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Your Excellency

A few days later

Aurora's mind was a whirlpool, caught in the relentless current of that one moment by the fountain. The image of the mysterious man lingered like a stubborn shadow, his chiseled abs and the dangerous yet perfect aura around him sending her thoughts into a tailspin. Athena's voice, calling from the garden, seemed distant, a faint echo compared to the vivid recollections of him.

The reverie shattered as the door to her room burst open with a resounding crack. Athena stood there, her expression a comical mix of exasperation and disbelief.

"You're still here?" she half-groaned, half-whined, her tone pitching like a child denied candy.

Aurora could only hum in response, the sound muffled by the pillow she clutched like a lifeline as she finally sat up, her limbs heavy with reluctance.

"Get up! The castle's summoned every maiden. We're running late!" Athena's urgency was palpable, but Aurora's face crumpled in confusion.

"Do I have to go? I don't even belong—"

"Shhhhhh!" Athena cut her off, her eyes darting around as if the walls had ears. "Keep it down. If anyone asks, you're my sister, alright?" Her voice was a hushed force, and Aurora nodded, the weight of the secret pressing down on her.

They left the room in a rush, their footsteps a hurried rhythm against the stone floor.

Minutes later, at the castle's grand veranda, Aurora stood amidst a sea of eager she-wolves. Her eyes scanned the crowd for him, the man from the fountain, but he was like a ghost—nowhere to be seen.

The click-clack of shoes against marble drew her gaze forward. Lady Astrid, the head maid, approached with an authoritative grace.

"Greetings, Lady Astrid," the maidens chimed, their voices a chorus of reverence.

"Who's that?" Aurora whispered to Athena.

"That's Lady Astrid, head maid," Athena whispered back, her eyes wide with a mix of respect and fear.

Aurora's mind raced. Why would Lady Astrid summon her if she wasn't even part of the castle staff?

"Ladies," Lady Astrid began, her voice cutting through the murmurs, "the alpha requires a maid. I've gathered you for selection..." She paused, allowing the gravity of her words to sink in. Excitement rippled through the maidens—after all, serving the alpha, the paragon of werewolf masculinity, was a coveted role.

But Aurora's attention was elsewhere, her gaze still searching for the man who'd imprinted himself on her memory.

"Hey..." Lady Astrid's stern voice snapped Aurora back to the present. She turned to face the head maid, a lump forming in her throat.

"Me?" she asked, even though she knew she was the one being addressed.

"What do you think you're doing? Daydreaming while I'm addressing you? Am I a joke to you?" Lady Astrid's reprimand was sharp, and Aurora felt the sting of embarrassment.

"The rest of you may leave. You, come with me," Lady Astrid commanded, turning on her heel and striding away. The other maidens shot envious glares at Aurora, their eyes like daggers of ice.

"Why does she want me?" Aurora whispered to Athena, a tremor of fear in her voice.

"Lady Astrid is no-nonsense. Just pray it's nothing bad. Hurry up, go after her. You really don't want her coming back for you," Athena urged, her voice laced with concern.

With a heavy sigh, Aurora stepped forward, her heart pounding as she walked towards an uncertain fate.

Alpha Lorenzo's oak-lined study

Rhea lounged in her chair, the picture of youthful impatience. "Father, when will we get a new maid?" she demanded, her voice echoing with the impertinence only an eleven-year-old alpha's daughter could muster.

Lorenzo, without lifting his eyes from the ancient tome before him, responded with a calm that commanded the room. "Astrid will handle it, Rhea."

"But when?" Rhea huffed, her brows knitting together in frustration. "The maids here are unbearable, and I can't stand them one bit..."

"That's because you're the unbearable one," Ares piped in, his nine-year-old wisdom cutting through the tension. He set aside his book, fixing his sister with a stare that held the promise of brotherly retribution. "They're fine until you start with your nonsense, and then, poof! They're gone."

Rhea's glare could have frozen fire. "Mind how you speak to me, Ares. Remember your place."

Ares rolled his eyes with the dramatic flair of a seasoned actor, but before he could retort, their father's voice boomed, "Enough!" Lorenzo's gaze was a laser, pinning Ares in place. "You are to protect your sister, not antagonize her."

Ares opened his mouth, no doubt to argue, but was cut off by Astrid's timely entrance. "Your Excellence, she's here," Astrid announced, gesturing to the figure behind her.

As Aurora stepped into the room, Lorenzo finally tore his gaze from his book, and his eyes locked onto the new maid. She was the spitting image of the woman from the fountain, yet he gave no sign of recognition.

"Astrid, leave us," he commanded, and the room seemed to hold its breath until the door clicked shut behind her.

"What's your name?" Lorenzo's voice was a velvet-edged blade, slicing through the silence and straight to Aurora's core.

"Aurora," she murmured, her pulse racing as she dared to meet his gaze.

"Do you approve, Rhea?" Lorenzo's attention shifted to his daughter, who sized Aurora up with a critic's eye.

"She seems decent enough. I'll test her out, but if she's not up to scratch, she's out," Rhea declared, her tone brokering no argument.

"And you, Ares?" Lorenzo turned to his son, who shrugged with a nonchalance that belied his years.

"I'm easy, Dad. Rhea's the picky one," Ares quipped, a smirk playing on his lips.

Aurora stood, caught in a whirlwind of confusion. Was this the same man from the fountain? He had the same commanding presence, the same piercing eyes, but not a flicker of recognition.

"As my children's maid," Lorenzo continued, his stare drilling into her, "don't cross them. I won't have my kids upset by anyone, especially not a maid."

His warning hung heavy in the air, and Aurora swallowed hard, her mind racing. He had to remember her, didn't he?

"When I speak, you respond," Lorenzo snapped, and Aurora jerked to attention.

"Yes, Your Excellence," she replied, bowing quickly, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was in the lion's den now, and survival meant playing by the alpha's rules.

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