The Alpha's Temptation

Eltanin appeared bored as images of Morava flashed across his mind. “She is beautiful, just as the rumors had said. And well behaved like a princess.” He steepled his fingers under his chin and rested his elbows on the table. “She is fit to be a queen.”

A shocked sensation flitted down his chest, Rigel shook his head. “You are doing this under pressure. Don’t.”

Eltanin resumed eating the ham. “You were the one who wanted me to go with it. Why are you changing your stand?”

“Yes, but I was wrong…”

Eltanin didn’t reply and continued to slice more meat.

Seeing his reluctance to speak on the topic he dropped it, Rigel said, “The High Priest from Cetus Monastery is here along with the scribe. I don’t think you need to learn about ancient languages any longer. Should I send him back?”

Eltanin chewed the meat. Gulping it down he said, “No… I would like to see them. There’s no harm in getting them translated…”

Rigel shrugged and waved to a servant to fill his plate. The servant immediately brought out tomato and cream soup. He started eating and said, “I am planning on leaving tomorrow. So, should I leave the scribe here or should I take them with me to Orion?”

“No, there is enough space here to keep them hidden. Have you met with them yet?”

“No.” Rigel pursed his lips. I was so tired after yesterday night!” he chuckled. “I didn’t have the strength to meet them, but—” he pointed his spoon at a porcelain horse kept over a side table, “I should meet the High Priest at least. He will be upset otherwise. I have heard he is a touchy old man.” He dipped the spoon in the soup and filled it to the brim. “This always tastes so good!” he murmured. “And I would like you also to meet them. Even if it is a low-profile visit, the fact that he has personally escorted his scribe carries great importance.”

Eltanin scoffed. “I told you. He probably didn’t want to let go of the chance to meet me.”

“Probably,” Rigel shrugged. “But nonetheless, you have to make time for him.” The servant removed the soup bowl and replaced it with another plate. He served him roasted duck along with boiled, salted and peppered peas and cauliflower. “You have to meet the scribe to make sure they understand everything you are asking of them. How about we meet with them tonight?” He said, while closing his eyes and savoring the sweet roasted meat. Admiring the cooks of Draka Palace once again. He had tried to steal the cook once, but had refused.

“Tonight, a ball will be held in honor of Princess Morava.” Eltanin pursed his lips and looked away briefly. “My presence will be required.” ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​

“Then how about tomorrow morning?” Rigel insisted. “I am leaving in the morning, so you better make it before I leave.”

“Okay,” Eltanin said, his voice drawling of boredom. He contemplated whether he should even meet the scribe or just send his most trusted spy with a book to them. But the High Priest was here. He couldn’t ignore that old man. Menkar was cold and conceited. Eltanin had heard the horrendous tales of how he treated his slaves. “I will meet with him briefly in the library.”

“That suits me fine,” Rigel said with a smile.

Eltanin couldn’t even understand as to why the smell of his fae became slightly stronger than before today. Was he imagining things? He had gone to the guest room and sat there for a while in order to calm his nerves, but just the opposite happened. He was certain that her mouthwatering smell had etched in his mind to the extent that it was out of his control. Anxiety increased multifold. Was it possible that she was nearby?

In the evening, as Eltanin neared the Great Hall, he heard sounds of a ballad, his stomach plummeting to the floor. He couldn’t forget why he was here.

The guards announced him and opened the wyvern carved doors. When he stepped inside he saw the familiar wreaths and candles that adorned the enormous hall. As soon as he entered, everyone in the room became quiet. They parted ways to clear a path for him and bowed as he passed by them. He saw the princess at the front of the crowd, along with his father and King Biham. As soon as their gazes met, she bowed to him.

Wearing an exuberant amount of pink silk, hair adorned with combs and pearls that sparkled in the bright light, Morava looked elegant. His eyes went to the two girls who flanked her. They too bowed to him and then looked at him with curiosity. Eltanin greeted Biham, saying nothing else, tension radiated off him. The music had gone silent and there was a murmur amongst the guests.

It was Alrakis who came to him and whispered into his ear, “The king must do the first dance. Why don’t you invite Morava to the floor?”

Eltanin looked around with pursed lips and noticed how people watched him curiously. It’s not that he didn’t know that he had to do the first dance, or what was expected of him, it was just that he didn’t want to. This hall reminded him of his fae once again and all he could do was subdue the unease that threatened to rise within him. He was becoming obsessed… unhealthily. With a shaky breath he nodded, stepped to the left of Morava and extended his hand. He said, “Would you grace me with a dance?” His voice was thin, barely audible.

Morava’s eyes lit up. She nodded vehemently and then corrected herself immediately. She dipped in a bow and then took his hand. Eltanin led her to the center of the dance floor under the observant eyes of the nobility that was present in the hall. As soon as they stopped in the center, with hands positioned, the music began to play on a low note. Eltanin took the first step and Morava followed him. As the music picked up its pace, Eltanin whirled her around in a formal way and the others soon joined them on the dance floor.

“You dance extraordinarily well” ,” Morava remarked as she looked up at him with her heavily red kohled eyes.Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

“Thank you,” he replied coldly.

“I would love to have another dance with you,” she said in a suggestive voice.

Eltanin whirled her and when he took her hand again, he excused himself, “I need to have a word with Prince Rigel after this.”