Chapter Four: The Alpha Prince's Assistant

(Kaelia's POV)

My stomach curled. Assistant to Prince Alarion? Me? It was as if the Moon Goddess was having a joke at my expense, one minute being serious about my birthday wish, the next ready to destroy my life with its revelation. How in the world was I ever going to manage this?

I sort of knew how Theron, the former assistant to Alarion, must have felt. His pride is definitely hurt worse and I hope that he doesn't come back to beat the crap out of me. Theron is an Alpha, a great casting choice for the position. He is a large, coarse man with a thunderous voice and eyes that could intimidate even the most seasoned courtier. Me? I was… me. Small, discreet, and cravenly attempting to fade into the background as a Beta.

My first day started before dawn. I did not sleep much, replaying the incident in the hallway over and over in my head. Theron on top of me, his fist raised… and the Prince, his voice like thunder that boomed above everything else.

"Kaelia. You will be my new personal assistant."

The words echoed in my head.

My mother worried at me, her bony fingers smoothing the ends of my tunic where it was fraying. "Are you sure you can do this, Kaelia?" Her eyes were anxious. "This is a much sought-after position."

"I have to, Mama," I said, trying to sound truer than I felt. "The Prince chose me. I cannot refuse him."

"That Prince isn't the kind to behead you for politely refusing his invitation. You should have refused," my mom stipulated. I knew why she worried—I too did—but his eyes captivated me and I could not refuse his flattering invitation.

"Same reason why I accepted. He isn't the kind to behead," my mom retorted. "He doesn't bite and sure won't kill me if I screw up or botch his orders. I will be fine."

She let out a heavy breath with unsaid fear. "Just. be careful, Kaelia. Very careful." I hugged her close, assuring her I'd be okay.

The walk to the Prince’s wing felt like the hallway had miraculously grown an extra mile overnight. Every step, pure pain — as if my feet were trying out for a part in a Greek tragedy. Even my pulse pounded so loudly I half-expected someone to yank open a door for the sake of hushing me. And all that grand palace tradition which I used to love, held its accusing face up to me this day, aye, sitting there, sitting there and eying me as by a line of tut-tutting old courtiers.

By the time I reached the Prince's antechamber, my hand was shaking so badly knocking felt like a challenge. The door was this massive slab of oak, over-the-top enough to belong in a fairy tale.

"Enter," this deep, commanding voice bellowed from inside—a voice that could probably get a rock to tremble. I trembled, no kidding.

I slipped in, right into a room that vibrated with energy and that particular Alpha musk—intense, yet oddly attractive. It was all so spotless, every detail in its position. And there he was: Prince Alarion, by the window, morning light defining his edges as if he had been carved by some overzealous sculptor. Seriously, he was even more unreal in the morning.

“Kaelia,” he said, pinning me in place with those ice-blue eyes. “You’re on time. Good.”

“Good morning, Your Highness,” I squeaked, tossing my head down in this clumsy, rushed bow.

"Raise your head. Look at me, Kaelia,” he ordered, voice all sharp edges.

I hesitated—just a beat—then forced my gaze up, meeting his stare. It was like he could see straight through me, peeling back every layer I’d ever tried to hide behind.

"This is not charity, Kaelia," he continued, his voice easing somewhat. "I chose you because I was outraged at Theron's behavior. I require loyalty, ability, and discretion. Can you provide those things?"

"Yes, Your Highness," I answered immediately. "You can count on me."

"Good," he replied again, a glimmer of something incomprehensible in his eyes. "Your first task is to organize my correspondence. It's. considerable." He indicated a mass of scrolls and letters piled on a massive mahogany desk.

I swallowed. Organizing correspondence was not really what I had in mind for my first day, but it was work, and I would do it to the best of my ability.

The morning was a haze of sorting, reading, and categorizing. Alarion worked in the study, calling me in every now and then to question something or retrieve a document. Every meeting shocked me with electricity. His presence overwhelmed me, his scent intoxicating.

At noon, a servant arrived with lunch. I set the tray on a small table at the window and waited for the Prince to dismiss me.

"You may sit, eat with me, Kaelia," he said, not even looking up from his food.

I blinked in shock. "Are you sure, Your Highness?"

He did glance at me, his brow furrowed. "Do you refuse my order?"

"No, Your Highness," I stuttered. "Of course not."

I sat down warily, fidgeting with the food. Eating with the Prince was like a dream, unbelievable. I was acutely aware of every movement, every breath.

"Tell me something about yourself, Kaelia," he interrupted abruptly, breaking the stillness.

My heart leaped up into my throat. This was it. This was when my perfectly prepared fabrication would break down.

"There's not much to say, Your Highness," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I'm just a servant."

"Everybody has a story, Kaelia," he replied, his eyes fixed on me. "What's yours?"

I hesitated, searching for a safe answer. "I grew up in the lower quarters, Your Highness. My mother worked in the king's chamber before she fell ill. She now tends the garden."

"What did she do?" he continued.

My mind was racing. "She was a. a seamstress, Your Highness."

He seemed to consider my answer for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Interesting."

The rest of lunch was a strained silence. I was glad to get through the questioning, but I was afraid this questioning wasn’t over.

Day turned to evening, and after I sent the last letter out Prince Casian, Alarion’s brother, came into the antechamber. Like Alarion he is also a son of the king, but he has already claimed his mate, unlike Alarion. It taunted with the drift of his presence.

"Brother," Casian replied, his voice dripping with pretended cordiality. "I stopped by to see how your new acquisition is going." He looked me over, his sneer contemptuous. "Rather small for an assistant, don't you agree, Alarion?"

Alarion's jaw was clenched. "Kaelia is working out very well, Casian. In contrast to some, she appears to appreciate the importance of working hard." His voice was tinged with a bitter tone that caused Casian's smile to waver.

Casian glanced back at me, his gaze narrowing. "Ah, little Beta," he sneered. "So, how did you get this highly sought-after job? Did you maybe. give the Prince something beyond your filing abilities?"

My face flamed with shame. I wished I could just vanish, sink into the floor and be devoured whole.

I barely had a second to blink, let alone spit out a reply, before Alarion slid between me and Casian like a wall of muscle and bad attitude. “That’s enough, Casian,” he snapped, eyes flashing. “Kaelia’s under my protection. Maybe try remembering that from now on.”

Casian, never one to just drop it, turned a lovely shade of pissed-off red. “Typical of you, brother. Always barking orders like you’ve got something to hide.” He shot Alarion a look sharp enough to cut glass, then huffed out of the room, still muttering—probably rehearsing a dramatic comeback for later.

The second the door clicked shut, quiet crashed down. Not the good kind, either. My eyes stayed glued to the floor, because if I looked up, I might actually burst into flames from embarrassment.

“You okay, Kaelia?” Alarion’s voice dropped, way softer than before. Weirdly gentle, actually.

I nodded, practically whispering to my shoes. “Yes, Your Highness. Thanks.”

He edged closer, his hand hovering right by my arm. For a second, I thought he might actually touch me—cue my heart going absolutely feral.

“Don’t mind Casian,” he murmured. “He lives to stir the pot. Just focus on your job, and you’ll be fine.”

Another tiny “Yes, Your Highness.” Like some sort of broken record.

By sundown, my brain felt fried, but there was this wild spark buzzing in my chest. Day one as Prince Alarion’s assistant: survived. Barely. But the real danger? That was just warming up. I was balancing this ridiculous secret life and, worst of all, a hopeless crush on the Alpha Prince himself. One tiny slip, and boom—game over.

I crawled back to my room that night half convinced I’d just vanish into thin air. Wouldn’t that be easier?