Chapter 142
THIRD PERSON POV
Isabelle's mind raced furiously as she stormed through the palace, aimless, purposeless. All she knew was that she couldn't be around her father a moment longer, not when he was saying such things to her. The fact that he dared to prioritize Maeve over his own daughter-it was unfathomable.
The ultimate betrayal.
Before long, her feet led her down a blurred hallway to a seemingly random door that she was quick to throw open, disregarding anyone else who might've been inside.
Thankfully, the room-someone's private study-appeared to be empty. Not a soul in sight, or even a sign that it was in the middle of being used. If her father was going to spout his nonsense in the garden, then she'd rather be in a place where he wouldn't find her. For the time being, this study was Isabelle's solace.
"It's not fair!" she hissed under her breath, throwing herself into the desk chair and burying her face in her arms. Frustrated tears streamed down her face as she balled her fists. "Why can't she just leave me alone and get out of my life?!"
Her body was wracked with sobs. Angry. Abandoned by the only life she ever wanted.
And so, in one out of countless times within the last month, she felt utterly alone.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.
"... of course, there's the matter of that damn bear..."
The moment she heard that familiar voice, muffled behind layers of walls and doors, Isabelle lifted her wary head, her breath catching in her throat.
Someone was coming.
Someone she wanted-needed to see.
Now it dawned on her why she was drawn to this room. Because she knew who it belonged to.
Within seconds, she could hear the sound of footsteps against the polished palace floors. One of whom walked with a sturdiness and confidence that she could recognize anywhere. A familiar woodsy scent floated through the air, growing stronger as the footsteps drew closer.
Immediately, she launched herself to her feet, the chair screeching against the floorboards as she pushed it back, and ran for the door.
It swung open, making way for two men, deep in conversation.
"... I think it'd be best for you to "Oof-!"
"
Henry grunted, startled by the apparent surprise attack that had been waiting in his office, but managed to catch himself before he could stumble backward. His confusion only deepened when he finally registered it was none other than his wife, Isabelle, who had practically thrown herself at him, burrowing into his chest.
His prime beta, Garrick, had no idea how to react to the scene before him. "Y-Your Highness?"
"Isabelle," Henry pressed. "What-"
"Don't send me away!" she demanded, sounding like a child. "I need you!"
Henry's patience was quickly running thin. He was too busy to deal with her hysterics. He was prepared to tell her to leave... that was, until he felt droplets of water seep into his shirt, followed by the sound of Isabelle sniffling. She was... crying?
Slowly, his arms wrapped around her back, unsure how to respond to his mate's sudden outburst.
Sensing the underlying tension, Garrick let out an awkward cough. "Shall 1-ah... give you two some privacy?"
Henry hesitated. With the lunar banquet over, he had quite a bit of work to catch up on, especially when it came to his campaign for the throne and, oh, did he have his work cut out for him.
Xaden's showy display of dragging in the hulking corpse of a bear was unforeseen and... frustratingly brilliant, which meant Henry had to find other ways to make himself stand out. There was so much to be done, and he had a million ideas that he was eager to work through as soon as possible.
And yet, the sensation of Isabelle trembling with emotion in his arms made him take pause.
She was dramatic and certainly trying at times... but in the end, she was still his mate.
Henry glanced at his beta. "I'll fetch you when I'm done," he said, dismissing him with a brisk nod.
Once they were alone in the privacy of Henry's study, he let his arms settle more comfortably, more securely around her heaving body. "Alright, now let's try that again. Tell me what's going on."