Chapter 42 - The Weight of a Choice
1214 Words
Ingrid had just stepped into the entrance hall when she noticed him.
Leonard stood near the tall windows beside the main staircase, speaking quietly with one of the guards. The late afternoon light fell across his shoulders, outlining the strong lines of his posture.
He had always carried himself like that—calm, deliberate, and very aware of the effect his presence had on others.
Ingrid placed the parcels she had been carrying onto a small table near the wall.
“Leonard,” she said with mild surprise.
The Alpha turned immediately.
His expression softened into a polite smile as he approached her.
“Ingrid,” he said warmly, taking her hand in greeting. “You look as magnificent as ever.”
Ingrid allowed herself the faintest smile.
“Flattery suits you less than honesty,” she replied lightly.
Leonard chuckled.
“I assure you, this time it happens to be both.”
She studied him for a moment.
Leonard Drake rarely visited without reason.
And he never arrived unexpectedly unless the matter was important.
Ingrid gestured toward the corridor.
“Come,” she said calmly. “We can wait in the study until Anthony arrives.”
Leonard inclined his head.
“That would be pleasant.”
They walked together through the wide hallway toward the large office that had served generations of Alphas before Anthony.
Servants moved quietly through the house, already preparing tea the moment they saw the two wolves enter the room.
Ingrid sat gracefully in the high-backed chair beside the low table.
Leonard took the seat opposite her.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Two experienced rulers observing one another.
Two wolves who understood that most important conversations were never spoken directly.
The tea arrived.
Ingrid lifted her cup.
“How is Amber?” she asked politely.
Leonard paused slightly before answering.
“She is well.”
His voice was calm, but Ingrid noticed the careful way he had chosen his words.
Leonard stirred his tea slowly.
“As parents,” he said after a moment, “we both understand that marriage is first and foremost a matter of responsibility.”
Ingrid nodded.
“Of course.”
Leonard leaned back slightly in his chair.
“If there are any… obstacles to the arrangement,” he continued, “I would prefer to know about them now.”
Ingrid raised one eyebrow.
“Obstacles?”
Her voice remained completely neutral.
“I am not aware of any.”
Leonard studied her face.
“Your son purchased a girl from Elliot.”
For the briefest moment Ingrid cleared her throat softly.
“Yes.”
She picked up her teacup again.
“That is correct.”
Leonard’s gaze sharpened slightly.
“Three kilograms of gold, Ingrid.”
He let the number hang in the air.
“That is almost the price one would pay for a bride.”
Ingrid slowly placed her cup back onto the table.
The delicate porcelain made a soft sound as it touched the surface.
When she spoke again, her voice was calm.
But it carried unmistakable authority.
“First,” she said evenly.
“My son rescued a young woman from what was essentially slavery.”
Her eyes met Leonard’s directly.
“You are well aware of my family’s position on that matter.”
Leonard remained silent.
Ingrid continued.
“Second, your spies should already have informed you that she is now serving as a professional appraiser for our collection of antiquities.”
She leaned slightly forward.
“And a very good one, according to Sam.”
Leonard’s expression remained composed.
But Ingrid knew he was listening carefully now.
“And third,” she finished calmly, “before constructing theories about my son’s intentions, it would be far more efficient to ask me directly.”
Leonard studied her for a long moment.
Then he smiled slightly.
“You have not changed.”
“I would hope not.”
The two Alphas shared a brief silence.
Leonard set his cup aside.
“You always were very protective of Anthony.”
Ingrid did not deny it.
“He is my son.”
Leonard nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
Then he said quietly,
“Your son is also an Alpha.”
Ingrid’s expression remained composed.
Leonard continued.
“And an Alpha cannot ignore alliances.”
Before Ingrid could respond, the door opened.
Anthony entered the room.
He stopped briefly when he saw Leonard.
Then he nodded once.
“Leonard.”
The two men approached each other and exchanged a firm handshake.
Ingrid rose smoothly from her chair.
“I’ll leave you both to speak,” she said lightly.
She walked toward the door.
But as she passed Anthony, she paused for just a moment.
Her hand briefly touched his arm.
A small gesture.
Almost invisible.
Yet Anthony understood it immediately.
It meant:
Handle this carefully.
Then she left.
The door closed behind her.
Silence settled over the room.
Anthony moved to the desk and sat down.
“What brings you here?”
Leonard did not bother with polite detours.
“Everyone has already heard about the engagement.”
Anthony’s expression did not change.
“There hasn’t been one.”
Leonard nodded slowly.
“That is precisely the problem.”
Anthony leaned back slightly in his chair.
“I have not given my answer.”
Leonard clasped his hands together.
“That is why I came.”
Anthony watched him quietly.
Leonard’s voice remained calm.
“This alliance benefits both our packs.”
Anthony said nothing.
Leonard leaned slightly forward.
“Your territory grows stronger.”
“Our trade expands.”
“And both our bloodlines remain united.”
Anthony’s fingers rested lightly on the desk.
“Convenient.”
Leonard’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Practical.”
Anthony glanced toward the window.
Outside, the estate gardens stretched beneath the fading light of evening.
For a moment he wished he were anywhere else.
“You assume my answer will be yes.”
Leonard stood slowly.
“I assume you understand responsibility.”
Anthony looked back at him.
“And if I refuse?”
Leonard’s expression hardened.
“If you refuse,” he said quietly, “I will consider it a personal insult.”
The words were spoken calmly.
But their meaning was unmistakable.
Anthony felt irritation rise in his chest.
Irritation was one of the few emotions that reached him reliably.
Leonard walked toward the door.
“There will be a banquet at my estate next week.”
He paused beside the door.
“You are invited.”
Anthony remained seated.
Leonard looked back at him.
“I expect you to make the correct decision.”
Then he left.
The door closed.
The room became very quiet.
Anthony sat motionless.
The office felt strangely heavy.
As though the air itself had thickened.
For several minutes he did not move.
Then slowly he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk.
Politics.
Duty.
Expectations.
Everything had already been decided.
And yet everyone pretended the choice belonged to him.
Anthony leaned back again and stared at the ceiling.
He had always understood the role he had been born into.
But understanding it did not make it any lighter.
For the first time in years…
Anthony felt something dangerously close to helplessness.
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