We arrive at Lord Easterlin’s Estate late at night, a small group consisting of Beatrice, a few other witches, and myself. Navigating through the expansive mansion, which rivals the castle in both size and resemblance, we head towards Lord Easterlin’s room. Beatrice wishes to check on him before we retire for the night.
The grand master bedroom welcomes us with moonlight streaming through large windows, casting a gentle glow across the room. A king-sized bed, adorned with crisp, white linens and an array of plump pillows, commands the center. Lord Easterlin lays in the bed, looking no different from a sick human. Wow! Beatrice told me he was ill, but I didn’t believe her. I can’t believe it’s true. It explains the heavy smell of herbs in the room.
“Good evening, your grace,” Beatrice greets Lord Easterlin, bowing her head slightly.
“Beatrice, I can’t believe his majesty sent you,” Lord Easterlin responds, sitting up in bed. “He didn’t need to; I already have enough water witches treating my illness.”
“Indeed, your grace, the King wanted to ensure you receive the best care possible. My abilities may bring a different perspective to your healing process.”
“Regardless, he shouldn’t have,” Lord Easterlin’s gaze shifts from Beatrice to me. He takes in every inch of me, his eyes assessing my features with lust filling his eyes. His gaze lingers on my breast, causing me to instinctively wrap my arms around myself.
A smirk plays on his lips as he asks, “Who do we have here?”
“This is my assistant, Amelia.”
“Amelia? Don’t tell me your assistant is the king’s mate?”
“Yes,” Beatrice confirms.
“But she isn’t a witch. How can she be your assistant?” Lord Easterlin questions, mirroring my own thoughts.
“She isn’t my actual assistant, but she’s filling in. Even though she doesn’t have magic, she can still help run errands.”
“Hmm,” he responds, nodding. Doubt lingers in his gaze, but he doesn’t press further. “Come here,” he commands, and a shiver runs down my spine. Did he just ask me to move closer?
“Aren’t her ears working?” he questions Beatrice.
“They are,” she replies, giving me a subtle look.
Swallowing hard, I move toward him, stopping a few feet from the bed. In an instant, he grabs my hand and pulls me closer. My eyes widen in terror, my heart racing at the thought of him doing something inappropriate. I notice Beatrice moving from the corner of my eyes, but she halts as he refrains from any further action, choosing instead to simply stare. His scent fills my nose, and I hold back the urge to puke. He smells awful.
Lord Easterlin moves his hand behind my head, forcedly bending it, and pulls my hair from the scrunchie holding it. My blonde locks cascade down my back in waves. He pulls a strand to his nose, sniffing it.
“You will definitely be a nice fuck,” he declares, closing his eyes. Shocked, I take a step back, my hair escaping his grasp.
“Lord Easterlin, Amelia is the king’s mate,” Beatrice says, her tone laced with a hint of annoyance.
“You look like you will be a fighter too. My favorite,” he grins, revealing his teeth. My skin crawls with disgust, and I try to drive away the thought of punching him for thinking he could have me.
“She belongs only to the king, Lord Easterlin,” Beatrice asserts, her voice louder this time. She strides over and grabs my hand, her grip tight as she subtly glares at Lord Easterlin. I look at her, shocked by her reaction to his disgusting behavior. I had expected the opposite from her.
“Too bad. I would have made her experience things she could never imagine in her life,” he remarks, reclining on his pillow.
“I believe you don’t require our services tonight. We will take our leave. Goodnight, your grace,” Beatrice declares, pulling me out of the room.
I thank her for what she did, but she acts like she didn’t hear. That’s not surprising. I can’t help but wonder what Nickolas would do if he found out what happened tonight. Probably nothing. My heart clenches at the thought.
“He is lucky I know his value to the kingdom,” Beatrice says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“What do you mean?”
“One word and his head would’ve been gone by morning,” she says, and I freeze. Did I voice out my thoughts?
I stare at Beatrice in sheer surprise. My lips part, ready to seek more explanation, but she strides away before I can utter a single word, leaving me alone with my thought, wondering if she really meant what she said.
***
The following morning, I wake up late, to my utmost surprise. Beatrice and the other witches have already gone to Lord Easterlin’s room to treat him. I have a feeling Beatrice intentionally allowed me to sleep in so I wouldn’t have to come along. For a lady who seems to act like she doesn’t care, she sure has a nice way of showing it.
I quickly freshen up and head to the kitchen to find something to eat. Arriving, I discover the food Beatrice left for me has magically ended up in the bin, and the only thing left in the fridge are bags of blood. Staring at the blood, my tongue grazes the top of my teeth, and a flood of memories from my childhood comes rushing back, but I push them away. Now isn’t the time to go down that road. It’s all in the past. Unable to find anything to eat, I decide to wander around the estate, and during my exploration, I stumble upon a library. Eager to occupy my time while waiting for Beatrice to finish treating Lord Easterlin, I step inside, ready to explore the shelves.
To my utmost surprise, I find a Mafia romance novel on the shelves. I can’t help but wonder who it belongs to, but I don’t dwell on it for long and begin to read the book. Mafia romance novels are one of my favorite genres, though I can read any romance genre. The name of the book is “A Second Chance.”
I’m turning the page of my book when the voices outside the library halt my action. I’ve been reading for quite a while now, and the sun is close to setting. I recognize their voices immediately, and their conversation piques my interest.
“The king is now fucking his mate; it’s only a matter of time before his attraction toward her changes into feelings, and you decide to spend the night partying. What if one of his men saw you and reported back to him? Do you think he would still want to marry you if he knew you were fucking half the male population in his kingdom?” Lord Easterlin barks at someone I believe is Ember, as I can smell her scent from here.
