Zion

“Marisa, what’s this?” I ask, yawning as the light of the sun begins to hit my face. As Marisa makes my bed, she looks over to the open closet door, looking at me as I hold up some clothes.

“The King had them delivered here while you dined last night,” she explains, watching me nod. The articles of clothing I hold in my hands are not something I would expect to find here, for I have no clue how King Zion could obtain that information. Heck, the clothes still smell like my apartment. Last night I ate silently and alone in one of the massive dining halls, King Zion unable to attend due to some meeting, and I was rather glad.

Shutting the bathroom door, I take off the towel from my shower and begin with my undergarments of my favorite nude bra and panties, only to frown as I see the clothes picked out. They are my nicest, not my usual leggings and sweaters with loose threads. A pair of dark wash jeans I wear for when my parents visit, a pair I would also wear for pack meetings long ago, and a nice cream blouse with a V in the front and flows nicely. Pulling on the boots by the sink, I look at myself in the mirror, my thick brown hair still having to endure the brush and bags under my eyes.

I barely slept, too much worry flooding my head over where I am and what is going to happen. I mean, it’s no everyday that the Wolf King orders you to stay at his palace and be his without a clue why. It sucks.

Once my hair is brushed and I manage to get it into a bun, I exit the bathroom, Marisa about to leave, my breakfast on the tray that she brought it here on. The best breakfast I’ve had in months, but unable to beat my mother’s bacon and scones. It was a breakfast for a Queen, which scares me. The food was brought on a legitimate gold platter and Marisa explained which silverware I used for each type of food. At least it was worth the stress over which spoon is for what and so forth.

“Lady Sybil, the King will be in the Council chambers until noon, though he would like for you, in the meantime, to be fitted.”

“Fitted for what?” I sigh, sitting on my lounge chair as Marisa motions that the zipper to my jeans is undone. Fixing the problem, I await her answer.

“He wants you fitted for just all types of clothes, just simple measurements is all.”

“Simple my ass,” I mutter under my breath, watching Marisa leave as I’m once more left to a silent room. If I was any typical girl locked in a castle the library would be my first place to go, but seeing that I actually detest reading, I decide to head down a random hall, opposite of where I came. Why read when you can explore and try to find hidden passageways.

The stairs go up in a narrow tower, circling up another three stories. Smiling, I take flight, ascending the stairs as I look out to the lake, watching as a few ducks land by the side and a goose or two begin flying away. It’s beautiful out there.

As I come to the end of the stairs, I raise an eyebrow at the door ahead, just a bare gray door with no design but a metal handle. Pulling open the door, I groan, met with another five flights to stairs.

By the time I finished the stairs, my legs are burning and I’m catching my breath as my wolf wants to be let out. I wonder how the nobles would react if they saw a rogue prancing around the throne room and maybe pissing on the Royal throne. Chuckling to myself, I find myself at the top of the tower, the windows gone, just the bare breeze keeping me company as I look out upon the castle grounds.

Looking down, I see the gray roof a story down, very steep and daring me to jump out and feel all spy-like. When you’re left to your mind alone, you think of cool things to do. For the rest of the time up in the tower, I just look out upon the trees and trees, not bothering with the expensive village of snobs as I groan.

Eventually I head back down, closing the door behind me as I find myself back to where my room is. I decide to take a left, down a flight of stairs as paintings line the walls with vibrant colors. For sure this place took some hefty work.

“A rogue in the palace,” I chuckle as I see a painting of the third Wolf King slaying a rogue with his bare hands. The royals used to hate rogues until King Charles married a rogue and she became one of the most beloved Queens in history.

I soon come to the music room, a harp being polished by a maid as another works on the grand piano, the ceiling with a massive window letting light in. As I leave the room, I find myself growing very bored and in need of something fun to do. Maybe I could find the council chambers and listen in? Or I could try and find a way out?

I choose the latter, making my way down to the first floor, and into the ballroom. “Hello?”

“Hello?” My voice comes back at me, the echo making me smile as I look at the tall pillars of marble going everywhere, the checkered black and white marble floor still a bit wet from being washed, and enough to space for the whole Vatican population. Smiling at the thought of the rook echoing, I look around for anyone still here.

“Penis.”

I’ve really outdone myself and am acting like a child. The word echoes and just as I clap my hands together, a sudden rush of cold air passes bye. “Quite immature really,” the man speaks, looking down upon me as his eyes frighten me, black orbs with a silver ring around the pupil. “I’m surprised why the King chose you, but every King needs a jester,” he comments, watching my fave turn sour.

“And who are you?”

“Lord Kane,” he introduces himself as I bow my head. “The council is on break, meaning, I may have not been the only one to hear your foolish word.”

My jaw clenches as I already tell I do not like this one. “So, what is a rogue doing here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I reply, putting my hands behind my back as he nods.

“Typical Zion really, unaware that he should explain to poor girls every once in a while,” he adds, walking past me, running a hand through his silver hair. “We have just been discussing war for the past five hours, Lady Sybil, I believe you’d be a sight for sore eyes.” I raise an eyebrow. “I’d better be off, he’s coming this way.”

