Esmira (Enora)
Alpha King Roderic and I are the two people in this world who hated each other the most.
He hated me because my family tore him away from the woman he loved — Lysara of House Vaelis — and I hated him because no matter what I did, his heart would never belong to me.
At least, that was what everyone believed, but the truth was far worse.
Today was the royal wedding, the day I would officially wed Roderic and become the Luna Queen of Valdren.
The wedding is small and deliberately so.
There was no grand cathedral packed with a thousand witnesses, no parade through the streets, just a private chapel deep inside the palace with only a handful of lords from the Northern and Southern kingdoms present.
The official story was that Princess Esmira had taken ill and could not endure the strain of a public ceremony.
She would be introduced to the full court once she recovered.
“Do you, Princess Esmira of House Eldarion, bearer of the Bloodright of the Southern throne, take His Majesty, King Roderic of House Valdren, bearer of the Bloodright of the Northern throne, as your lord and sovereign, bound by blood, wolf, and covenant until death reclaims what the goddess has joined?”
My mouth went dry, my hands trembled beneath the lace of my sleeves.
Bloodright.
I had no wolf, no bloodright and no claim to any throne.
If the officiant knew that the woman standing before him carried nothing but common blood, he would have stopped the ceremony and called the guards himself.
Somewhere in the front row, Lord Aven sat watching me with those pale eyes, and I could feel his gaze like a knife resting against my throat.
“I do,” I murmured.
Roderic repeated his own vows, the scowl on his face deepening as he glared at me.
I could feel something rolling off him.
A low, restless energy that prickled against my skin.
His wolf.
Even suppressed, even caged behind years of House Sorvane control, it was there, pressing beneath the surface.
“By the laws of the Kingdom, I present His Majesty, Alpha King Roderic of House Valdren and Her Majesty, Luna Queen Esmira of House Eldarion. May this union bring peace, joy and prosperity and unite our kingdoms.”
Roderic unveiled me, turning away the moment our eyes met.
The officiant presented two rings, which we exchanged, then bound our wrists with a silk cord.
The small gathering applauded, and just like that, I was the Queen of Valdren.
It lasted all of thirty seconds before Roderic destroyed it.
He pulled the ring from his finger and hurled it across the chapel floor.
It bounced off the stone and skittered to a stop near the front pew.
“Are you satisfied now?”
He turned to me, his eyes filled with hatred as our gazes met and held.
“Your family took my kingdom, my crown, my freedom, and when that wasn’t enough, you used your power and your status to tear me away from Lysara and force me into this marriage.” He leaned in close enough that I could feel his breath against my skin.
“Tell me, wife, is there anything left you’d like to take?”
Tears welled up in my eyes, blinding me, but I tried to smile.
“My lord, not so—”
“Your father’s terms were clear in his last letter,” he cut me off.
“I will honour them publicly, but I want you to understand something.” He paused, then continued.
“This marriage is an arrangement. It is a leash your family put around my neck, and I will wear it because I have no choice. But do not mistake my compliance for acceptance. You will have the title, you will bear my name, but you’ll never have me.”
He leaned in closer.
A low sound rumbled in his chest, not quite a growl, but close enough to make my blood run cold.
“I will make your life a living hell, Esmira. You’ll wish to die every single day. You’ll yearn for my touch, for my gaze, but you’ll never get either. The love you so desperately wish for will never come.”
The lords watched, but no one intervened.
Roderic turned to where the Sorvane family were gathered and gave them a mocking bow.
“I hope this satisfies you, House Sorvane. I will forever be in your service.”
With that, he turned and walked toward the door.
“My lord — wait—”
I moved without thinking, reaching for his arm, but the hem of my gown caught beneath my foot, and I went down hard.
My palms slammed against the chapel floor, and my knees struck the floor.
Roderic stopped and scoffed before resuming his walk, slamming the door behind him.
I picked myself up from the floor, avoiding the gazes of the lords of the two kingdoms staring at me in silence.
Roderic hated me because he believed I was Esmira of Eldarion.
The woman who stole him from Lysara, who even then lay unconscious in the Sanctum after trying to end her life when the court had announced our marriage.
He blamed me for all of it.
But I was not Esmira.
I was not even a werewolf.
I was a common girl with common blood, wearing a crown that belonged to a dead woman, married to a king whose wolf would have sensed that I was fake if Lord Aven’s herbs hadn’t dulled every instinct Roderic still possessed.
~~~
Twenty-Four Hours Earlier.
Enora (Before she became Esmira)
Before they made me Princess Esmira of House Eldarion, heir to the throne of Ceranthia, I was Enora Hale.
I lived in a small village with my mother and my two sisters, Darya and Nelle.
Money was tight, so I eagerly joined up to become a temporary palace maid as they needed extra hands.
I was part of the team setting up the Grand Ballroom, where the entertainment would take place after the wedding ceremony, and the head maid had shoved a large arrangement of white lilies into my arms with an instruction.
