Alaric's POV

My eyes scanned the crowd. My pulse was a drum of anxiety. I had lost sight of her.

I told myself she was safe with Thomas. Now the air felt thin. Every face in the market looked like a threat. Every shadow felt like an assassin.

I stood in the center of the square. I ignored the people pushing past me. I was the Alpha of Blackwood. Yet I felt like a child lost in a storm.

Then I saw her.

Sophie was running toward me. Her face was bright with a smile. She wanted me to stop worrying.

But behind her a figure moved. A man in a dark tunic lunged. He struck her from behind.

My wolf instincts took over. Time slowed. I did not think. I moved.

I bridged the distance in a blur of motion. Sophie was falling. Her body was inches from the ground. I reached out. I caught her.

I pulled her against me. One of my hands gripped her waist. The other went around her neck. To steady her head.

We stood frozen. The noise of the market vanished. I only heard the sound of her rapid breathing. The heat radiating between us.

I looked into her eyes. They were wide and dark. I saw my own reflection in them. I saw the intensity of my own hunger to keep her safe.

We stayed like that for a long moment. I did not want to let go. I felt a strange peace holding her.

It was a peace I had never known. My palace is a place of stone and secrets.

A sharp forced cough broke the silence.

I blinked. I looked up. Thomas and Roland were standing right in front of us.

Thomas had a smirk on his face. Roland looked at the sky. He pretended he was interested in the clouds.

Sophie gasped. She released herself from my grip. She stepped back. Her face turning a deep shade of red.

"Thank you." She whispered.

She looked down at the ground. Her flowers had fallen during the struggle.

She dropped to her knees. She tried to pick them up.

I did not stay standing. I bent down to help her. My large hands felt clumsy against the delicate petals. We gathered them together.

"I bought these for you." Sophie said.

She held the bundle out to me.

"You should put them in a vase. Nurture them well."

I took the flowers. I felt a smile tug at my lips. I am a King. People give me gold. They give me land. They give me blood. No one has ever given me a flower. Just to nurture it.

"You were thinking of me." I said.

It was not a question.

"I wanted to say thanks for the bag." she said.

"I also got something for you." I replied.

I gestured to Roland.

The Chief Guard stepped forward. He held a small polished wooden box. I had found a set of high quality knives. It was at a specialty forge in the market. They were balanced and sharp. They were tools fit for a master.

Sophie opened the box. Her eyes lit up. She thanked me. With genuine joy that made my heart full.

"Let us return." I commanded.

"The sun is high."

We started the walk back to the palace. We talked about the flowers. Sophie told me how to keep them alive.

She spoke of soil and water as if they were poetry. I listened to every word. I enjoyed the sound of her voice. Even more than the silence of my throne room.

We reached the palace gates. The atmosphere changed. The stone walls felt cold again. I turned to Sophie.

"Go have your rest." I said softly.

"You have done enough today."

I watched her walk toward her quarters. She was happy. She looked over her shoulder. She waved at me. I felt a sense of peace I could not explain.

"Your Majesty." A voice barked.

I turned. Cassian was rushing toward me. He looked frantic. His hair was messy. He was sweating.

"Finally you are back." Cassian said.

I gave him a hard look. I did not speak. I waited for him to explain his panic.

"The elders gathered for the morning assembly." Cassian panted.

"They were asking for you. They wanted to discuss the border taxes."

"And what did you tell them?" I asked.

"I told them you were sick." Cassian said.

I stared at him. "Sick?"

"Yes. It was the only thing I could think of."

"Cassian." I said.

My voice dropping.

"Of all excuses you could give. You chose to say I am sick? The royal healer checked me a few days ago. The elders know I am in perfect health. How can the Alpha King be sick?"

"At least I handled it." Cassian argued.

"They left. They were grumbling. But they left."

He reached into his tunic. He brought out a short note. It was sealed with heavy wax.

"Queen Mother Isolde sent this." Cassian said.

He handed it to me. I broke the seal. I recognized the sharp handwriting of my step mother. I read the letter quickly.

