—”
“You torment me right back.
And supposedly you have feelings for me,” he retorted, the accusation effectively silencing her. “Unlike you, I’m not famous for my dozens of romantic endeavors,” she shot back when she found her voice again. Bastion blinked, his expression shifting as if pieces were finally falling into place. “So, you really were jealous?
” he observed. “Well, of course I was,” Hala admitted, then laughed, a sad, broken sound that held no humor. “Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted to hear?
”
“No,” Bastion said softly, approaching her with careful steps. Hala tried to evade. “Yes, I love you, Bastion. How could I not?
” Her tears fell faster now, her voice cracking with emotion. “Congratulations. You win. ”
Bastion looked stricken, his earlier confidence completely gone.
“Hala, I didn’t mean to upset you. ”
“Oh, so what? You just thought, ‘Let me confront dear old Hala about her feelings. Flatter my ego a bit.
It’ll be fun,'” she accused bitterly. “No. Did you not think it would hurt me to be confronted with the fact that while you’re the most important person in the world to me, I’m nothing but your—your servant? ” The raw pain in her voice made the words even more devastating.
“Did you not hear the part where I said I also love you? ” Bastion asked, sounding genuinely affronted. Hala snapped her mouth shut, turning away again. “You said adored,” she corrected stubbornly.
There was a pause, heavy with unspoken emotion, before Bastion spoke again. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m in love with you, Hala. I don’t know why you won’t believe me.
”
“Because you’ve had hundreds of women,” she countered, still not facing him. “And it’s always the same, isn’t it? Did you also tell them you loved them? ”
When she finally turned, Bastion’s expression was a mixture of hurt and guilt that made her heart twist.
“No,” he said firmly. “I never told anyone that. ”
Hala shook her head. “I did, however, tell most of them I loved you,” he added.
“That was quite frequent. ”
Hala stopped short. “What? ” she whispered.
“These hundreds of women, as you say,” Bastion explained, taking another step toward her. “They were never under illusions about how I felt, Hala. A lot of them, I just asked to pretend. ”
Hala shook her head in confusion.
“Pretend what? ”
Bastion ran a hand through his hair. “It all started years ago,” he began, his eyes never leaving hers, “when I realized I loved you, that I wanted to mate with you, to make you my queen. But I was worried about my father and what he would say.
I knew he would never approve. ”
Hala’s breath caught as he continued. “So I decided to test the waters, to ask him directly, but to make sure there would be no consequences for you. I asked a kitchen maid to play along—to help spread rumors that she and I were close, intimate even.
So when I asked my father about marrying a common girl, he would assume I meant her. ”
“You mean—” Hala whispered, stunned by the implication. “Are you talking about Oriel? ”
“Yes,” Bastion confirmed, a shadow crossing his face at the memory.
“As you can imagine, father was furious. He sent her away immediately. ”
Hala didn’t have to imagine. She knew because she had heard it all—the argument she had been replaying in her mind for years.
“That was a test,” Bastion explained. “And it showed me he would never let me marry you. Until he died, there would be no hope for us, and even less so if he found out I harbored feelings for you. But I couldn’t stay away from you completely.
So to better hide my feelings, I started developing a reputation. ”
The pieces fell into place with dizzying speed. All these women, all these affairs—even Oriel—had been a decoy. “When you told your father—” Hala’s voice shook with the enormity of the revelation.
“You were talking about me? ”
“You heard? ” Bastion asked, confused for a moment before understanding dawned. “You believed it.
You thought I was really talking about Oriel. ”
Hala nodded. “Is that why you started pushing me away? ” Bastion asked quietly, the hurt in his eyes taking on new meaning.
“All this time, I thought you didn’t love me back. You were always so closed off, so mocking and defensive. ”
“I thought you really were what everyone said—a flirt, a playboy,” Hala defended. “Even after your father died, you—”
“After my father died,” Bastion interrupted, “I’d become addicted to the way it got your attention.
The way your eyes would follow me across a room when I danced with someone else. The way your scent would change when another woman touched me. ” His voice dropped lower. “I hoped eventually you’d realize you cared for me if you were that jealous.
”
“Oh,” Hala breathed, too overwhelmed to say more. Years of misunderstanding, years of pain and longing—all because of a misheard conversation and stubborn pride on both sides. “Well,” she said finally, trying to sound practical, though her heart was racing. “I’m glad we cleared that up.
”
Bastion frowned. “You’re glad? That’s it? ”
“What else is there?
” she countered, the old fear resurfacing. “You’re a king. I’m a maid. ”
She turned to leave, but his next word stopped her.
“At least let me read you my last letter. ”
Despite everything, Hala felt a smile tug at her lips. “You mean recite? ”
“Recite?
Yes. ” Bastion cleared his throat dramatically. “‘To the noble court and citizens of Ironvale,'” he began. Hala frowned.
“That’s not addressed to me. ”
“No. ” Bastion agreed. “This is a copy of the address I made to everyone an hour ago.
” He continued. “‘As many of you are aware, during the recent royal ball, I was placed under an enchanted sleep through the machinations of foreign agents. This plot was an attempt to force our kingdom into an unwanted alliance through manipulation and coercion. ‘”
Bastion took a step closer to her as he spoke, his eyes never leaving hers.
“‘What you may not know is that the spell could only be broken by true love’s kiss. I was awakened by a woman who truly loves me and whom I truly love in return. ‘”
Hala’s breath caught as he moved closer still. “‘It is therefore my pleasure to announce that I will be making this woman my queen.
We shall be wed before the month is out. ‘”
Tears welled in Hala’s eyes as Bastion closed the final distance between them, his voice softening. “‘It’s Hala, by the way,'” he said. “‘Hala will be my queen.
Should she accept? ‘ Of course. ” He paused, his eyes searching hers as he added, “They laughed at that part. I think they assumed you’d say yes.
”
Hala couldn’t help the small, choked laugh that escaped her. “Say yes,” Bastion murmured, reaching up to cradle her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away her tears. “Bastion,” she protested weakly, overwhelmed by the moment. “Please,” he whispered, his lips now a breath away from hers.
“Say yes. ”
“I’m just a maid,” she reminded him, her final defense crumbling rapidly. “A maid who proved she can more than handle herself in a crisis,” he countered, his eyes filled with warmth and pride. “Who spent an entire night protecting me and this kingdom’s interests to the best of her abilities.
Who is more than worthy of being queen. ”
Hala gave him a shaky smile. “And furthermore,” Bastion added, “not just a maid, but a woman—the one I’ve always loved and always will. ”
Before she could think of another objection, he pressed his forehead to hers.
“Say yes, or I’m getting my hands on that potion, making you drink it, and waking you up to prove to you the depth of my love. ”
Hala laughed, joy bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her. Rising on her tiptoes, she closed the final distance between them, pressing her lips to his. “Yes,” she whispered against his mouth, feeling his smile match her own.
“Yes. ”
One month later, Queen Hala of Ironvale stood on the palace balcony, watching the sunrise paint the kingdom in shades of gold. Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, and she leaned back against her husband’s chest with a contented sigh. “Any regrets, freckles?
” Bastion murmured, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot just below her ear. “Just one,” she replied thoughtfully. She felt him tense slightly. “What’s that?
”
Turning in his arms, Hala gave him a mischievous smile. “I rather miss having the authority to order you to clean up your own messes. ”
Bastion laughed, the sound rich and warm. “As if being queen has stopped you from ordering me around.
”
“True,” she conceded, rising on her toes to brush her lips against his. “Some things never change. ”
“And some things,” he whispered, pulling her closer, “change for the better. ”
As their lips met again, Hala silently agreed.
Some things, indeed.
