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She’d left the palace’s keepers instructions to air out her chambers before she’d gone to meet her father, and was pleased to find they’d worked quickly.

As daughter of the captain, she was afforded a suite much more luxurious than the guest suite Zennon had been allocated and even with the chill air from the open windows, it was comforting to be back in the familiar space.

The set-up wasn’t too different from the guest room, only Neah’s was bigger and came with an adjoining parlour area as well as a bathing chamber.

She’d chosen the tapestries on the walls herself, sweeping landscapes hand-painted featuring the forest below throughout the seasons, as well as the leather armchairs in front of the hearth in the parlour.

There was also a small row of bookcases, filled with books on martial arts and sword play as well as romances that she’d snuck into her bedroom as a teen.

It was like returning to a version of herself she’d nearly forgotten had existed.

But here was the proof, the ghost of her soul spread about the room freshly dusted and polished, like it had been waiting for her all along.

Zennon had opted to stay in her chambers for the next few hours with a guard posted outside of her door but would be coming to see Neah soon with options for what to wear tonight.

They’d received word of a feast that evening that the king had organised and, despite her weariness, Neah knew they had to go.

Not only did she need to protect Zennon, but Neah was also keen to keep an eye on the king.

For Zen’s sake, she needed to know what kind of man Wren truly was.

What about for your own sake?

She pushed the thought away, taking advantage of the momentary privacy to strip off the oppressive dress she’d worn for the sake of breakfast and padded over to the adjoining bathing chamber to find a bath already waiting for her. Goddess, but the palace keepers were good .

It had been a while since she’d had the time to soak and she took full advantage of it then. At Zennon’s, her bath had been perfunctory, necessary to remove the traces of blood from her person, and less than skillfully drawn seeing as she’d been the one to throw it together.

But this? Bliss.

Her worries, and thoughts of Zennon, and the king, and her father’s beleaguered state, all fled her as she breathed in the steam and stretched the full length of her body out beneath the water. For now, without prying eyes and court expectations, she could just be herself.

Breaths slowing, she relaxed incrementally until her limbs floated weightless in the water.

Her skin smelled like the cinnamon soap she’d left behind that had been her favourite growing up and it wasn’t until her fingers and toes started to wrinkle that she reluctantly stood and climbed out of the tub.

Unlike the freestanding bath Zennon had at her estate, this one was built into the wall and the water drained away with ease as she towelled herself off and added another old favourite to her skin and hair—golden honey oil with added jasmine.

The scent was sweet and fresh at the same time and she inhaled deeply as she combed it through her long hair, focusing on the lightened ends that sometimes dried out in the summer.

After the oil had soaked in, leaving her skin shimmering and smooth, she made use of the chamber pot and approached the armoire in her bedroom.

She’d filled out since last she’d seen these clothes, her breasts fuller, her hips rounder, and she was a good amount taller too.

It was likely that nothing in there would fit.

As if she’d heard the thought, a knock came at the door to her chambers and Neah smiled.

Zennon’s timing was impeccable. Neah slipped on a silky robe that just reached the tops of her thighs and walked toward the parlour.

It was only Zennon, who had seen Neah in worse states of undress than a too-small robe.

Except, when she opened the door it was not to the sight of familiar brown eyes.

Instead, golden ones widened as they took in her scantily clad form and Neah cursed under her breath. “Your Majesty. I’m sorry. I was expecting someone else.”

The king hadn’t looked away from her, his eyes dropping to the damp spot her hair was making on the material above her breasts and then lower to the peaches and cream of her long legs. He swallowed hard and a muscle in his jaw ticked, as if her words irked him. “Please, call me Wren.”

“Wren,” she allowed, curiosity rearing its head as his eyes did their best to swallow her up. “Are you looking for Zennon? She should be here any moment.”

Was that relief that flitted across his face? Had he thought she’d been expecting a different kind of company? Why should he care?

“No, actually I was looking for you. I wanted to apologise for my behaviour at breakfast. I was a little out of sorts.” He ran a hand through his chin-length hair and appeared to be doing his best not to let his eyes slip down past her chin.

“But I fear I’ve made a bigger mess of things now by bothering you while you’re… ” He swallowed. “Indisposed.”

A smirk tugged at her mouth and she did her best to hide it as he sucked in his bottom lip and let his eyes flick down just once before he screwed them shut.

“Not at all.” What was she saying? Why was she torturing the poor man? King or not, he was clearly uncomfortable. “I was getting ready for the feast. I appreciate your apology, though I don’t feel it's warranted. Zennon tells me I can be abrasive in my protectiveness.”

“Right. Well, I’ll just leave you to–to that .

” He waved a hand towards her body and then looked pained, as if this were not at all how he’d imagined this conversation going.

“And I’ll see you at the feast.” She nodded, amused when he turned around so quickly he must have been dizzy, and then hid her smile when he glanced back at her.

“Oh, and wear comfortable shoes. There will be dancing afterwards.”

Joy. “Thank you for the warning.”

He chuckled and the sound was pleasant, warm and deep, and the animal inside her seemed to stretch languidly in response, watching through her eyes like the king was prey she wouldn’t mind tasting.

Neah closed the door sharply, uncomfortable with the way her beast reacted to him.

Normally she experienced small twinges every now and then, but beyond her heightened senses she could have passed for human.

But something about the king and what lurked under his skin called to the part of her trapped beneath hers—and that worried her more than the depth of his laugh or the gleam of hunger in his eyes.

She’d given up on ever being able to shift, what would it mean if he was the one who brought it out of her?

This time when the knock at the door came, she called out first and was relieved to hear Zennon’s voice through the wood. As soon as she stepped inside, Neah vowed to forget the encounter with the king and instead focus on getting through the night.