Young Prince Daemon wants to dine with the Alpha King tomorrow. He has heard much about the Ghost Chef. He wishes to see her for himself.

I folded the paper. My jaw tightened.

Daemon was my half brother. He was the son of my father's other woman. He was the one the council wanted on the throne. They saw me as a tyrant. They saw me as a monster that needed to be replaced.

Why would they want him to dine with me now? Why would they want him to see Sophie?

I looked at the palace spires. I felt the shadows closing in.

Is this a real request for family bonding? Or is this a trap set to catch the Chief Royal Chef in their web of poison?

Elara's POV

The stone of the corridor felt like ice against my spine. I pressed my body into the uneven surface of the wall. I held my breath. Every second felt like an hour.

Just a few feet away. The heavy boots of the King clicked against the floor. I watched through a narrow gap in the masonry.

My eyes were fixed on the movement of hands. Cassian stood with Alaric. I saw Cassian reach into his tunic. He pulled out a small note.

The parchment was yellowed. The wax seal was a deep royal purple. I heard the name fall from Alaric's lips.

Queen Mother Isolde.

I watched Alaric's face. It shifted into a mask of suspicion. He did not look in my direction. He does not look at me at all anymore.

To him I am a threat. I am a nuisance to be ignored. I waited until their footsteps faded toward the keep.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I could not ask the King what the message said. He would only sneer.

He would see my curiosity as a weapon.

I turned and rushed toward the north wing. I needed the Queen Mother's quarters.

Information is the only currency that matters in this palace. Without it, you are a servant. With it, you are a master.

I navigated the dim hallways. The air here was different. It was thick with the scent of old lavender and stagnant power.

I reached her double doors. The wood was carved with the symbols of the old moon. I smoothed my skirts. I forced my breathing to slow.

I entered without being summoned. Isolde sat in her high-backed chair near the window. The moonlight caught the silver in her hair.

She looked at me with judgmental eyes. She did not offer me a seat. She did not offer me wine.

"You have never visited me before Elara." Isolde said.

Her voice was like dry parchment rubbing together.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"We are not quarreling Your Majesty." I replied.

I forced a smile. I made my voice soft and melodic.

"We have always been on good terms. I have simply been busy with the Alpha King. His needs are many."

Isolde let out a short sarcastic laugh. She tapped her ring against the arm of her chair.

"The same Alpha King who now sees you as a threat?" She asked.

I did not let the insult show in my eyes. I did not get angry. Anger is a weakness that reveals your cards.

I needed her to speak. She was a piece in the game Magnus and I were playing. She would play a great role.

"It is the ghost chef." I said.

I sighed deeply.

I looked at the floor as if I were a grieving lover.

"She is taking the King's eyes away from me. She uses her strange spices to cloud his mind. With time, he will return to the only woman who can comfort him. He will remember who stood by him when he had nothing."

Isolde leaned back. She looked satisfied by my supposed misery. She enjoyed seeing the favorite fallen from grace.

"We have all heard of the ghost chef." She said.

"The kitchen smells like a foreign land. Even Prince Daemon seeks to dine with the Alpha King tomorrow. He wants to taste her meal for himself. He wants to know if the rumors of her skill are genuine."

I acted surprised. I widened my eyes. I let my mouth hang open slightly.

"Really?" I asked.

In my heart, I smiled. I had the information.

The young prince wanted to dine with the King. That was the message. She had given me exactly what I needed without knowing it. The trap was forming in my mind.

"Why would you let the Young Prince eat the food of a ghost?" I asked.

I made my voice sound worried. I leaned forward as if to protect the boy.

"She is an outsider. We do not know her origins."

"We have all eaten her food." Isolde replied.

She shrugged her thin shoulders.

"Nothing happened to us. The Alpha is still standing. I do not think it is a bad idea. Daemon is curious."

"I must go." I said.

I stood up quickly.

The silk of my gown hissed against the rug.

