Chapter 24: First Day Out

"So. Derek told you about Rosie."

Becky said it carefully, perched on the edge of the plush couch in Hazel’s chambers, hands folded in her lap. It wasn’t a question, but Hazel nodded anyway, arms crossed over her chest.

"He said he knew how she found out, who told her, I mean. He didn’t get to tell me more about how he found out before you barged in."

Becky’s lips pressed into a thin line, guilt flickering across her face before she smoothed it over. "Right. Well. I should probably explain the Derek thing too, then. Since you’re going to be seeing him around, apparently."

Hazel raised a brow. "You don’t have to."

"No, I want to." Becky exhaled slowly, gathering herself. "We dated. About—"

"Dated?" Hazel frowned.

Becky’s eyes widened. "Oh right. Dating means to go out with someone, to have romantic... feelings or a romantic relationship. Sort of like marriage but without it being official."

Hazel nodded. "Oh... so you two dated. How long ago?"

"Years ago." Becky said. "I was twenty-two, he was twenty-seven." A small, wistful smile ghosted over her mouth. "He was sweet, you know? Mischievous, always up to something, but genuinely caring underneath all that smugness. I actually really liked him."

"What happened?"

"He cut me off." Becky’s smile faded entirely. "Just... stopped answering my calls one day. No explanation, nothing. And then a few weeks later there was this whole scandal about him and some human woman, splashed across every gossip channel in the twelve packs." She shrugged, though the gesture looked stif. "I put two and two together. Figured he had been seeing her the whole time and just didn’t have the guts to tell me himself."

"Oh." Hazel didn’t know what else to say to that. "I’m sorry."

"It was a long time ago." Becky waved a hand, brushing it off, though something in her eyes said it wasn’t quite as buried as she wanted it to seem. She turned to Hazel with a curious look instead, clearly eager to change the subject. "Anyway, enough about my tragic backstory. How are things with you and Conan? He sounded like he was in a foul mood this morning."

Hazel’s expression shuttered instantly. "I don’t want to talk about him."

Becky raised both eyebrows, clearly reading between the lines. "That bad, huh? Let me guess." She held up a hand, counting off fingers dramatically. "He said something insensitive, didn’t apologize properly, and is now somewhere brooding like the world’s most attractive thundercloud."

Despite herself, Hazel felt the corner of her mouth twitch. "Something like that."

"That idiot." Becky shook her head, exasperated.

"Hmm," was all Hazel said. The memory of his harsh words to her the day before, briefly echoed in her head before she shut them out.

Becky clapped her hands together suddenly, like she was physically shaking off the heaviness that had settled over the room. "Okay, forget it. Let’s get our minds off all this doom and gloom for a while. Conan will handle Rosie, he’s terrifyingly efficient when he wants to be."

"I don’t care about Conan handling her. I want to slap her," Hazel muttered.

Becky burst into a genuine laugh at that. "Get in line."

Hazel allowed herself a small smile, the knot in her chest loosening just slightly.

"Speaking of which," Hazel said after a moment, "didn’t Conan ask you to teach me about being Queen? Duties, responsibilities, all of that?"

"He did." Becky waved a dismissive hand. "But not today. You have had enough thrown at you this week to last a lifetime, you need a breather before I start drowning you in etiquette lessons and pack politics. Today is just for you."

~

Hazel hadn’t expected to like the outfit as much as she did. ℴℴ𝘮

Becky had dressed her in a pair of soft, tailored trousers and a loose ivory shirt that hung just right on her frame. She explained what half the pieces even were, since Hazel had spent her entire life in servant’s rags, and modern clothing might as well have been a foreign language.

When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she almost didn’t recognize herself.

I look so pretty!

Becky pressed something into her palm, a phone, gleaming and unfamiliar in her hands.

"I got this for you," Becky said, already pulling up a screen to demonstrate. "Here, this is how you unlock it, this is your camera, and this—" she tapped an icon, "—is how you text me if you ever need anything."

Hazel turned it over in her hands, her chest warming. "Thank you," she said softly. "I’ve... I’ve always wanted a proper education, actually. Nobody ever thought it worth the trouble for a markless girl."

"Well, that changes now." Becky’s smile turned even brighter. "Fabulous timing too, because we’re about to go check out the university. It’s out here in Wexley, one of the best Lycan institutions in the realm."

She made a few quick phone calls, rapid and businesslike, before ushering Hazel toward the door.

By the time they reached the courtyard, Hazel counted four black vehicles trailing behind theirs and one leading the convoy ahead.

"Is all this really necessary?" Hazel asked, eyeing the procession warily as they climbed in.

"You are the Queen," Becky said simply, as if that explained everything. Which, Hazel supposed, it did.

Becky reached into her bag and produced a pair of sunglasses, sliding them onto Hazel’s face with a satisfied hum. "There. Makes you look adorable, and it’ll help with the staring too. Trust me, you’ll enjoy today."

"And if I don’t?"

Becky grinned. "Then at least you’ll know."

The car pulled away from the palace, and Hazel let herself sink back into the seat, watching the manicured hedges of Hellington palace blur past the window, the phone still warm in her hand.

~

The university came into view as they rounded the final bend, and Hazel actually gasped.

Towering white spires rose against the sky, framed by sweeping stone archways and rows of manicured trees leading up to a grand courtyard. Students moved in clusters across the plaza, laughter and chatter drifting faintly through the open car window.

"My goddess," Hazel breathed. "It’s gorgeous."

"Right?" Becky beamed, clearly pleased with the reaction. "Wait until you see the inside."

As they stepped out of the car, flanked immediately by a handful of guards who fell into step a respectful distance behind them, Hazel felt the first prickle of unease creep up her spine.

"Doesn’t everyone here know I’m the Queen?" she asked quietly, lowering her voice as they crossed the courtyard. "Wouldn’t they be....wary of me? Or disgusted? My scent isn’t exactly hidden."

"They might be," Becky admitted, not bothering to sugarcoat it. "But everyone’s absolutely terrified of Conan. Trust me, nobody here is going to say a single word out loud." She gestured subtly toward a group of unassuming students milling near a fountain, clearly not students at all, given the way their eyes tracked the surrounding rooftops. "And we’ve got people watching from multiple angles anyway. You’re safe here."

"Oh." Hazel swallowed. "Okay."

They passed a cluster of students near the entrance, and Hazel felt eyes land on her almost immediately, curious at first, then widening with recognition, then shifting into something colder as noses twitched and scents registered.

Someone gagged, quiet but not quiet enough.

"The Markless Queen," someone else whispered.

Hazel’s spine stiffened, but she kept her chin high, refusing to let the sting show on her face.

Becky glanced at her sideways, approval flickering in her eyes. "That’s the spirit."

She led Hazel toward the grand entrance doors, guards parting ahead of them—

Just as the doors swung open from the inside, and someone came barreling out, clearly in a hurry and clearly not looking where he was going.

He collided directly into Hazel.

They both went down in a tangle of limbs, Hazel’s sunglasses skidding across the marble.

"Sorry, sorry—!" the stranger sputtered, scrambling to right himself.

Hazel blinked up at him, momentarily stunned.

"Woah."