A Ray of Sunshine
I leaned back on my elbows, trying to bask in the sunlight while it lasted. The book in my hand nearly forgotten, I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. A soft breeze rustled through the trees around me, and one of the dangling branches of the willow tree blew across the distance between us, tickling my arm, as if it were reaching out to ask why I was not sitting in my usual spot against its trunk.
After what happened here the day before, I probably shouldn't have come at all. I knew it was only a matter of time before I heard footsteps. I was not foolish enough to think that he would give up, not when he seemed to be enjoying whatever game he was playing. But I couldn't stand to be back at the castle.
Not after last night.
I had tiptoed around Franco all morning, trying my hardest to avoid eye contact, afraid of the flood of guilt and heartbreak that would fill me if I did. When he tried to corner me again after the meeting, I had lied and told him that my mother had asked for my help. The excuse would hold for perhaps three days total before I would have to come up with a new one. Or tell him the truth, I thought sarcastically. That was definitely not an option. Franco would only urge me to give Angelo a chance, and I couldn't afford any kind of scandal until after the vote this summer. And I was sure that there would be a scandal if he was involved.
As if the thought of his name could summon him, I heard the sound of approaching feet behind me. I didn't turn, just continued to soak in the rare December sunlight, trying to put out the same air of calm that he had the day before. I was ready this time.
Some part of me wondered if perhaps the best course of action would be to consider what little alone time I had managed to get as a win and run back home, but that felt like a concession. I would not surrender my only safe haven away from the castle so easily.
"Sitting on a rock today, I see," his voice floated to me from somewhere close behind, "have you decided to give me the willow tree as a mating gift? That's very kind of you, I accept."
I had planned on ignoring him, but his words had me turning and glaring before I could think better of it. A familiar jolt went through me as my eyes met his, but I reined in my emotions better than last time, and held my ground. "Quite the opposite," I snapped. "In fact, I've been coming here for years, I'd appreciate it if you found somewhere else to loiter."
He looked more on edge than he had the day before, almost haggard, as if he hadn't slept. There was a hint of stubble lining his jaw, and for a moment some instinctual part of me wanted to reach out and run my fingers along it before I checked myself once more. Despite his weary appearance, he was leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree with his arms crossed, still doing his best to appear indifferent and, when I responded to his goading, his bright eyes alit in a way that told me he was enjoying himself already. "Ah, but I've grown rather fond of it. It is a very nice tree, I think you'll just have to get used to me."
I grimaced to show him exactly what I thought of that, and twisted back around to continue sunbathing as if he had never even appeared. He gave me a few moments of peace, sliding his body down the length of the trunk and settling himself against its base.
When he spoke again, his words had my heart sinking to my toes, "So what is your big plan with the beta? What happens when he inevitably finds his mate? Or, have you not thought that far ahead?"
At his condescending tone, I was once again twisting around to glare at him, but he had the hood of his black coat pulled down over the top half of his face, as if he planned on falling asleep at any point in our conversation. "That is none of your bus–"
"Business?" He cut me off, still not lifting the hood that covered his eyes, "Yes, you said that last time. I am very curious though, do you think he will put as much effort into fighting off his own mate? I wouldn't count on it."
My heart sank even further. The truth of his words were what hurt the most. Franco had practically said as much to me on that afternoon, was it a week ago? Or had it been two weeks? I ground my teeth. "You are a horrid man."
He finally reached up to lift the hood from his eyes. He didn't remove it though, just lifted it enough to peer out at me, his gaze unreadable. "And you're either a very shrewd, or a very cruel woman."
~*~
My father was in my foyer when I returned to my rooms, his hulking form lounging comfortably on an armchair by the hearth. When I entered, he rose to his feet.
"Good evening, father. You haven't been waiting long, I hope," I greeted politely, double checking that my face was schooled into my emotionless mask. The last thing I needed was for my father to know that something was up, but I was immensely relieved that it was him, and not Franco waiting for me, unusual as it may be.
"Not long at all," he replied. He grabbed a box that had been hidden from view behind his chair, and crossed to where I stood, offering it to me. "This just came in earlier today. I wanted to give it to you before dinner."
I took the box from his hands and walked to my desk. Inside, I found a black uniform, the material unlike anything I had ever seen before. I reached out a hand and stroked my fingertips along the strange fabric. It had an almost leathery appearance with the flexibility of something more like spandex or nylon, yet felt sturdier than all three combined. Even more strange, I felt the unmistakable whisper of magic against my skin. In awe, my voice came out barely louder than a whisper, "Is it spelled?"
My father nodded and walked to stand beside me, "By the best spellweavers money can buy. I want the entire task force wearing them when we go on the offensive."
My head snapped up to look at him. "Has the council chosen the members already?" They had only just decided that morning to create a task force. A witness had come forward with rumors of suspicious activity at an abandoned shop in a run-down area of the capital. We sent a team to do reconnaissance, and chose to put together an elite group of fighters. The council was set to choose the members the very next morning. Then, when the time was right, the task force would strike.
"Not yet," his smile turned smug, "but as king, I get to appoint one member myself. Welcome aboard."
I grinned up at him, momentarily forgetting about my mother's pregnancy and my relationship woes. Turning my attention back to the uniform, I ran my fingers over the fabric once more. "What does the spell do?" I wondered aloud. I had never seen spelled clothing before, though I knew that in their own kingdom the witches were known to spell their clothing to do many things, such as repel stains or adapt to the weather.
My father reached into the box and pulled out the jacket. "It returns after your shift."
He might as well have been speaking nonsense. "Pardon?"
He chuckled, "When your body initiates the shift into your wolf, it will trigger the spell, and the uniform will disappear. When you return to your human form, it will reappear on your body instantaneously."
I gaped at him, "How is that even possible?"
He shrugged, "The witches explained it to me, but it didn't make much sense." When I only stared at him expectantly, he sighed and continued, "They told me that when they pull objects seemingly out of thin air, they are really utilizing little pockets they created in the fabric of the world itself. The spell on these uniforms are essentially the same. When the spell is triggered, the uniforms are stored in their own little pockets, and then when it's time, they come back to you."
I looked around, trying to picture the pockets he described in the room around us. He asked, "Does that make sense?"
I nodded my head slowly, "I think so."
"Good," he folded the jacket and returned it to the box. "I have business to attend to before dinner. I expect to see you there." There was no room for questions, it was no longer an invitation, the king was demanding my presence at dinner. Little did he know, I was already planning to attend, if only to further avoid one on one interaction with Franco should he come to my rooms looking for me. I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to face him, but I hoped I could put it off until I had a viable excuse for my behavior. My father didn't wait for my response, seeing himself out.
I remained glued to my spot long after he had left, staring at the black folds of the spelled uniform and wondering when my life had gotten so strange.
~*~*~
Any predictions?
Tell me what you think!
Big things happening in the next update, I can't wait to start working on it!