"It is getting late. I only came to greet you. I wanted to let you know we are at peace. I want no enemies in this house."

"Why leave so soon?" She asked.

She looked suspicious of my haste.

"It is late." I said.

"And I have much to prepare for tomorrow."

I fled from her quarters. I did not look back. I rushed to my chamber.

My mind was a storm of calculations. I grabbed my heavy wool coat from the chest. I pulled the hood over my head. I needed to be a shadow.

I had a great idea to destroy the ghost chef once and for all. This was the opening I needed.

I headed for the Secretariat of Grand Prince Magnus. I moved through the shadows of the servant halls. I avoided the main torches.

I reached his heavy oak door. I entered without knocking. The room was hot and smelled of fermented grain.

Magnus was sitting close to the fire. He was drinking from a silver goblet. He looked like a man drowning in a stupor. His eyes were bloodshot. His tunic was stained.

Anyone who saw him would think he's useless and foolish. They would see a drunkard. They would not know he is the mastermind behind the chaos.

He laughed when he saw me. It was a drunken, grating sound that filled the room.

"I told you to stop visiting me." Magnus said.

He slurred his words.

"Someone will see you. Then our little play ends."

"What I have to discuss cannot wait." I said.

I pulled my hood back. My face was flushed with the cold.

"What is so important?" He asked. He took another long swallow of wine.

"I have a way to destroy the ghost chef once and for all." I told him.

I stood over him. I blocked the light of the fire.

Magnus waved a hand dismissively. He stared into the flames.

"I am already getting my trained rogues ready for that. They will snatch her from the market or the path. It is simple."

"No." I said.

I shook my head.

"This is the best way. No one can trace it back to us. No blades. No kidnappings."

He paused. He looked at me over the rim of his cup. The drunken fog in his eyes cleared for a moment. He saw the fire in mine.

"Which way can we use that would not be traced?" He asked.

"Young Prince Daemon wants to dine with the King tomorrow." I explained.

I watched his face for a reaction.

"We will use the food she prepares to trap her in Queen Mother Isolde's wrath. We will make the boy the weapon."

Magnus laughed again.

"How?" He asked.

"She is a perfectionist. She does not leave the kitchen until the food is served. We cannot poison the food. Poison is clumsy. It leaves a trace in the blood. The royal healer is not a fool."

"We are not tempering with the food." I whispered.

I leaned closer to him. I could smell the stale ale on his breath.

"The ghost chef always uses ginger when she prepares a meal. It is her signature. She thinks it cleanses the palate. She uses it in almost every dish she serves to Alaric."

I looked at the fire. My plan was perfect. It was a work of art.

"There is something we can add to the young prince's medications." I said.

Magnus was the one supplying the boy's medicine. He controlled the apothecary.

"It is something that is poison but not poison. It is simply rat poop. On its own, it does nothing. But when mixed with ginger, it causes the throat to close. It causes the heart to erratic. It looks like a sudden, violent illness."

Magnus's eyes widened.

He set his goblet down on the small table. He sat up straight.

"You are truly a viper." He said.

He let out a loud, dark laugh that echoed off the stone walls.

"We can sicken the prince without being caught. It is not an actual poison. It is a biological reaction. The healer will find nothing but the ingredients of a meal. The ghost chef will be the one who cooked it. The Queen Mother will demand her head for harming the boy."

I smiled. The plan was set. The boy would eat. The girl would fall. I would remain the only one left to comfort the King.

Alaric's POV

The morning sun broke through the curtains of my chamber. It casted golden streaks across the floor.

I woke up with a sensation. I had not it felt in years. I was happy. My mind immediately went back to the market square.

I could still feel the weight of Sophie in my arms. I remembered the way her pulse jumped when I caught her. I remembered the scent of her hair. It was like wild herbs and rain.

I lay there for a moment. I stared at the ceiling. I let the memory settle. I am a King who has spent his life expecting blades. To hold something so vital felt like a shift in the foundations of my world.

