Red's Wolves

Chapter One

Alera should have known better than to think she'd be able to have a day completely to do as she wanted.

As it was, she had spent too long in the stables with Jere, the stableboy who seemed to be the only person at court not only of her age but who actually cared to spend time with and listen to her rather than ignoring her and running the other way whenever she was too close. She knew her father wanted her at court that day, she just happened to get lost in conversation with Jere about anything else other than what her father wanted. As it was, it wasn't until the stable master had returned from the day's training that Alera remembered the time and was on her way up a rarely used back set of stairs to return to her room without anyone noticing her presence.

She dressed quickly into an outfit that had been laid out for her most likely since the morning, and she let out a sigh of frustration as she began to put it on. Silently she cursed Brigette, who only seemed to make herself present when she needed to correct Alera when she was doing something wrong rather than being there when she needed her help the most. At least the bodice could be tied in the front, and the ridiculous headpiece she was required to wear was easy enough to place on her own head. She checked herself on in the mirror, declared herself looking more like a brocade sofa than a princess, and after removing a piece of rogue hay from her hair, hurried from her room to find her father.

She could only imagine what he could possibly want to see her about this time. Had he discovered how much time she had been spending in the stables lately? She thought the stable master could be trusted, but maybe now she wasn't so sure. Or had Brigette informed him of her poor focus on her studies lately? She wouldn't pass it by the superstitious maid.

Whatever it was, it seemed as though every day was something new that Alera had done to deserve the wrath of King Roland. She tried her best to walk on eggshells around him, but most days, especially when his grief got the better of him, there wasn't much she could do to steel herself against his temper.

She knew he still missed her mother. They both did. But she also often considered that some days he wished it was Alera who had passed than his true beloved.

The large doors to the throne room were in sight much sooner than Alera would have hoped. Though there were two guards standing on either side, neither of them offered to open the doors for her. In fact, neither opted to look in her general direction either.

Which made her all the more nervous. Was she the only one in that whole castle who didn't know what her father wanted with her?

She was about to push them open when Brigette hissed at her as she approached from the opposite hallway.

"Did no one teach you how to dress yourself properly?" the maid murmured as she began untying and retying the bodice of Alera's dress.

"I wouldn't have had any issues if someone was there to help me." She glared at the maid.

If Brigette noticed, she didn't make it known. "If someone arrived when her father told her to, she wouldn't need help." She pulled the strings of the corset tight, taking Alera off guard and losing her breath just enough to not be able to answer back.

Brigette straightened and turned her attention to the headpiece on Alera's head. She scoffed as she fussed with it, setting it back on her head as if she straightened it when Alera knew it was fine to begin with.

"There, now you look somewhat presentable for the court. Whatever you do, don't anger your father. It's the last thing any of us need right now?"

"Why am I even here?" she asked over her shoulder as Brigette began to shuffle her through the throne room doors.