Chapter 11: Face to Face with Nicolas
*Riley*
As soon as the words left his mouth, he turned around, leaving me alone in the room.
“This is our room.
His words kept repeating themselves in my head. I know we’re mates, but I barely know this man. He’s as much a stranger to me as everybody
else is.
And judging by his promiscuous reputation, he might expect somet things that I’m not ready to give. Even though Noah betrayed me and it still stung, he was supposed to be my first. We were supposed to share that significant moment together. I wasn’t ready to put that all behind me and give Nicolas my virtue.
I was lost in a whirlwind of emotions. So lost that time passed as I sat, frozen in place. Silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until finally, the door slowly creaked open, revealing a beautiful young girl entering. She looked around my age, with long dark hair and worn–out clothes. Is she one of Nicolas‘ companions? I wondered.
As she moved further into the room, she kept her head lowered, avoiding eye contact. I couldn’t tell if that was something she was instructed to do or if she was simply terrified of Nicolas, viewing me with equal disdain.
I noticed the covered tray in her hand as she shut the door behind her. She bowed even lower, placing the tray on the table.
Chapter 11: Face to Face with Nicolas
“King Nicolas has sent me to attend to your every need,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.
I stared, a flicker of annoyance igniting in my gut. Nicolas apparently had a penchant for slaves, because why on earth would I need someone hovering at my beck and call? Having a maid, especially one who couldn’t even utter my name or make eye contact, felt incredibly stifling.
“There’s no need for that bow whenever you speak to me,” I said, trying to keep my voice gentle.
“Forgive me, My Lady,” she stammered, “But it’s how we were trained. We’re not allowed to look superiors in the eye.”
“What’s your name?”
“Sara,” she mumbled, finally raising her head a fraction. But her gaze remained stubbornly fixed on the floorboards. Progress, at least.
“Sara,” I repeated, “Those rules don’t apply to me. Here, look at me.” I waited patiently, and after a hesitant moment, she flicked her eyes up to meet mine, a flicker of fear dancing within them.
“Yes, Your Highness,” she whispered.
“Call me Riley,” I insisted, wanting a shred of normalcy in this strange
situation.
“But I can’t, Your Highness,” she squeaked. “Alpha Nicolas would be furious if he found out.”
That sparked an idea. She’d clearly been here longer than I had. Maybe she knew something about Nicolas, something that could help me understand him. With a determined smile, I gestured to the covered
Chapter 11 Face to Face with Nicolas
tray.
“Well, Sara, why don’t we both sit down and have some lunch? Perhaps while we cat, you could answer a few questions about the, ahem, customs around here.” It was a long shot, but maybe this could break the ice and loosen her tongue.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “No, My Lady.”
“Well, if you wouldn’t eat with me, at least, keep me company,” I said. I had already taken my seat and picked up a fork.
She nodded slightly, opening the tray. My eyes popped open. There was just about everything. Luscious grapes plump with juice glistened next to a selection of cured meats and creamy cheeses, their aromas mingling with the inviting fragrance of freshly baked bread. Even though I had a mission at hand, I couldn’t wait to dig in.
Sara picked up a jug, pouring its contents into a silver cup on the table.
I had so many questions, so many things I wanted to know about him. Apart from all the rumors I’d heard, and the things I experienced, I knew nothing. And something told me there was more to him than the cruel man everyone else knew.
She was my only opportunity to know who Nicolas really is.
“Sara,” I began, watching my tone closely. “Nicolas seems… intense,”
Sara paused mid–pour, her back stiffening ever so slightly. “Indeed, My Lady,” she replied, her voice devoid of inflection.
I pressed on, determined to find the information I was looking for. “He‘ s the Lycan King and has been alive for a very long time. I can only imagine what his past was like. But you know about his past, don’t
you?”
Sara set the decanter down with a touch more force than necessary. “Lord Nicolas is the Alpha.” she said, her fone clipped. “I cannot speak on such things. He would have my head.”
I wasn’t deterred. “Yes, of course.” I said, feigning nonchalance. “But there are some lighter things, things Nicolas wouldn’t care about?”
Vera’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Lord Nicolas’s past is not mine to share. My Lady.”
I shifted in my seat, frustration prickling at my skin. Nicolas’s reputation preceded him whispers of violence and a string of
–
heartbroken women. Yet, here I was, expected to become his mate, to navigate this dangerous alpha with a maid who seemed sworn to silence.
There was no way I was getting anything out of her, maybe not now at least. I just needed to win her trust.
I finished the rest of my meal in silence. I didn’t have a choice. anyways, since Sara didn’t seem so chatty anymore. Without a word, she picked up the empty dishes, making her way out of the room.
Realizing I needed to freshen up, I peeled off my clothes, threw them on the bed and headed towards the bathroom.
Stepping inside, I was met with a spectacle that rivaled the grandeur of the dining room. The vast space shimmered with marble tiles, each vein a work of natural art. A freestanding bathtub, big enough for two, sat in the center, carved from a single block of white onyx.
Golden faucets shaped like mythical creatures adorned the tub, and fluffy white towels, as thick as pillows, were stacked on a nearby
Chapter 11.
to face with Nicolas
heated towel rack. Even the shower stall was a marvel of design, encased in sleck glass and boasting multiple shower heads.
Walking into the shower, I let the water cascade down, a cool embrace. against my skin. But as I lathered my body, I noticed the scars,
the very ones I’d trained my mind to blur out during countless showers. Today, they were all too real.
The scars were red and ugly, just as ugly as I felt. Each one a reminder of the cruelty I’d endured at the hands of those who should have loved. me. My father, a tyrant in human form, was quick to resort to shoves and kicks whenever I misstepped.
Don’t even get me started on my sister and my friends. She was the real evil queen in my story. She put some physical scars on me, but the emotional ones would probably never heal.
I wanted the scars to disappear, right now. I pushed the sponge harder against my skin. Maybe if I scrubbed harder, they would vanish. I scrubbed at them, as hard as I could, but no matter how hard I tried, it didn’t fade away.
Frustration pulsed through me. Why wouldn’t they disappear? I scraped. the sponge harder, willing the scars to fade with each aggressive swipe. The only response was a dull ache and a deepening red around the
marks.
What have I done? I’d made my already ugly body even uglier.
Dejected, I turned off the shower, skillfully avoiding the large mirror as I picked out a towel. Keeping my eyes to the ceiling, I covered myself up immediately before I could take another look at my ugly body.
There’s a knock on the door as I’m drying myself. That must be Sara. I
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turn to pick up my clothes, but realize I left them on the bed.
“Sara.” I called out to her. “Can you please pass me my clothes? I think they’re on the bed.”
The doorknob rattled, followed by the creak of the door opening. I froze. The damp towel, wet with moisture. slipped from my grasp. pooling uselessly at my feet.
Standing before me. holding out a pile of clothes, was not Sara. It was Nicolas.