A knock disturbed my thoughts. It was Roland. I recognized the disciplined strike of the Chief Guard.

"Your Majesty." Roland's voice came through the thick wood.

"The Young Prince is ready to see you. He is waiting in the leisure garden."

I sat up. I cleared the sleep from my throat.

"Give the Alpha a second to prepare." I commanded.

I stood up. I grabbed my tunic. It was a deep crimson wool. I pulled it over my shoulders.

I called for the maids. They entered with silent. Their movements practiced. They arranged my attire. They fastened the buckles of my belt. They smoothed the fabric of my cloak.

I looked at myself in the bronze mirror. I looked like a King. But inside I felt like a man who was finally beginning to breathe.

I left my chamber. My boots echoed in the corridors. I walked toward the leisure garden. It was a private expanse of greenery hidden within the palace walls.

I found Young Prince Daemon there. He was sitting on the stone bench. He was kicking his small legs. His face lit up when he saw me.

He is a boy full of energy. He is the opposite of the shadows that define this court.

"Brother." Daemon said.

He stood up. He bowed with a clumsiness that was almost charming.

"We do not dine together more often. I see you in the hall. But you are always surrounded by men with sour faces."

I sat across from him. I felt a rare pang of guilt.

"We eat the same food Daemon. The kitchens serve the same bounty to us all."

"That is not true." The boy argued.

He crossed his arms.

"I am given specific food because they say I am young. It is bland. It is boring. And eating together is different from eating separately. Food tastes better when you have someone to talk to."

I laughed. It was a deep sound. I realized he was right. I had spent my life eating in silence. Or staring at my enemies.

"I promise you." I said.

I reached out. I ruffled his hair.

"We will eat together more often now. I will make sure of it."

I looked toward the palace entrance. I saw Sophie approaching. I had summoned her earlier.

She walked with a grace that was becoming familiar. She looked at the Young Prince with curiosity.

"Sophie." I said.

I gestured for her to come closer.

"This is Young Prince Daemon. I want you to prepare something special for us today. I loved the meal you made for Grand Prince Magnus. It was exceptional. But I want you to make it differently this time. Show the Prince your skill. Add a side dish."

Sophie nodded.

Her eyes were bright.

"I understand Your Majesty. I will prepare something that fits a Prince's palate."

She turned. She headed for the kitchen. Her pace was brisk. She always looked like she was on a mission when food was involved.

Daemon watched her go.

"So that is the ghost chef? The one the servants whisper about? They say she fell from the moon."

"She is not a ghost." I told him.

I leaned back against the stone.

"She is just a woman from a far away land. Her world is different from ours."

"She looks like a person." Daemon noted.

"I would love to eat what you eat every day. I am tired of mashed grains and boiled mutton."

"You will see." I said.

"She does not cook like the others."

We sat in the garden for an hour. We talked about horses. We talked about the wooden sword he practiced with.

He was a little boy. He just wanted to talk to his brother. He didn't care about taxes. He didn't care about border disputes. He just wanted to know if I could teach him how to ride a horse.

Soon the scent reached us. It was savory. It was complex. Sophie appeared at the end of the walkway.

She was leading a small procession. She held a large silver tray. Two other chefs followed behind her. They each carried trays covered in linen. It looked like a buffet fit for a coronation.

They reached the table. They bowed together in unison.

"Your Majesty the food is ready." They said.

I gestured for them to set the table. They moved quickly. They laid out the plates and the silverware.

I looked at the trays. Then I looked at the royal taster who was standing nearby. He was ready to take the first bite.

"Leave us." I commanded.

I looked at the taster.

"All of you. I want to eat with my brother in private."

The servants bowed. They all retreated.

Only Sophie remained standing by the table. I looked at the main dish. It was beautiful.

"Tell me what you have prepared." I said.

"It is a chicken dish." Sophie explained.

She pointed to the golden-brown meat.

"It is different from the one I served the Grand Prince. I have used ginger. I used other medicinal herbs inside the bird. I cooked it slowly. Until the meat was soft. Then I used pumpkin water to coat the skin. I poured hot oil over it. To create a crunch on the outside."