“These go on the centre table of the Grand Ballroom. Don’t dawdle and don’t drop them.”
I nodded, hiding a yawn as I walked towards the palace in search of the Grand Ballroom.
I didn’t know if it was because I’d been so sleepy, but I missed a turn and found myself in another part of the palace.
I stared at the corridor, wondering where I was, and tried to find my bearings.
I was about to double back when I heard a loud crash followed by a short, muffled scream.
It had come from the corridor to my right.
I froze in the empty hallway, and pressed my back against the wall.
I remained quiet, my ears straining to pick up the noise again.
Despite living in the palace for almost a week now, I still couldn’t get used to the strange noises here.
Since the sound didn’t come again, I turned to leave.
I’d barely taken two steps when the second loud crash came again, followed by a loud, strangled yelp.
My first instinct was to run, but I couldn’t help but wonder if whoever had screamed was trapped and needed help.
Without thinking much of it, I started down the hall, still clutching the lilies, and followed the sound until I reached a door standing slightly open, with light spilling from inside.
I stopped at the entrance and peered in.
It was the palace library.
Bookshelves stretched toward the ceiling in tall, dark rows.
A reading table near the entrance held a half-burned candle and an open book, a sign that someone was there.
I stepped inside, scanning the shelves, the alcoves and the far corners of the room where the light touched, but saw no one.
“Hello?” I called, my voice echoing in the quiet library.
“Is someone —”
My foot caught on something, and I stumbled forward, my ankle twisting as my shoe slid on something wet.
Thankfully, I regained my footing and looked down.
I saw blood.
I was standing in a pool of it.
Its metallic scent wafted up my nostrils, and the thing my foot had caught against was an arm.
A young woman, dark-haired, in a white nightgown, lay face-up on the library floor, soaked in blood from the chest down.
Her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.
I jumped in fright, and the lilies slipped from my arms and hit the floor, their white petals scattering across the blood.
I got over my initial shock and dropped to my knees beside the body, my hands hovering over the wound.
“Miss — miss, can you hear me? Please—”
My chest tightened with panic as I placed my trembling index finger at the base of her neck, checking for a pulse.
I got nothing.
Just as I wondered what to do next, I heard a stampede of boots behind me.
I spun around, and relief flooded my chest as royal guards, six of them, poured through the door with torches and drawn swords.
I scrambled to my feet, raising my blood-soaked hands to get their attention.
“Thank the goddess you came at the right time.” I started, pointing at the young woman on the floor.
“I found her a few minutes ago. I think she’s—”
“Captain,” one of the guards said, staring at my hands.
“Look.”
The lead guard’s eyes travelled from my face to my bloodstained dress to the body on the floor.
He didn’t ask a single question.
He motioned to the rest of the guards with his head.
“Seize her.”
“What — no! I heard a noise and came in; she was already—”
A gauntleted hand struck me across the face, making my protest die on my lips.
My vision exploded into white sparks, and I tasted blood.
Before I could recover, rough hands seized my arms and wrenched them behind my back.
“I didn’t do this!” I screamed as they dragged me from the library.
“I just found her. I’m innocent!”
But they didn’t listen to me.
They dragged me through the corridors, hitting me each time I opened my mouth to protest, until they finally threw me into a dark room.
They shackled my wrists and feet and left me there, bleeding from my lip.
“Please,” I called out after the retreating figures.
“I did nothing wrong. I walked in there and saw her lying on the ground. Please!” But I might as well have been talking to myself, as they left immediately.
About half an hour later, I heard the door open, and light flooded the room as six men walked in.
I didn’t recognise the five lords in fine clothing, but the sixth one.
Despite being in the palace for less than a week, I knew who he was.
He was Lord Aven, Head of House Sorvane and the most powerful man in Valdren.
One of the lords in the room strode up to me and seized my arm.
“Why did you kill the princess? Who paid you? Was it House Vaelis? Answer me!”
Hi everyone,
This story would be a rollercoaster of mysteries and more mysteries.
The world-building here is a bit unique, as this is a Historical Werewolf story.
It doesn’t follow the normal werewolf society strata of Alphas, Betas, Gammas, Deltas and Omegas.
Here, the society is divided into:
1.
Bloodright Wolves, who are mostly Royals with Alpha and Luna Wolves.
They have the strongest and rarest bloodline, and only the ruling royal families carry this.
2.
Highborn Wolves: They can also be called Crested Wolves and are mostly found in Noble families, like House Sorvane and House Vaelis.
They are a tier below the bloodright.
3.
Common Wolves: Found in minor lords, royal guards, soldiers, and people with lesser nobility.
I think this group can be equal to Deltas.
4.
Commoners, people born without wolves and the vast majority of the population.
So our FL, Enora Hale, falls under this category.
A commoner sitting on a throne meant for a Bloodright wolf is the ultimate transgression of the natural order.
At such, this is not deception but spiritually offensive to the entire system, and if discovered, it won’t just be treason.
It would be blasphemy.
Or search with “Chapters&Chatter”.
Thank you.