As I peer through the clear window, the soft morning light gently illuminates the room, creating a warm and peaceful ambiance. Abigail carefully pours the fragrant liquid into the delicate teacup, the steam wafting up in swirls and carrying a hint of sweetness. I thank her with a grateful smile and lift the cup to my lips, savoring the flavorful blend as it invigorates my senses.

Setting the cup down with a contented sigh, I glance over at Abigail, her expression momentarily confused at my next move. Amusement bubbles up within me, causing a soft giggle to escape my lips. I motion towards the vacant seat opposite me.

"Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?" Her eyes widened as she swiftly shook her head.

"I could never, my lady." I roll my eyes at her words.

"Please use a casual tone when speaking to me in private, as you are the only friend I have in the palace aside from Athenix." She pauses briefly, captivated by my pleading gaze. "Please?"

She grins while letting out a soft sigh as she gracefully fills a porcelain cup with fragrant tea and settles into her seat. "I hope our bond transcends mere titles, Abigail. You're more than just a maid to me; you're a cherished friend first and foremost."

"I'm delighted that we had the chance to establish a friendship before anything else," Abigail states, gazing out the window at the picturesque garden below. As my fingers trail over the bracelet she gifted me, a grin dances upon my lips.

"You are my very first friend."

"Ever?" Abigail questioned, her eyebrows raised in worry. I confirmed with a tight-lipped nod.

Prior to my transformation, solitude was my constant companion. The title of princess held little significance for me. Although I was attended to by servants, my family and others lavished their attention on my brother. Initially, he showed concern for me, yet once I shifted, even he turned his back on me.

"You keep your history locked away in a mysterious vault, never to be spoken of." Abigail delicately sips her tea while I capture her gaze. I purposely divert my eyes, fixating on the intricate design of the floral tea cup before me.

"At the beginning, my father failed to give me the attention I craved. Yet, on occasion, his touch exuded a sense of warmth. And every now and then, a genuine smile would grace his face, bringing a twinkle to his eyes." I grin, recalling the rare moments my father gazed at me with eyes filled with more than just emptiness. I understood I would never receive the same love as my sibling, but it was a spark of something special. "After transforming into a Raven, the mistreatment began. It all began with just him and his hands." I nervously nibble on my lip, recalling the initial instance he struck me.

I had transformed back into my human self, only to be met with horrified gazes from my parents. As I tentatively approached them, a sudden instinct prompted my father to deliver a stinging slap across my face.

"The household staff quickly caught on and became complicit. They would present me with meals covered in mold and water tainted with filth. While physical violence was not their first choice, they would exploit any opportunity that arose. Eventually, my father resorted to using whips, and the situation only grew more intense from there." I lift my gaze and witness a river of tears flowing down Abigail's face, her palm pressed against her lips in astonishment at my history.

I exhale softly while nibbling on the inner folds of my mouth.

How peculiar it is that I discuss with such ease a topic that evokes tears in others.

Abigail extends her arm over the petite table, covering my hand with hers. "You have found company in solitude now."

I beam at her words. Solitude is a distant memory now. In my corner of the world, I have her, Athenix, and Kyan as my companions.

My gaze widens in amazement as I effortlessly include Kyan in the roster of individuals I hold dear. What mystique draws me to him? What unknown force stirs up emotions within me?

"Abigail, does the Emperor have a mate?" I am struck by a sudden recollection of the inquiry I posed to him as we stealthily ascended the clock tower. His response eluded me, leaving a lingering mystery in its wake.

"No, or she would be Empress."

I find myself chewing on my lip, feeling my hands grow clammy and my heart quicken its pace. Abigail watches me intently, a look of confusion crossing her features.

"Abigail, how can you tell when you've found your soulmate?" I inquire, locking gazes with her. She appears taken aback for a moment, then clears her throat.

"Well, when you lock eyes with your partner, a special connection forms, almost like the rest of the world fades away, and it's just the two of you. There's a sense of being united and secure with this individual. It's reminiscent of love at first sight, really. And when you touch, it's like a burst of electricity." Abigail playfully dances her fingertips in the air before letting out a chuckle at her own spontaneity.

When our eyes met, it was as if the world around me faded away, leaving only him in focus. Kyan's touch sent electricity racing across my skin, like a vibrant dance of sparks. Wrapped in his embrace, I found a sense of security like no other.

