Misguided Wolves

8. The Eclipse Festival

The morning of the eclipse festival, three maids bustled into Kate’s room, brimming with excitement—except for Bex, whose sour expression betrayed her disdain. She saw Kate as a spoiled she-wolf, unworthy of the fuss. Elliott’s rejection had stung Bex deeply; no man had ever spurned her, and she vowed to win him before he left Logi. Being assigned to dress Kate felt like another blow to her pride.

Lila, the maid with short raven hair, smiled warmly, outlining their plan. “We’ll prepare a hot bath and ready your skin for the designers.”

The steaming bath, infused with mint leaves and eucalyptus oil, beckoned Kate. Lila explained, “The mint will energize you, and the eucalyptus soothes.”

Kate returned a shy smile. “Thank you, all of you. You’re too kind.” Her cheeks flushed as the maids waited expectantly. “If it’s alright, could I bathe alone? I’ll use the products you leave.”

Bex seized the chance to escape, ushering the others out. “No worries! Take your time. Everything’s on the table.” Before Kate could respond, they were gone.

Sinking into the fragrant water, Kate felt the last of her sleepiness fade. She scrubbed with the maids’ oils and savored a platter of fresh fruit they’d left, its sweetness a small comfort. Her thoughts drifted to Fror, where her people fought Vintr’s forces. Guilt gnawed, but she pushed it aside, writing a letter to her father, assuring him of her safety. She tied it to Ara’s talon, and the werebird soared off.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Kate hurried to the door, greeted by Oliver, the flamboyant designer, and his team. He enveloped her in a hug. “My goodness, you’re scrumptious! If you don’t find your mate, we might keep you ourselves!”

Kate giggled. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

Oliver winked, waving his assistants forward with boxes that piqued Kate’s curiosity. “I thought I said not to go overboard,” she teased.

“Nonsense, my flower!” Oliver said. “Only the best for such beauty. It’s rare I work with a delicate canvas, unlike that brute I dressed yesterday.”

He kissed her hands and clapped, signaling his team. They pinned her curls to one side, letting them cascade over her shoulder. Oliver wiggled his brows. “We left this side bare for a certain someone to claim.” Kate chuckled, blushing at his enthusiasm.

For makeup, they chose soft pinks for an angelic glow, painting a white crescent moon with a pink halo beneath one eye, tying her to the festival’s theme. Then they unveiled the dress—a flowing, white gown with a blush undertone, its lace-flower shoulders adorned with gems. Pearls and crystals swooped across the backless design, giving it a bridal air. Strappy heels completed the look. Kate blushed as they dressed her, feeling like a bride.

Oliver opened a final box, revealing jewelry: a bracelet blending a sapphire-and-morganite crescent moon with a topaz-and-ruby sun, accented by diamonds and rose gold. The matching necklace and morganite-diamond studs gleamed. Presenting her to a mirror, Oliver beamed. “Perfection.”

Kate gasped, barely recognizing herself. “Is that really me?”

Tove purred proudly. “Of course. We look like a queen.”

“Princess,” Kate corrected, smiling. “We’re not queen yet.”

“Yet,” Tove replied smugly.

Kate turned to Oliver and his team. “How can I repay you?”

“Just enjoy the festival,” Oliver said. His assistants nodded, and Kate hugged them before stepping out. Unused to heels, she moved carefully. In the hall, she met Dean, whose eyes misted at her transformation.

“What happened to my little girl?” he said, voice thick with nostalgia. Offering his arm, he added, “May I escort you, my lady?”

Kate blushed. “Yes, my esteemed knight.” She took his arm, and they strolled to the castle gardens.

The town square buzzed with life. Enchanted crystals floated, casting a soft glow over townsfolk in vibrant attire. Young girls in dazzling dresses giggled, eyeing dashing suitors, while young men dared each other to ask for dances. Children played tag, weaving through stalls laden with food and games, as a band’s lively music filled the air. Sun-and-moon symbols, like Kate’s jewelry, adorned the decorations, tying the festival to Hova’s prophecy.

Kate stood awestruck, taking it all in. Jackson approached, his simple crown glinting atop a tailored suit. “Absolutely breathtaking,” he said, kissing her hand. Her cheeks burned cherry red. “Thanks to you and your designers.”

“Please, just Jackson,” he said with a wink. “Oliver’s team had the perfect canvas. May I have this dance, Princess?”

She giggled, taking his hand. “Just Kate. I’d be honored.”

Jackson’s charm and handsomeness stirred her respect, if not love. She could imagine growing to care for him, a marriage pact seeming less daunting. “Jackson…” she began, searching for words to broach an alliance.

The music paused, and he smiled. “Hold that thought. The eclipse is near. Wait here—it’ll be worth it.” He waited for her nod, then hurried off.

Kate gazed skyward, eager for the eclipse. A child, caught in a game of tag, bumped her, unphased, and ran on. Her heels betrayed her, and she stumbled, losing her balance.