The next day was confusing. My emotions were all over the place and it was more than enough to make my head spin. I wanted to be with the king. I wanted to know everything about him, touch him, and tell him all the little details about me. I wanted him to kiss me all over until I could hardly breathe, then hold me tight against him. I was already baffled because my sexual experienced had caused me to be so drawn to him in such a heartfelt way. But at the same time I was angry that I let last night get to me so much. He had threatened me and my maids yesterday. He frequently dismissed me and ordered me around, making it obvious that he owned me, He told me nothing about himself or his life. The only thing I knew for sure about him was that he was a werewolf. And to be honest, I didn't know much about that either.

However, when dinner came I was determined to change that. I had been raised in ignorance because of my title, or lack thereof. But now he had no right to keep me in the dark. I was married to a werewolf, I should know something about him and his species, even if I had only been a little country slave before.

"What happened to your first wife?" I demanded, absently poking at some ham on my plate. The words came out before I overthought them and convinced myself not to say them, but they tumbled out quite awkwardly.

The king was startled by my question. He froze with his fork half way to his mouth and his eyes grew a fraction at my words. I would be lying if I said it didn't satisfy me a little bit to have the upper hand after all this time. Catching him off guard was not something I expected to do often, so seeing his expression made me feel a little proud of myself. He was always so stable and collected because he was the one who unsettled everyone and ruffled feathers. Unfortunately, the king recovered quickly, bringing his fork the rest of the way to his mouth and chewing before he answered me. I decided to do the same, but I held eye contact with him. I wanted him to think that I wasn't scared of him, despite the knots that were in my stomach, telling me otherwise.

"She left me in the middle of the night." He answered.

He looked like he was about to carry on eating or dismiss me and tell me not to bring it up again, but I decided to beat him to the chase. I deserved to know some things, and I would not let him dictate this conversation.

"Why would she leave you?"

"She never did tell me, but I imagine that it's because I'm a werewolf and she was a human. The two rarely mix and her father wasn't particularly fond of the joining which didn't help." He explained. He answered too fast, but I couldn't tell if he was angry, lying, or annoyed with me. Maybe it was a collection of all three and his wife was too delicate of a subject to touch.

I didn't care.

"But I'm human, why did you pick me?"

"I've told you before that I didn't pick you. The moon goddess did." he groaned.

"Who is the moon goddess?"

Now I was certain that King Archer was getting annoyed with me. I watched him closely when he bit his lower lip and his hands clenched tighter around his fork. Yes, I had been delighted that I was getting under his skin like he had been getting under mine, however, he was still the king. He could snap his fingers at any given moment and tell guards to drag me away to be hanged or beheaded. I wanted to peeve him just enough to make him frustrated, but not enough to make him snap.

"The moon goddess is the goddess of werewolves. She decides who we will be with for the rest of our lives." He grunted.

"And she picked me?"

"Evidently. I thought because I was only half werewolf that I wouldn't have a mate, so I married a human. Clearly, that did not work out, and now here you are."

"What are mates? And is the moon goddess alive? Is she a real person?" I questioned. My food was forgotten, I had my chin propped up on my elbows and I was leaning towards him, over the table.

"You've asked enough questions about werewolves for one night, no? Let's move on to another topic." His words were tight and clipped.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No." He didn't seem annoyed anymore. In fact it was like this question had taken him by pleasant surprise, but I wasn't trying to pester him either. Now that I had gotten him talking I was actually interested in what he had to say. Though I really wanted to understand more about the werewolf species I decided that getting to know my own husband would be just as useful. In all fairness it seemed confusing anyway.

"So you grew up all by yourself in this big castle? No one to run up and down the halls with and pester your parents?"

"No, it was just me and my mother and father. What about you, do you have siblings?"

The question hit me much harder than it should have. It was with that question that I realized how ignorant this man was to my life. My own husband knew nearly nothing about me and I knew nothing about him. If I had been a normal woman I would've met him somewhere or through someone in my life he would've courted me and by the time the ring was on my ring I would've known so much about him and his family and already have been so in love with him.

