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Thorin’s face turned crimson. He stuttered, clutching the blanket as he tried to find an excuse. "I, um... It’s—"
"Wait, you were?" Riona’s shocked face blew another punch to Thorin’s already embarrassed self.
He turned around, adjusting the sheets and the blanket to manage his embarrassnt. "So what? Can’t werewolves enjoy their ti however they want? Must I endure your degrading comnts about our ways of life?"
Thorin pouted and continued his protest, "The flowers are fragrant, and I was simply enjoying the scent. Is there anything wrong with that?"
Riona raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, alright. It’s not my place to judge you."
She took a seat on the sofa without waiting for Thorin to offer one. They had beco so close that Riona felt comfortable enough to do this.
It was surprising that Riona could act like herself without filtering her behavior or minding her manners the way she had to around other vampires.
Was it because he was a werewolf? Or was it because he had previously stated that he didn’t care about hierarchy and such things?
It wasn’t just about her mannerisms; she even felt comfortable enough to seek his counsel.
For once, Thorin was the only other person present in the secret chamber with her. He was aware of how shaken she had been at that ti.
Moreover, Thorin had also offered to help.
"What do you think I should do?" she asked, placing both palms beside her, while her eyes were fixed on her swinging feet.
She had racked her brain for far too long—longer than she usually would, because, let’s face it, thinking wasn’t exactly her forte.
Even after wasting so much ti being idle, she still couldn’t co up with a feasible solution.
Riona had no choice but to ask soone else for help. Under normal circumstances, she would have asked Sir Orlo for assistance because he was her teacher and a certified brainiac—that’s what you’d expect from an Eternal Scholar.
"Hm?" Thorin turned around slowly, adding a dramatic touch to his gesture. The look on his face was half a mockery and half a curiosity.
She frowned and gritted her teeth but decided not to kick him in the head. For now. She needed his help, and she would remain civilized until she no longer deed him useful.
"Are you seriously asking for my opinion? I did tell you to do that, but I didn’t expect you to actually do it..." He straightened up, letting the petals in his fist float down to the carpet.
He squinted, not believing his ears, but then he knew that his hearing was better than anyone else’s in the palace, so he couldn’t be wrong.
Thorin opened his mouth and then closed it again. Finally, he said, "Since you didn’t tease for what I do in my spare ti, I will gladly help you without pointing out the fact that you’re asking for my help."
Yeah, isn’t it ironic? How many tis have I nagged you for poking your nose where it doesn’t belong? And yet, here I am, asking you to poke your canine nose into my business.
Riona let out a really long, exaggerated sigh to show her dissatisfaction. "I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t have to. But I’m stuck, and I’m bad at making plans. You seem like you’d be good at it. So tell , Alpha, what should I do?"
Thorin abandoned his bed and his colorful flowers, heading to the sofa and taking the seat right beside Riona. Their thighs almost touched.
"Which issue do you wish to tackle first? The petition or your mother’s murder?"
She didn’t expect to be asked a question. Riona pursed her lips, thought hard, and replied, "I don’t know. Which one is the easiest?"
Thorin sighed and leaned back, crossing his arms as he contemplated. "Nothing is easy, and whichever you choose, there is no guarantee that you will succeed."
That answer wasn’t what Riona wanted. She clenched her fists and retorted, "What? I wouldn’t ask for your help if this is how you’re going to handle it. There’s no guarantee that I will succeed?"
He tilted his head and shut his eyes in frustration. After a mont, he opened them and looked at Riona, thinking. She could tell he was calculating sothing in his mind.
For so reason, she knew he had the answer but just didn’t want to tell her.
"I can get you out of this palace and let you and your brother live freely. Isn’t that what you ultimately want?" Thorin began.
He turned his upper body to face Riona and continued, "For the petition, I have an idea. The chance of it working is fifty percent, and you must brace yourself for the fifty percent possibility of failure."
Thorin further suggested that Riona seek out her mother’s allies. The higher their authority, the wealthier, and the stronger they were, the better. But even if she found less-than-ideal allies, she shouldn’t dismiss them.
"Every single one counts. Building a solid network is essential when facing discrimination and injustice of this scale. You can’t work alone."
"This... Does that an I must get into politics? But I can’t. I’ve never done that before."
Riona hated politics because it spoke a different language entirely. While their words were in English, their anings were completely different from what she understood.
She didn’t want to have to wear a mask to converse with people, and she certainly didn’t want to exhaust her brain trying to decipher what others were thinking while they spoke in a different manner.
"It’s ti for you to step up your ga. Do you want to just sit here and let them ruin you? Haven’t they already made their moves?" Thorin pressed on.
Riona’s heart raced. She knew he was right. After all, Lady Maris had struck first. But the thought of diving into politics and facing her uncle filled her with dread.
As soon as King Valentin’s face appeared in her mind, she whispered, more to herself than to him, "But what if I fail?"
"You won’t. I’m here, aren’t I?"
For the first ti, Riona saw a glimr of a friend beneath his frivolous exterior.
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