The Royal Stripper

CLEOPATRA'S POV Why would I ever go back to being a royal stripper when I can just as easily be a royal mate—and even better, a Luna? I had no desire to return to that life. So here I am, buried under a mountain of silk, my hair stabbed with a dozen golden pins —because my choices were simple: dance for nobles again or marry the North Prince of Lycanthria. Either way, I chose the wiser sin. The Northern Kingdom of Lycanthria was the grandest realm in all the Veyndral Empire—vast lands, fierce warriors, and not one but two heirs destined to be Alphas. Which meant, if I played my cards right, my family would finally be considered noble. But a girl of common birth couldn’t simply marry into the royal bloodline. First, she had to be examined for scars, purity, family history—nothing was left unchecked. “I’m going to miss you,” my little sister Maddie said, hugging me for what felt like the millionth time. I laughed softly. “You’ll be fine. You’re a big girl now, remember?” She held on tighter, refusing to let go. “Take care of Mother and Father for me, all right?” I whispered, kissing her forehead before stepping into the cart. Two palace guards helped me climb in, their armor clinking as they took their places beside it. The ride to the palace was long and quiet. The cart wheels crunched over cobblestones, and the northern wind bit sharply at my cheeks. I watched the forests and mountains roll past, trying to calm my nerves. Soon, Prince Ellie—the kingdom’s legitimate heir would be the one whose mark I’d bear forever. We arrived at the capital, Lycanthria, and the palace came into view like a dream. The whispers hadn’t lied when they called it the grandest kingdom in the Veyndral Empire. Forests stretched for miles, mountains loomed dark and tall, and at the heart of it all, the palace’s towers reached toward the sky, its walls shimmering like frost under the moonlight. Three maids rushed out as soon as the cart stopped, lowering their heads in deep bows while Prince Ellie stood at the doorway, tall and poised, a polite smile on his face. “My beautiful bride,” he said. I bowed just as my mother had drilled into me all night. “Good day, my Prince,” I said, my voice steady despite how tired I felt from hours of travelling. “I’m afraid you won’t have much time to rest,” he continued. “We have a large dinner with the Queen tonight, so the maids will need to prepare you at once.” The maids led me to the Lady Guest Chamber, freshened me up, and before long, I was squeezed into a royal gown of brocade so heavy it could have stood upright on its own. The bodice pressed relentlessly against my chest, and I could barely breathe, gasping through my mouth for breath. “It’s too tight,” I whispered, unable to hold back. “You’ll get used to it, my lady,” one of the maids said with a polite smile. “This is how royal wives must appear for dinner.” Oh, gods, I preferred the heavy robe. My head felt like it might split apart. They had pinned my hair so tightly I could feel the weight pulling at my eyes. A soft knock at the door made me straighten up. “You look beautiful,” Prince Ellie said the moment he stepped in. “Thank you, my Prince,” I replied, careful to sound as practiced as my mother had taught me. He offered his hand, and I let him guide me toward the dining hall. The doors swung open, and I froze. The hall stretched farther than I imagined; golden plates and gleaming goblets caught the light from towering crystal chandeliers, and every wall shimmered, polished to perfection. “Meet my mother,” he said, bowing low before the Queen. I followed suit with a careful bow. “I’ve heard much of the bravest Alpha in history, and of his ever-beautiful Luna,” I added, my words perfectly rehearsed. Of course, I've heard nothing—my mother had simply told me to recite it. “Oh,” the Queen said lightly, giving nothing away. “Now, let us sit and enjoy the meal,” she added, gesturing toward the long table. It was just the three of us at the table, yet the spread looked like a feast for three villages. We all took our seats, and the maids immediately began placing dish after dish onto our plates. “So I hear your parents are not of noble birth,” the Queen said, her gaze sharp. “That is correct, my Queen,” I replied with a tight, forced smile that made my cheeks ache. “And how do you plan to support our son, knowing he is the heir to the throne and the future Alpha of the pack?” “My father may not be noble, but we are well known among them. He is the greatest hunter in all of the Elarion Kingdom,” I said, trying to sound confident. “Is that so?” Her tone showed little interest. “Yes, my Queen.” The maids finished serving and stepped back silently. “Then let us eat,” she said. I silently agreed. Any more questions and I might lose my composure entirely. Dinner passed without incident, though I could tell the Queen was far from impressed with her son’s choice. Whispers claimed she came from a family of powerful Lycans—once a Gamma herself, before she was marked by the Alpha King and became his Luna and Queen. Fierce and sharp, anyone could tell by the cut of her features that she was not to be trifled with. Prince Ellie took my hand as he escorted me down the hallway toward the Lady Guest Chamber. “Hey, brother. Always your habit to miss important family dinners,” he called out to the man striding toward us. Emerald green eyes caught me first, deep enough to drown me. His curly hair and small mouth barely registered as I froze, unsettled, until I realized Prince Ellie was guiding me past him. Clearing his throat, Ellie said, “Meet my mate-to-be, Cleopatra.” “Cleo,” I replied with a polite smile. I hated that name. I preferred just Cleo. Cleopatra made me sound like some medieval wicked witch. “This is my brother, Hale—the black sheep,” Prince Ellie added with a hint of mockery. I bowed, my stomach tightening. Prince Hale didn’t say a word, no flicker of expression, nothing—but his gaze pinned me as if he could see right through me. His stare was more uncomfortable than the tightest seam of my gown. “Let’s go in,” Prince Ellie and I walked past him. “Red Hair,” Hale called suddenly. I froze. My heart skipped three beats. He knew. Red Hair—that was my stage name when I danced for the nobles, stripping in ways no proper lady would and earning coins in the shadows of their courts. He knew who I really was.