Damn it.

“See you soon,” he practically sings as he exits the room, his presence gone as I’m once more left to the silence.

I can hear the King, his footsteps across one of the many halls leading to this room, making me wonder which side I should be prepare to face him at. Collecting myself, I go into the mindset that the most powerful man in the whole wolf empire is about to speak with me...only, that is forgotten as I remember he practically had me here for no reason yet explained.

“As a child my mother loved massive balls filled with the upper crust of society,” he greets, entering the room, freshly shaven and in another suit, one dark gray and the royal robes in his hands, dragging upon the floor as if he has no care for them. “I would hide behind her as we met everyone, clutching onto her dress, shy like many small children.” I nod, trying to picture a small King Zion, afraid as he hid behind a woman my mother loved to gossip about. “My father hated the parties. He said it was a waste of time, that my mother only wanted this room filled with parties to make it feel like the palace wasn’t empty.”

“She felt it was empty?” I ask, crossing my arms as I look to the ceiling, the clouds painted in pastels.

He looks down to his shoes, dropping the royal robes to the floor, making my eyes widen. “She felt it had no home feeling.” I nod, watching as he leaves the robes behind him as he does a small circle around the room, scanning the room with those eyes. “My father liked the palace silent, but he loved my mother.”

He approaches, hands clasped behind his back, eyes locked upon me. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

“Five years ago leaves you enough time to mourn,” he comments, now a yard away from me as I bite the inside of my cheek, my heart skipping a beat.

“Yet you spent much of your life around her,” I whisper, looking over my shoulder, hoping someone may appear in the room and let me excuse myself. “Sorry.” He hums as a response, his hands moving from his back, making me jump a bit, afraid he may reach out for me. No, I do not think he would hit me, just when he touches you, when the King does that, you feel odd. Out of place.

We stand in silence for another minute, the atmosphere tense as I feel my legs begin to shake, the nerves catching up to me. “How was Council?”

“Fine, how was the view of the tower?”

“How?” I ask, taking a small step back.

“A palace where the King loves doesn’t have high security for no reason,” he informs, walking away, towards the back of the room, where another balcony is, a massive one that overlooks the lake three stories up. “I would like for you to accompany me to the next Council meeting.”

“No one is allowed in but nobles and royals, your Ma-Zi...Zion.” His name feels weird coming from my lips, the name of the most powerful man in the world of wolves. “I rather enjoy exploring anyway.”

“Exploring for a way out,” he chuckles, looking over his shoulder to me, the sunlight from the tall windows making his hair appear golden just like those eyes. “Besides, you’re allowed into he council room if I permit it.”

That’s true, he’s the King. “Why should I? Like, as in...” I trial off, noticing how I worded it sounded bitchy. “Why do you want me there?”

A smile crosses his lips, one that so don’t know whether to let my heart do flips or my heart sink down to my stomach. “Because I’d like for you to-

“I’m sorry for interrupting, your Majesty.” He opens his mouth but I continue. “I know I said the title, but I don’t know what to call you or even how to act because you’ve not specified what I am to you? Not said why so am here? What is it?” I ask, watching as he turns to me, stalking forward as I raise my chin. “For what? Companionship? An easy fuck? Something for your political standings, besides, rumors of a rogue in the palace could be good or bad,” I rant, massaging my temples, trying to understand the situation.

Closing my eyes, I focus on noise as I can hear him nearing, hands caress both sides of my face, strong fingers pealing my hands away as I take in a deep breath. The hands leave, the warmth leaving, only to be back as one lands upon my waist, the other taking a hand as I realize what he’s doing.

Opening my eyes, I find him close, making me try to take a step back, only to be halted by him. “A companion is part of the deal, for an easy lay, I’m not that low of a person, Sybil,” he explains. He’s right, he’s the King, anyone would be willing to spread their legs, eager to climb the social ladder, eager to brag, to gain publicity. “I’ve told you that you are mine.”

“Why? How am I your’s?” I ask, only, as he opens his mouth to speak, a gong sounds, echoing throughout the palace walls.

He smiles, wrapping an arm around my waist as he leads me with him towards the exit of the room. “The meeting will begin soon.”

“I don’t want to go,” I mutter, seeing him raise his eyebrows. “A rogue in the council room is questionable. They would feel as if their ego has suffered,” I express.

The King pulls me along, ignoring my statement as he only pulls me closer to him. “When you’re with me, they will not question it.”

“But it gives them perfect rumors to spread. A rogue in the palace at the side of the King.”

“Let them talk,” he whispers. Letting them talk scares me. If they talk, it’s bound to be heard by the common wolf pack in the human world, word is bound to reach the ears of everyone. A rogue in the palace is massive publicity. And once word goes around, someone will be interest just like the whole werewolf population. I only pray he never comes here while I am held here.

I only pray I never see him within the palace walls. Much less beside the King.