The morning sun stread through the narrow slits of my curtains, spilling golden streaks across the floor and bed. I groaned softly, turning my face into the pillow in a vain attempt to block it out. Sleep had co in restless waves, my mind too full of plans and details for the upcoming tournant.
But there was no ti to waste today. Father would expect progress, and I wasn’t about to squander the first responsibility he had entrusted with.
With a sigh, I pushed myself out of bed, my feet touching the cool stone floor. The room was silent save for the faint chirping of birds outside. I allowed myself a mont to stretch, my muscles loosening from the stiffness of sleep, before I reached for the bell rope near the door.
It wasn’t long before the maid from last night appeared, her head bowed and her movents cautious. She carried a basin of water and a towel, setting them down on the side table without eting my gaze.
"Good morning, my lady," she said softly, retreating toward the door.
I watched her for a mont, a flicker of guilt creeping in. Had I truly created such an atmosphere that my servants feared speaking to ?
"You," I said, halting her in her tracks.
She froze, her shoulders stiffening. "Yes, my lady?"
"What’s your na?"
Her head lifted slightly, surprise flickering across her face. "It’s Ella, my lady."
I nodded. "Thank you, Ella. That will be all."
The confusion in her expression was almost laughable, but she nodded quickly and disappeared down the hall, leaving alone once again.
After freshening up, I dressed in a simple yet sturdy garnt. It wasn’t as intricate as the ones I wore to formal events, but it allowed for ease of movent—a necessity for what the day would bring.
The morning air was crisp as I stepped out of the manor and made my way to the courtyard. Servants bustled about, their chatter mingling with the clatter of crates and equipnt being moved. The preparations for the tournant were already underway, though it was clear they lacked direction.
I made my way to the center of the activity, where a cluster of workers stood waiting for instruction. They straightened as I approached, their eyes scanning with a mix of curiosity and doubt.
"You," I called out to the nearest servant, a burly man with a clipboard in hand. "Are these the materials for the tournant?"
He nodded, his grip on the clipboard tightening. "Yes, my lady. But we’re still awaiting—"
"Good," I interrupted, snatching the clipboard from his hands. I scanned the list quickly, my brow furrowing.
"Half of this is unnecessary," I muttered, tapping my finger against the parchnt. "We don’t need double the tents. And why are there so many chairs listed? This isn’t a royal banquet."
The man blinked, clearly taken aback, but he didn’t argue.
I handed the clipboard back to him. "Focus on the essentials: the arena, seating for the spectators, and provisions for the competitors. I’ll handle the rest."
He hesitated for a mont before nodding, a flicker of respect crossing his features.
Hours passed in a blur of activity. I oversaw the placent of banners, directed the construction of the arena, and even diated a dispute between two vendors who had shown up claiming the sa stall. By the ti the sun was high in the sky, I could feel the strain in my muscles and the heat against my skin, but I refused to slow down.
It wasn’t until midday that I allowed myself a brief rest. I found a shaded corner near the edge of the courtyard and leaned against the cool stone wall, watching the organized chaos unfold before .
For the first ti in what felt like forever, I felt... purposeful. The workers weren’t just following orders; they were looking to for guidance. And for once, I didn’t feel like the overlooked daughter of a powerful Alpha.
As I stood there, lost in thought, a familiar voice broke through the noise.
"You look like you’re about to collapse," Lylda said, appearing at my side with a faint smirk.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. "I’m fine. Just taking a mont."
He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall beside . "Word around the manor is that the Alpha put you in charge of this whole thing. Didn’t think he’d ever trust you with sothing like this."
"Neither did I," I admitted, surprising even myself with the honesty.
Lylda tilted his head, studying for a mont. "You know, they’re talking about it. The servants. The workers. They’re saying you’re different lately."
"Different how?"
"Less... terrifying."
I laughed, a genuine, unguarded sound that felt foreign even to . "Is that supposed to be a complint?"
He shrugged, a blush staining his cheek.
I couldn’t help but notice how he fidgeted—shuffling his feet, glancing my way as if he had sothing to say but didn’t quite know how to start. Without thinking, I reached out and ruffled his hair, the soft strands slipping between my fingers like silk.
He stiffened instantly, his eyes widening as a deep blush spread across his cheeks. "M-my lady?" he stamred, stepping back slightly, though he didn’t quite pull away.
I smirked, tilting my head as I studied his flustered expression. "I feel like you’re becoming more daring lately, Lylda. Should I be worried?"
His blush deepened, and he cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Is... is that a bad thing?"
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "No, not at all."
For a mont, he seed frozen in place, his eyes darting to mine before quickly looking away. The corner of my mouth lifted in an amused smile as he shifted awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to do with his hands.
"You’re too easy to fluster," I teased, leaning in slightly. "It’s kind of endearing."
Lylda coughed, his entire face now a vibrant shade of crimson. "I-I should go check on the stable," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
I let him go, watching as he practically bolted across the courtyard, his movents stiff and hurried. It was hard not to laugh—he looked like a startled deer, all wide eyes and panicked energy
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