Celeste’s gaze held more than confusion when they were summoned to the courtyard a few days after the alphas had left the castle.
Servants and highborns alike stood with anticipation in their eyes. The sun had just set, and whispers swirled as Celeste listened to two maids speaking in hushed tones, loud enough to overhear.
“What do you think we’re all being called for? Is there another enemy attack?”
“No, the king will never allow what happened five years ago to repeat. Besides, that slave is all the proof we need that he won.” The maid snickered, her eyes darting toward Celeste.
But they were right—what argument did she have? The Crossvale were tyrants, seen across the realm as traitors. Her place as the king’s trophy slave was proof enough, while her brother Derek suffered hellish to
