{Third Person}

The room prepared for the Hunt attire was spacious, almost ceremonious in its arrangement.

Garments were displayed with deliberate care, each one placed as though it carried meaning beyond appearance.

Deep-toned fabrics stretched across polished stands—crimson, obsidian, forest green—stitched with intricate patterns that seemed to hint at strength, rank, and something far more primal than mere fashion.

Amara slowed as she stepped in. Her gaze moved from one outfit to another, taking everything in, but the longer she looked, the more her expression changed.

What had first seemed impressive quickly became uncomfortable.

"These were sent from Her Majesty," Mrs. Woods said gently from beside her.

That single sentence made Amara’s shoulders stiffen slightly.

She walked closer to one of the outfits and reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against the fabric. It was soft, but heavy, and the design itself made her pause.

The cut was far too bold for her liking, shaped in a way that didn’t prioritize comfort but presence—attention.

It revealed more than she was used to, and even the structure felt foreign against everything she had grown up wearing.

She withdrew her hand. "I’m not comfortable with this," she said, her voice quiet but firm.

Mrs. Woods hesitated, clearly expecting that reaction, yet unsure how to respond. "My lady..." she began, but the words didn’t quite come together.

Amara turned to face her fully. "Is it a must that I dress like them for the Hunt?"

The question lingered between them for a while. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Mrs. Woods opened her mouth, then closed it again. For once, she had no immediate answer. After a moment, she spoke carefully, choosing her words.

"You may have to ask His Highness. Anything he approves will stand, and no one will be able to trouble you for it."

Amara’s expression shifted slightly at that. ’I have to go to him again?’

The thought alone made her uneasy. Just an hour ago, she had gone to him, asked him for help, and he had granted it without hesitation. Now she was supposed to go back again, over something like this?

She exhaled quietly, her patience thinning. "No," she murmured, more to herself than to Mrs. Woods.

Without another word, she turned and walked out of the room.

Mrs. Woods didn’t follow immediately. She simply watched her leave, sensing the change in her mood.

—

Back in her bedroom, Amara sat down slowly on her bed, her earlier lightness completely gone.

The brief happiness she had felt after speaking with Alexander about an hour ago had faded, replaced by a familiar weight.

She stared ahead for a while, then lay back on the bed, her thoughts circling the same question again and again.

Why did everything here feel like something she had to fight against?

—

The next morning arrived quietly.

The courtyard was calm, with servants moving about in soft efficiency as preparations continued for the days ahead.

Mrs. Woods stepped outside to oversee a few things when she noticed movement from the other side of the residence.

Alexander had just stepped out. He was already dressed, his posture composed, and his presence commanding as always. There was no sign of Jasper, which meant he was likely heading somewhere alone or expected to be joined later.

Mrs. Woods immediately bowed. "Your Highness."

He acknowledged her with a brief glance and continued walking toward the carriage. But just before reaching it, he stopped.

Without turning fully, he asked, "How is the Hunt preparation?"

Mrs. Woods straightened. "Almost completed, Your Highness." She hesitated for a second, then stepped forward slightly. "There is something else I need to report."

That made him turn his head just enough to look at her.

"The outfits Her Majesty sent for Lady Amara... she was not pleased with them. She is also afraid of rejecting the Queen’s gift."

Alexander’s brows drew together faintly. "Who said she has to wear clothes she is not comfortable in?" he asked.

Mrs. Woods lowered her gaze immediately, not daring to respond.

There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his tone calm, almost indifferent, yet carrying a meaning that was anything but.

"And what is the use of that cat?"

Mrs. Woods blinked in confusion.

"If the outfits the Queen sent are not in good condition," he continued, already turning away, "then there would be no reason for her to wear them. Isn’t that so?"

He didn’t wait for an answer. He simply walked ahead and continued toward the carriage as though he hadn’t just said something completely unreasonable.

Mrs. Woods remained rooted in the same spot, her mind struggling to process what she had just heard. Then, her eyes widened slightly.

"...Did His Highness just suggest..."

She didn’t even finish the thought, but the implication was clear.

Slowly, she straightened and turned back toward the house, her steps a little quicker this time.

—

Amara was already seated at the dining table, eating her breakfast when Mrs. Woods entered.

"My lady."

Amara looked up. "Yes?"

Mrs. Woods approached and explained everything—carefully, word for word, including what Alexander had said. By the time she finished, Amara had completely stopped eating.

She stared at Mrs. Woods, her expression caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief.

"Will... that be alright?" she asked slowly.

Mrs. Woods nodded without hesitation. "If His Highness says it is acceptable, then no one will question it."

Amara leaned back slightly, still trying to make sense of it. Alexander’s way of solving problems was... very unusual. But somehow, it worked.

She looked down at her plate for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright."

Then another thought crossed her mind, and she looked up again. "If we ruin the outfits from the Queen, what will I wear to the Hunt?"

This time, Mrs. Woods allowed herself a small smile. "Anything you want, Lady Amara."

Amara thought for a moment before nodding. Relief settled into her expression, softening the tension that had been sitting on her face since the previous day.

"Now I can understand why His Highness is not liked," she said, a faint, thoughtful smile appearing on her lips.

Mrs. Woods’ brows lifted slightly in curiosity.

Amara continued, her tone calm but certain. "He refuses to be boxed by other people’s rules."

There was no judgement in her voice, just observation of her situation and his method of solution.

Mrs. Woods didn’t argue, but a small knowing smile appeared on her face.

"If there’s still time, and a designer can meet with me, I would like something more conservative. Something suitable for the Hunt, but not..." She trailed off slightly, her meaning already clear.

Mrs. Woods nodded. "I understand."

"But if there isn’t enough time, then I will just wear something from my wardrobe," Amara added, her voice carrying quiet resolve.

Mrs. Woods inclined her head. "I will make the arrangements and find out immediately."

Amara gave a small nod in return, finally turning her attention back to her meal, though her mind was no longer as burdened as it had been before.