Heart of the Wolf Prince

Chapter 11a

My muscles ache. It feels like I've been in this cramped space for hours, but I know it's been no more than ten minutes.

I try to keep my breaths even, but between the crushing anxiety in my chest and the limited amount of oxygen this space has to offer, it's difficult. Which is fair, because it's not every day you find yourself hiding in the rafters of the king's council room with the intent to spy on him. But hey, first time for everything, right?

I push myself up further back against the wooden planks of the small crawlspace I'd used to get in here. Kohl has told me all about it at our little rendezvous before he'd given me this assignment. Apparently, he'd used the crawlspace – which had been secretly carved out by Kohl himself – to spy on his father when he was younger. But being the tall 6'3 of muscle that he is now, he can no longer fit. I can, though, which made me perfect for the job.

I ran the mission through my head as I risked a peek into the room. Kohl had told me he'd seen weird meetings occurring between the king and the general at the dead of night, and wanted me to investigate.

Sure enough, the king was lazing at his long, mahogany table, its polished surface glimmering with the gold-and-orange flickers of the torches of the room. His black hair works well with the dark slate walls around him, not a window in sight. This close, watching the king from where he can't see me – provided he doesn't look up – I can see the similarities between him and Kohl. They have the same, cutting features, and I have to wonder what features Kohl got from his mother. After all, he and his father look practically identical aside from his father's black beard and sallow skin.

I try to calm my nerves. He is not in wolf form, meaning his senses are not acute, and there is no reason he should Shift. I shouldn't have to worry about him sniffing me out.

The sound of a door opening fills the room, and I pull back a little behind the rafters, out of view, as another person enters the room. The sound of paper rustling fills the air. I risk another peek, and that's when I see him – the greying general standing adjacent to the kind, with a parchment spread across the table beneath me. I see strange symbols on it, but I don't pay any attention to that. My eyes are locked on the king's terse features, which I also notice match Kohl's when he is tense.

"Update?" The king sounds almost bored.

"Yes, your majesty," the general replies, unfazed by the king's indifference. He points to several of the symbols on his parchment. "Darkwater, Greenorb and Brassweed all tested negative."

I frown at the absurdity of his words. What the hell is he on about?

"And?" the king demands, looking irritated. "Anyone else? There aren't that many damn girls in the Queenstrials, Flouner. Surely you got through more."

My ears prick at the mention of the Queenstrials, but a chill slithers down my spine once I put two and two together. They must be talking about the girls, and these absurd names must be codenames.

The general's throat bobs. "I am afraid not, sir."

The king rolls his eyes. "Broadsword? Glassheart?"

The general bows his head. "I'm afraid we have no information on Broadsword, but we do have Featherfoot watching Glassheart. Rest assured we will know soon enough."

My mind whirs as I try to decipher whom the codenames may refer to.

The king growls. "For God's sake. Glassheart is weaker than a puff of wind; you should damn well her status by now. I don't even know why she's here."

I cover my mouth to stifle a gasp. Kairi. Glassheart must be Kairi, because certaintly they know about her lung condition by now. Which also means this 'Featherfoot' is watching her. The revelation is so starting to me, I don't even notice that the room has plunged into deathly silence. Nor do I notice that, in my efforts to stifle my gasp, I'd knocked an elbow against the wood.

My heart freezes. Shit!

"What was that?" the general asks, snatching up the parchment almost defensively. He looks up about the edges of the rafters, and I duck away just before his eyes pass over me, squeezing myself as tightly against the entrance to the crawlspace as I can.

"I think,"—the sound of a chair scrapes, and I can almost picture the king rising to stand—"we are being watched."

The crinkle of paper fills the room, and my heart crawls to my throat as rustles of movement fill the room. I curl myself up as tight as possible. If they see me, I am definitely dead.

Shit, shit, shit, shit—

"Eavesdroppers will have their heads cut!" the king snarls, and my body trembles with the reverberations of his voice. I glance back to the crawlspace, but I can't risk going through it yet. I would make too much noise.

Instead, I close my eyes, pulling my knees to my chest to reduce my size as much as possible.

Eternities of silence tick by. Finally, the king huffs, and flops back into his chair.

"Must be the damned rats."

A long silence draws again. Relief bleeds into me.

"Maybe they're hidden further in the rafters?" the general suggests, and I silently curse him out with every vile word imaginable for even suggesting that.

"No." The king is dismissive. "Not possible. If there was someone up there, we would see them. I've checked; the space up there is very tight and there's nothing behind it.

Obviously not well enough, I think to myself. The general grunts his admission, and I think I almost cry from relief. Had I been of normal werewolf size, they probably would have spotted me. For once, however, my shitty genetics has come in to save me, and I can't thank my parents enough for that.

My heart continues to slam widely against my ribcage as the king dismisses the general. Several minutes later, the king leaves after him, and I remain for ten more minutes just for good measure.

Once I am certain I'm in the clear, I turn around and squeeze myself through the narrow crawlspace. The air is dusty, and the splintered wood of the internal infrastructure of the castle snags and tears as my clothes, but I can't stop grinning. I completed my first mission, and more importantly, I survived it. It may not be much to more seasoned spies, given I didn't even need to stalk anyone, but I know I'm pretty damn proud of myself.