Could it be the hidden truth he carried, shielding me from its weight? That he is the missing piece to my puzzle? Why keep this secret from me, when a simple revelation would suffice?

"What does it mean if they don't acknowledge each other."

A somber look eclipses Abigail's countenance as she nonchalantly lifts her shoulders. "Often times, the bond between potential mates is so intense that they hold off on rejection until a later stage." She elaborates with her chin resting on her hand.

Was he hesitant to spare me the weight of rejection once more? He has an inkling of the struggles I faced. Did sympathy stir within him? My jaw tightens, fingers tense.

Why did he choose to toy with my emotions? Why lead me down a winding path of uncertainty?

"Are you going to the hunting tournament?" Excitement dances in her eyes as she eagerly awaits my response, attempting to steer the conversation in a new direction.

"We both are." She claps her hands in excitement.

Kyan will have to wait. I need to sort out my plan for the hunting tournament.

"So what are the rumors in the palace?" I delicately sip on my cup of tea, pretending to be nonchalant.

"Duken Carmine and Lord Henry are at odds." Grinning, she tops up our tea cups with a fragrant blueberry-infused black tea. The aroma dances playfully around my senses, eliciting a smile of my own. It seems I've found a new tea to cherish.

"Oh?" I inquire while anticipating further details from her.

"Henry appears to be growing impatient about assuming control of the Duchy. The Duke is not prepared to relinquish his position just yet." I chew on my lower lip to mask my grin. They are presenting me with a golden opportunity on a silver platter.

"I hope Athenix is okay." A sad smile takes over Abigails face at my words.

"Yeah, I never knew that her relationship with her father was like that. No one did." I indulge in another sip of tea, and Abigail mimics my action. A hush descends upon us as we both delve into the depths of our minds.

*
*

As the day of the hunting tournament drew near, I found myself standing beside Athenix at the hunting grounds in no time. Athenix donned a stunning pink gown embellished with gems, though not quite as extravagant as her ball gowns. Meanwhile, I sported a deep green bodice paired with a rich brown petticoat.

As Athenix gently fans herself with a beautifully crafted matching fan, she observes with interest the bustling activity unfolding before her. The knights, adorned in their polished armors, and other nobles clad in their finest attire, are diligently making preparations for the forthcoming hunt. The courtyard is alive with a sense of excitement and anticipation, the air filled with the sound of horses' hooves and the chatter of nobles discussing strategies for the hunt.

"Is everything prepared." Athenix maintained a steady gaze on the knights and nobles, her eyes unwavering as they came to rest upon Henry. A subtle narrowing of her eyes hinted at a deeper contemplation, a flicker of emotion passing through her otherwise composed expression. Despite the chatter and activity surrounding her, her focus remained steadfast on the scene unfolding before her.

As I gaze across the field, my eyes are drawn to Henry's horse standing tall, a magnificent beast with a sleek coat that glistens in the sunlight. But what catches my attention even more are the weapons strapped to the saddle – a bow and arrows, a clear sign that Henry means business. The bow is made of polished wood, its string taut and ready for action.

"Henry is hunting with a bow?" I question and Athenix nods.

"Some hunt in their wolf form, some hunt in other ways."

"What about your dad?" This results in her stifling a laugh. Without locking gazes, we observe the aristocrats scurrying around making preparations or engaging in casual conversations.

"His wolf form, of course."

I smirk. "This works in our favor."

"Have you ever done this before."

"I've never done something like this, but I was a royal at one point." As I gaze down at the earth below, a heavy sigh escapes my lips. My attention then shifts to Henry, meticulously examining his weapon before casting a thoughtful glance at the others.

The weapons of each noble house proudly bear their unique house symbols, serving as a striking representation of their heritage and status.

"Have your maid brew some tea for us inside my tent, ensuring that we are not interrupted by any unwanted visitors." Athenix confidently saunters towards her shelter, vanishing into its depths.

I beckon Abigail, who swiftly comes to my side. "Yes, my lady."