I looked at Daemon. He was already salivating. He was staring at the chicken like it was made of gold.

"What about the sauce?" I asked.

"The root I used last time." She said.

"I brought it fresh today. You can chew the root for its health benefits while using the sweet sauce for the poultry."

I looked at Daemon.

"Do you understand what she said?"

"No." He answered honestly.

"But it smells better than anything I have ever seen."

"Cut the chicken." I told him.

"It is soft. Dip it in the sweet sauce."

Sophie stepped forward.

"Wait. Let me taste it first."

She took a small bite of the chicken. She dipped it in the sauce and ate it. She waited a few seconds.

She was ensuring the food was perfect.

After she nodded. Daemon did not hesitate. He cut a large piece. He dipped it deep into the sauce. He stuffed it into his mouth.

"Hmmmm." He moaned.

"This is delicious! It's like magic."

I laughed. I took a piece for myself. The crunch of the skin was perfect. The ginger was subtle but warming.

"This is what we enjoy every day since Sophie arrived." I told him.

I pointed to the fresh root on the side.

"Eat the root Daemon. It is part of the experience."

He grabbed a piece. He bit into it. His face immediately twisted. He looked like he had bitten into a lemon.

"It's bitter!" He cried.

Sophie smiled. It was a soft kind of expression.

"Roots are often bitter, Little Prince. But they are good for the body. They make you strong."

"I will only eat the sweet one." Daemon declared.

He went back to the chicken. He was stuffing his mouth as if he hadn't eaten in a week.

"Gentle." I warned him.

"Do not choke. The food is not going anywhere."

I turned to Sophie.

"What is the side dish?"

"They are called Macarons." She said.

She pointed to a plate of small colorful rounds.

"They are like delicate biscuits. I have stuffed them with vanilla cream."

"That is enough." I said.

I didn't understand what Macrons are. I don't even know what biscuits are either. I felt a surge of pride in her skill.

"We shall enjoy the rest of this in peace. Sophie once you are done in the kitchen. Meet me at the royal farm by nightfall. I have something to show you."

She nodded. She curtsied and left the garden.

Daemon and I finished the meal. The maids cleared the plates. He was covered in crumbs and sauce. He looked happier than I had ever seen him.

"I want to do this every day." He said.

"We will try." I promised.

Roland arrived to escort the Young Prince back to Queen Mother Isolde's quarters. I watched them walk away.

I felt light. I went back to my chamber. I picked up my journal. The Ledger of Satiety. I sat at my desk and began to draw the meal.

I captured the shape of the Macarons. I wrote down the word 'Ginger.' I wanted to remember this day.

Evening fell over the Blackwood Kingdom. The sky turned a bruised purple. I left the palace. I headed for the royal farm. It was quiet there. The horses were settled.

I stood in the clearing where Sophie fell on me. I walked through the motions again. I remembered how I caught her at the market. I practiced how I would hold her again. I imagined her falling and me being there to catch her. I found myself smiling at the empty air. I was acting like a fool but I did not care.

I waited. One hour passed. The moon rose high. The crickets began their song. Sophie did not come.

I started to wonder. Perhaps she was delayed in the kitchen. Perhaps she was tired.

But a feeling of dread began to crawl up my neck. Sophie was never late. She was disciplined.

I saw a torch flickering in the distance. It was moving fast. It was Roland. He was running.

My heart hammered. I stepped forward.

"Roland? Where is she?" I asked.

Roland stopped. He was out of breath. His face was pale.. He looked at me with eyes full of grave news.

"Your Majesty." He gasped.

"You must come quickly."

"What happened?" I demanded.

I grabbed his shoulder.

"It's the Chief Royal Chef." Roland said.

"What happened to her?" I demanded.

My heart skipped a beat.

"She has been arrested. She is in the palace prison."

The world went cold. The smile vanished from my face. I felt the wolf inside me growl.