Phoebe’s POV
I didn’t hold Viola responsible for what went down between her and Kevin—if our positions were reversed, I would’ve bolted too.
We were even, and I knew we’d never be close. That ship had sailed long ago.
"You look... great," Viola stamred, breaking the uncomfortable silence as we strolled through the garden.
The sa garden where Elder Tricia and I had our first talk. We settled on the identical bench beneath the wisteria trees.
I clutched my notepad and pen, ready to scribble down whatever I needed to communicate.
"I’m not sure what to say to you. But I need to apologize for everything that brought you pain, whether I caused it directly or not. I never wanted to hurt you."
She ant Kevin. I beca his target the mont she disappeared.
[You don’t need to. You did nothing wrong,] I scrawled and showed her.
"When I first laid eyes on you, you were so young." Viola gazed up at the crisp blue sky, inhaling deeply.
"I thought I’d finally have a little sister, especially since my baby brother had been a complete pain since birth."
I couldn’t help but smile as she went on.
"Maybe you think I’m only bringing this up because I want sothing from you, now that you hold all the power." Viola’s eyes t mine. "But you’re right. I know you owe nothing.
I owe you everything for all the suffering I put you through, but please... my mother."
I shifted away from Viola instinctively. My gaze drifted to the horizon, and I didn’t write anything, letting her fill the silence.
"I know you despise my mother because she’s cruel. I know she wronged you countless tis and poisoned your father against you, but she’s still my mother." Viola’s hand moved to her belly. "And now I’m going to be a mother too. I need her with because I have no clue what I’m doing."
I bit my lip hard, fighting back tears—not from fear, but pure rage. How dare she ask this of after everything I’d endured at her mother’s hands.
[My father is still rotting in the dungeon. What makes you think I’d lift a finger to save your mother’s life?]
Viola’s loose dress concealed her small bump, but after her confession, I found myself staring at her stomach.
She was carrying a child while I’d lost mine. All thanks to Reginald, her brother, and years of tornt courtesy of her mother.
Yet she had the nerve to beg for my help.
Call heartless—I’d been labeled worse—but there was no way in hell I’d assist her.
[I don’t hate you, Viola, but you’re barking up the wrong tree. And yes, it’s way too late for you to play the sister card.]
I’d heard enough. I stood and left Viola alone on that bench, though her broken sobs followed as I walked away.
Guilt twisted in my stomach for being so harsh, but anger burned hotter. How could she understand my pain yet still make such a request?
Besides, I couldn’t save her mother even if I wanted to. The woman was with Reginald now.
Only two outcos awaited her: death in battle or execution afterward.
I refused to go out of my way to help that witch. If she died, her blood wouldn’t be on my hands. There was nothing I could do.
For once, I felt relief knowing I was powerless—Viola couldn’t bla for the inevitable.
Two days later, news reached that the Crimson Fang pack had fallen, and Obsidian Creek pack had surrendered. With the two largest rebel packs neutralized, mopping up the rest would be simple.
Perry was heading ho with Timothy.
The royal gamma was recovering well—his healing had been slow, but he was much stronger now.
Now I just had to wait for Perry and Timothy. I counted down the days until their return, and Marcela noticed my mood shift.
"You look incredibly happy—you’re practically glowing, Phoebe."
Marcela’s teasing made smile and duck my head to hide my blush.
But then Marcela gripped my chin, forcing to look up.
"No, don’t. Never lower your head," she said softly.
"When the king returns from battle, you’ll have the ceremony you deserve. By then, you’ll be this kingdom’s queen.
You can’t bow your head to anyone."
Marcela wasn’t trying to intimidate —she wanted prepared for what lay ahead.
It was a small lesson, but an important one.
"Your actions, your words, everything you do will reflect on the king." Marcela grimaced. "Well, he already has a terrible reputation as the Mad King, but hopefully your presence will bring so balance."
I nodded. I understood completely.
I’d give it everything I had.
That night, sleep eluded . In just two days, Perry would be here. I missed him desperately and wished ti would move faster.
Suddenly, I heard my bedroom door creak open.
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