But I was not normal and the man in front of me didn't seem to truly want to get to know me. He knew the façade that I was carrying around, pretending like my life as a slave never happened. And with his single question the reality I had kept at bay came crashing back down.

I was no queen.

I was an impostor.

"I'm not sure." I choked.

"How can you not be su-" the king cut himself off, suddenly realizing what he had said and where I had come from. His brown eyes no longer looked as angry and his mouth didn't have such a sharp line to it, like thinking of my past had softened him somehow. Or he pitied me. "Willow, how did you become a slave? Is Willow even your real name?"

I stood up at his words. My hands were shaking. My stomach was rolling. My lower lip was trembling. "I think I've had enough food for one night. I'm going to retire to my bedchamber now." I announced, then looked at a guard who was stationed against a wall and held out my arm expectantly. My heart was pounding hard in my chest and I felt nauseous when his words replayed through my mind.

The guard hesitated, glancing at the king, but I didn't follow his gaze. Though I had no tears in my eyes I felt very close to crying and I did not want the king to see me so vulnerable. I just stared at the guard until he doubtfully walked over to me and ushered me out of the dining room. Once I was out of the room I sucked in a breath as if though my lungs had been constricted before. And on the walk back the guard said nothing which gave me time to get trapped in my own thoughts as I tried to grasp what had causes such an emotional response from me.

The king had grown up with this, all of this. The beautiful chandeliers, the staff that waited on his every wish, the grand hallways that were filled with paintings, and the stables that had more prized horses than any single man could ever have. He had two parents who raised him and presumably wanted to be a part of his life. I imagined that they loved him more than they loved anything else on this planet. He had the power to wave his hand and demand that all the women from the surrounding area should arrive at his house so he could have his pick. Every single person in this building was loyal to him and only him, should they not be they could easily be killed or taken care of in other manners. He had everything and he had grown up with everything.

I had grown up with nothing. One of my first memories was wandering around a city, looking for my mother who had abandoned me, worried that my fingers and toes were going to freeze and fall off. And after that a man had found me, tied my wrists to his carriage and forced me to walk around the city and surrounding villages until my master had decided to purchase me. Then it had been a life with disgusting food- but food nonetheless- and shackles around my ankles. Every night I reminded myself that I was blessed, I had a horse for a companion and straw to sleep on. Perhaps it wasn't the best, but I could manage it all. But that life did not paint a nice picture in comparison with the king's.

"Queen Willow?" James murmured, when the guard escorted me passed him.

It was the first time I had been called queen. I knew it was my title, I was married to the king after all, but I had never allowed the thought to surface. It was too much to think about the massive changes my life had undergone and hearing the title come from someone I would nearly call a friend was too much. I gently dismissed the guard that had walked me to my room, turned my back to James and slipped through the door.

My maids sensed there was something wrong the moment I stepped in, but no one said a word. I decided that I wouldn't either. I bit my lip and forced the tears to remain at bay while the maids began untying the corset and letting my hair out of its sharp updo. The frail blonde maid that helped me out of my slippers peered up at me and opened her mouth as if she were about to ask me what had troubled me so deeply. Lydia lightly stepped on her toes, warning her to stay silent. They left me alone as soon as I was in my night gown and I collapsed onto my bed.

I laid there for several hours, staring up at the intricate details etched into the ceiling, my mind so unsettled that I couldn't even force myself to shut my eyes and stay still. I wanted to cry, but something wouldn't allow me to shed the tears. I wanted to scream, but I knew better than to cause the ruckus. I wanted to sleep and think about all of these things with a fresh mind tomorrow, but I knew the king would be coming to see me tonight and every other night until I became pregnant. All I could think about was this world that I was trapped in. Maybe if I had been born as someone else the king still would've chosen me, or the moon goddess, and King Archer would've danced with me in his arms every night. He wouldn't want to send me away as soon as I was with child. Maybe, for once, I would actually be loved and cared for by someone who wanted me in their life. Maybe I wouldn't wake up every morning feeling like I was a cursed actress.

Well past midnight I heard my door open.

"Get out." I snapped, "I don't care that you're the king, I don't want you here tonight."

"It's me." James whispered into the darkness.