Phoebe’s POV
I turned my head toward Perry, giving him a questioning look. I shook my head, but then a thought flickered through my mind. He caught it imdiately.
"What place do you want to visit?" His hand reached out, fingers brushing through my curls. The touch seed automatic, like he couldn’t stop himself. "Tell ."
I could see he rembered our previous conversation. He wanted to make this a routine—taking to places I dread of seeing.
I pressed my lips together and shook my head again, but I didn’t push his hand away from my hair.
Suddenly, he pulled back and stood up, grabbing paper and a pen from across the room. He placed them in front of .
"Write down every place you want to visit. We’ll go once a month." Then he walked out, leaving alone.
I stared at the closed door, still clutching the paper and pen.
Places I wanted to visit?
"Incredible work, my lady!" Marcela’s voice bubbled with excitent as I successfully mixed the complex herbal redy. "You have a real gift for this!"
She wasn’t just being polite—I could tell she ant every word.
For the first ti in a month, I smiled genuinely. Actually accomplishing sothing felt amazing.
My tongue had healed completely, no more pain or irritation, but I’d grown comfortable with silence. Speaking felt unnecessary now.
"Next, we’ll try this one..." Marcela’s enthusiasm was infectious. She loved having soone who shared her passion.
Finding shifters interested in dicine was nearly impossible—most relied entirely on their supernatural healing abilities.
Sotis Lynn and Rosa would drop by to learn from Marcela, and I’d t them several tis. Having more friends felt good, especially in a palace where trust was scarce.
"Here, read this first, then we’ll look for—"
A knock interrupted Marcela mid-sentence. She opened the door to reveal Elder Wesley and Elder Eden, their smiles cryptic as their eyes fixed on .
"You can leave. We need to speak with her," Elder Eden commanded. She was in her early seventies with stark white hair.
Marcela stood her ground. "I should stay with her. Besides, the king said elders shouldn’t be here without his knowledge. Does he know you’re here?"
She was clearly afraid to challenge them, but she had no choice. The king was far more terrifying than any elder.
"Are you telling us what to do, Marcela?" Elder Wesley’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
"No... that’s not what I ant... I..."
"Leave, Marcela. Don’t make trouble," Elder Eden said coldly, holding the door wide open as if she owned the place.
With no other option, Marcela stepped outside, glancing back at with worry. I was frowning at both elders.
The door closed behind Marcela, trapping with these two who were studying like a specin.
"Phoebe, correct?" Elder Eden settled into a chair, gesturing for to sit.
I stayed put, keeping several steps between us and the table. This situation made my skin crawl, but I couldn’t leave.
"We’re here to ask so questions. I hope you’ll answer them," Elder Wesley said, taking the seat beside Elder Eden.
I remained silent, but they continued anyway.
"We haven’t t before, but I’ve heard plenty about you, Lady Phoebe. More than I care for," Elder Eden said, that fake smile never leaving her face.
"We ca to see you personally because we want you to refuse the king’s proposal for queen. I’m sure he’s discussed it with you," Elder Wesley added.
I furrowed my brow. They spoke in perfect coordination, like they’d rehearsed this entire conversation.
"We have nothing personal against you—we barely know each other—but I hope you’ll step down from the queen position. You can remain with the king, just without the title. I know you don’t want this role anyway."
"I saw your expression earlier. I know you don’t want the status either, right?"
These two spoke as if they knew intimately, which only made my irritation grow. I despised them already.
"Let be direct with you." Elder Wesley sighed heavily, as if relieving himself of so burden. "You’re not the queen we’re seeking for our king. You don’t fit the role."
"Moreover..."
He paused, fixing with a look that made my stomach turn. I hated being examined like this.
"You don’t have a wolf spirit, do you?" He grimaced like he’d spoken sothing blasphemous. "You’re also rejected, which makes you bad luck for this kingdom."
——
Marcela imdiately rushed to the throne room after the elders shut her out. She had to inform the king about this unauthorized visit.
Flynn wasn’t the only one who viewed Phoebe as cursed.
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