"Prepare tea in Athenix's tent and then make sure no one disturbs us, please." As she elegantly nods in acknowledgment, she gracefully bows before swiftly, making her way towards her assigned task. The aristocrats gradually fade into the forest, leaving a sense of mystery and mystique lingering in the air. Finally, the scene shifts as I enter Athenix's tent, the fabric billowing slightly in the breeze. Abigail, swift and efficient, prepares the tea with practiced ease, ensuring every detail is tended to with care. The delicate clinking of china accompanies her movements as she sets everything in its place, creating an atmosphere of calm and organization. Once the task is complete, Abigail quietly excuses herself, leaving behind a sense of professionalism and dedication in her wake.

Athenix takes a sip before looking at me. "I don't want to know what you do. I just want to know when it's done."

The less she knows, the better. This crime I will take to my grave.

"Of course." As I rise from my seat, I take a moment to stretch my limbs, feeling the familiar urge to embrace my avian transformation after a prolonged hiatus. The anticipation surges within me, igniting a sense of exhilaration that courses through my being. Athenix observes with awe and wonder as I commence the mesmerizing transformation into my raven form.

With precise movements and a deep connection to the primal essence within me, I undergo the graceful shift, allowing my physical form to seamlessly transition into that of a majestic raven. The sensation of wings sprouting from my back, the sharp clarity of avian vision, and the freedom of flight all envelop me in a euphoric rush of liberation and power.

Athenix's eyes widen with admiration and astonishment as I unfurl my ebony feathers, a living embodiment of ancient mystique and untamed beauty.

"For a bird of death, you sure are a pretty one." I would feel a tinge of embarrassment if I were in my human form. I give a slight nod in her direction before quickly exiting through the rear of the tent. I glide gracefully through the air, feeling the breeze rustling through my wings. The exhilarating sensation of freedom that accompanies flight is a feeling I have dearly missed.

I plunge into the forest and swiftly soar through the air, searching for Henry and Duke Carmine.

I locate the Duke first, in his wild form, chasing a majestic stag. His wolf coat matches the hue of his locks. He exudes power and nobility, likely stemming from his regal lineage. With pride, he trails the deer beneath me.

Not too far from him, I discover Henry, fruitless in his hunt yet.

I then quietly shift in the tree above him. I quietly extend a hand towards his horse. "Alcrate tenebrae mortis." I murmur softly, and two arrows glide gently from his back towards me. Bringing his horse to a halt, he stands motionless for a moment, straining to hear. As the arrows rest in my grasp, he turns around, seeking out the faint sound they made.

I listen to the gentle rustling of leaves as Duke Carmine's elusive deer dashes through the forest, prompting Henry to ready his bow.

I ready the arrows as Duke lunges out from behind. "Alcrate tenebrae mortis." I whisper, and both arrows dart towards the Duke as Henry releases the bowstring.

The arrows found their mark on Duke Carmine during his leap, sending him crashing to the ground. A low hum followed by a menacing growl reverberated from his wolfish form. Locking eyes with Henry, whose expression betrayed a mix of shock and bewilderment, the Duke lunged towards him with ferocious agility, toppling him from his mount.

And so the battle began.

Henry swiftly transformed in an effort to evade the Duke's relentless onslaught. Though lacking the same level of expertise as his opponent, Henry's counterattacks were sluggish in comparison. Duke Carmine fought with a deadly purpose, while Henry struggled to merely keep pace. The adrenaline rushing through Duke Carmine's veins hides the fact that I've hit two major arteries.

Werewolves heal quickly, but two major arteries could be fatal if he doesn't end the fight soon. There is a limit to their healing abilities.

I contemplate leaving, not really wanting to see them fight, but I need to make sure they both fail.

Henry's relentless attacks gradually falter in the face of the Duke's escalating aggression. The intensity of their struggle reaches a critical point when the Duke seizes Henry by the throat, eliciting a pained sound from him. With a ferocious grip, Duke Carmine violently tosses Henry to and fro, each movement a testament to the raging emotions that stir within him.

Despite possessing the power to end Henry's life in that moment, the Duke's wrath, fueled by the deep-seated hurt of betrayal, compels him to prolong the torment. As Henry's physical resistance weakens, he eventually succumbs, his body going limp as he reverts to his human form. With an abrupt motion, Duke Carmine releases Henry's lifeless form, causing it to crumple to the ground.

Fatigue washes over the Duke as he staggers through the crimson-stained grass, his strength depleted to the point of collapse. Labored breaths escape his lips, his body a canvas splattered with a grim mixture of his own and Henry's blood. As consciousness slips away, his eyes shutter closed, the flicker of life dwindling until he, too, undergoes a transformation into his human guise.