If only Lord Easterlin knew he had nothing to worry about. The king wasn’t fucking me or likely to develop any feelings for me. I am 100% sure of that.
“The king will never know because the men I fuck won’t be stupid enough to tell him, and his men don’t frequent the clubs I visit. I also don’t think he could ever develop feelings for her. Her father murdered our late king. Falling for her would be betraying his father and our kind. We all know how our king loves both, so we have nothing to worry about.”
Ember is right. That’s why I also see it never happening between us. I also can’t believe Ember is involved with other men even though the king wishes to marry her.
“Regardless, you will stop partying and fucking other men until you are announced the future Queen. Do you understand?”
“Yes, father.”
“Now go and bathe again so that when you return to the palace, the king won’t smell the bastards you fucked last night.”
“Okay, Father,” Ember says, and I hear footsteps retreating from the library doorway.
I mask my scent as they walk away. I didn’t want them to know I was listening in on their conversation, so I unmasked my scent. It’s confusing, but my real scent isn’t the one they all know. It’s my masked scent. Except for my mate, none of them can tell I’m the same person when my scent is masked and unmasked. It’s a gift and a curse. Opening my book, I continue to read, hoping to finish this chapter before Ember finds out I am around.
***
I wake up gasping for air as a bucket of ice-cold water is poured on me. I rush out of the chair I was sitting in, looking around for the person who chose to wake me up in such a cruel way. I didn’t even know I was sleeping. Wiping the water out of my eyes, I see Ember standing a few feet away with a bucket in her hand and a scowl on her face. That’s not surprising.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she barks at me, snatching the book from my hand, now soiled with the water she poured on me. I want to reply and say I’m reading, but I think that’s already obvious.
“I asked you a damn question,” she yells, smacking the book against my head. My head whips up, my wet hair slapping my face as I glare at her, anger bubbling beneath the surface.
“Are you fucking glaring at me right now?” Ember’s voice slices through the air like a whip as she raises the book menacingly, poised to strike. I instinctively close my eyes, bracing myself for the impending impact, but it never comes.
Peeking through my lashes, I’m surprised to see someone has intervened, grasping Ember’s hand. My gaze shifts to Eric, confusion furrowing my brow as I wonder what he’s doing here.
“Eric?” I utter, my voice tinged with disbelief at his sudden appearance.
“So, this is why you kept me waiting for an hour?” Eric’s voice carries a tinge of annoyance as he addresses Ember, releasing her hand with a dismissive gesture.
Ember rolls her eyes and folds her arms tightly across her chest, adopting an air of nonchalance as she stares down at her meticulously polished nails. “No, we were looking for her, rather,” she replies with a hint of sarcasm, her tone dripping with insincerity.
“Really, and you just happened to have a bucket with you when you found her?” Eric’s skepticism is palpable, his disbelief evident in the furrow of his brow. I remain bewildered, struggling to make sense of the situation unfolding before me.
“Yeah, and now that you have her, you can be on your way,” Ember declares dismissively, pivoting on her heel and striding out of the room.
Eric’s concerned gaze settles on me, his hand reaching out to grasp my arm as he scans me for any signs of harm.
“Are you okay?” he inquires, his voice laced with genuine concern.
“Yeah, she only poured water on me,” I reply, feeling slightly awkward under his scrutiny.
“Thanks, Heavens,” Eric exhales, a visible sense of relief washing over him. Without hesitation, he removes his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I mutter, offering Eric a grateful glance as we begin to walk towards the door. His kindness towards me prompts a fleeting thought of what it would be like if he were the one Marie had recognized as our mate that night instead of Nickolas. Perhaps things would have been different, maybe happier. I release a sigh, pushing the thought aside.
“Let’s go,” Eric says, his hand finding mine as he leads me towards the door.
“Where are we going?” I inquire, a note of curiosity in my voice.
“To the castle. The king wants you back tonight,” he replies, his tone carrying a sense of urgency.
“Oh, and what about Beatrice and the others?”
“They will return tomorrow,”
“Alright, and thank you,” I say as Eric opens the back door of the Rolls-Royce for me before getting in beside me. The engine roars to life as we settle into our seats.
“I would assume your day was hell,” he says, running his eyes over my dress that was slowly drying thanks to the warmth from the car’s heating.
“Take a guess,” I say, giving him a fake smile.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what did you do to incur her wrath this time?”
I love how he says “this time” because, with Ember, it’s always going to be something.
“I think it’s because I read one of her novels,”
“Really?” he lifts a brow in surprise.
I nod.
“I shouldn’t be surprised. The woman throws a tantrum if she can’t find her phone, even when it’s right in front of her.”
“I take it you don’t like her very much,” I say, recalling the first time he saved me from her and today when interaction between them.
“Anyone who didn’t, I fear, must be mad.”
I chuckle at his statement, finding it true. Ember is a piece of work. I pity her, mate. Speaking of mates, I wonder if Eric has found his. It’s at the tip of my tongue to ask, but I don’t know if I should. He has been nice to me since I arrived, but it doesn’t mean we are friends.
“What’s the name?” Eric says, pulling me away from my thoughts.
“What?” I ask, blinking my eyes as I return back to Earth.
“The name of the book she sent you to the dungeons for.”
“Oh, uhm… A Second Chance by Amal A. Usman.”
“Okay.” After that, he doesn’t say anything and maintains silence the whole ride back to the castle. I wonder why he asked, but don’t voice it out. As I said, him being nice to me doesn’t mean we are friends.