As the metallic tang of blood permeates the air, my senses are overwhelmed, prompting a reflexive scrunching of my nose in revulsion. The lifeless form of Carmine lies at my feet, yet any semblance of remorse or regret eludes me, stubbornly out of reach. Strangely, gazing upon his vacant eyes feels akin to staring into the depths of my own father's gaze, a disconcerting parallel that chills me to the core.

Taking another's life, even one as twisted as Carmine's, leaves an indelible mark on my conscience. Yet, amidst the carnage, I find no wellspring of emotion within me—no sympathy, no empathy, only a cold void where such sentiments should reside. In that chilling moment of detachment, a disquieting realization dawns upon me: perhaps, like the wretched souls I've dispatched, I too am a monster lurking in the shadows.

With a heavy heart and newfound doubts gnawing at my conscience, I morph into my raven form, the weight of my actions heavy upon my feathery frame as I soar back towards Athenix's tent, seeking solace in the shadow of her presence.

*

I shift back into my human form as I enter through the back of the tent. Athenix looks at me with a glimmer in her eyes.

"It is done, Duchess Athenix."

The room feels heavy with silence as she gracefully lifts the delicate teacup to her lips. The steam curls around her face, and her expression remains stoic, revealing nothing of her inner thoughts. The clink of the cup against the saucer is the only sound in the room, creating an almost eerie atmosphere as we sit in the quietude.

I study her carefully, trying to decipher the emotionless facade she wears like a mask. Her eyes, deep pools of mystery, betray nothing as they meet mine briefly before looking away. There's a sense of detachment in the way she holds herself, as if she's a world apart from the reality around her.

"I thought I would feel free." She softly comments. "But I don't feel anything."

As she gingerly places the delicate teacup back onto the saucer, the clinking sound echoing through the small and lavishly decorated tent. A sense of urgency lingers in the air as she rises gracefully from her seat at the quaint tea table, her movements swift yet controlled. "Let's go," she announces firmly, her voice tinged with a hint of underlying tension. "We need to be seen with the rest of the nobles while the bodies are found."

Despite the weight of the situation pressing down on her, she tries to mask any signs of distress with a forced smile, her eyes betraying the facade of composure as she swallows hard. With a sense of unease lingering in the atmosphere, she sweeps out of the tent, her elegant gown trailing behind her. Sensing the gravity of the moment, I hasten to follow in her footsteps.

The delicate symphony of upper-class ladies' conversations envelops me as I emerge from the tent. Groups of women are gathered around circular tables, their laughter like gentle music complementing the aroma of tea wafting through the air. Meanwhile, vigilant knights patrol the boundaries, ensuring a peaceful atmosphere free from any potential disturbances.

"I pondered the moment our paths would cross." Our gazes lock, and Kyan grins as he approaches. He positions himself by my side, scanning the crowd of aristocrats.

"I shared a cup of tea with Lady Athenix, your majesty." He gazes in puzzlement at Athenix. I catch sight of her engaging in conversation with fellow aristocrats.

"I never expected such a strong connection between you two," he remarks, gazing at me intently. His eyes scrutinize me, bringing to mind Abigail's musings about soulmates, causing my jaw to tense as Kyan gently runs his fingers through my hair. Instinctively, I move away from his touch, sensing the curious stares of other aristocrats around us. Kyan's boldness is on the rise.

"Your majesty, you must stop seeking me. I am nothing but a Countess." After uttering those words, I pivot and begin to stroll away, yet his hand clasps onto my wrist.

A low growl rumbles through his chest. "Now, who was stupid enough to tell you that." His deep and menacing voice rumbles like thunder, prompting me to shoot him a skeptical glare.

"I do not want to play your games anymore. I know what I am to you." His gaze turns gentle, and his hold on my wrist eases a bit.

"We need to talk."

Escorted to his tent, he dismisses the crowd, leaving just us two. My pulse quickens in the intimacy of our solitude. Uncertain of my resolve when alone with him, I meet his gaze as his hand grazes my cheek, igniting a flurry of electric sensations. "When did you find out?" His eyes are filled with concern.

"Recently." Is all I can muster. "You're my mate."

***