{Third Person}

By the time Mrs. Woods returned with the concubine, Amara was already seated in the living room with Ginger resting calmly in her arms.

The door opened quietly, and Nora stepped in, lowering her head respectfully. "Lady Amara."

Amara gave a small nod in acknowledgement.

As Nora straightened, her gaze immediately fell on the cat. It lingered there for a moment longer than necessary, her eyes quietly observing the animal curled so comfortably in Amara’s hold.

Amara noticed her gaze and simply said, "Sit."

Nora blinked once, then nodded quickly. "Thank you," she said, moved forward slightly and took a seat.

Mrs. Woods lingered just long enough to ensure everything was in order before quietly excusing herself, leaving the two women alone.

Silence settled between them. Then, Amara took the opportunity to study the concubine and noticed that Nora was... ordinary.

She was not striking, not particularly memorable. Just a slim figure, average features, and a presence that didn’t command attention.

It made Amara wonder. How did she even get here?

Because if there was one thing she had come to understand, it was that Alexander did not seem like a man interested in women at all.

And from what Elowen had hinted before, this woman’s continued existence in his residence was not something to take for granted.

Amara’s thoughts paused there. When she looked again, she noticed Nora’s gaze had shifted.

She was looking around slowly and carefully, taking in the space.

Amara’s eyes narrowed slightly. ’What is she looking for?’

Her gaze followed Nora’s line of sight briefly, then returned to her. ’She is not expecting Alexander to suddenly walk in... is she?’

The thought crossed her mind, but as she watched more closely, she dismissed it.

No. Nora wasn’t waiting. She was observing her living room. And for some reason, that made Amara very uncomfortable.

She adjusted slightly in her seat, then called Nora’s attention back. "You’ve been coming here often. Why?" Amara asked. Her tone was calm but direct.

Nora immediately looked back at her, a small, almost sheepish smile forming on her lips. "I’m sorry if my visits have disturbed you," she said.

Amara didn’t respond. She just sat there, watching her.

Nora’s smile faltered slightly under that quiet scrutiny, so she continued.

"I should have come to greet you sooner when you first arrived," she explained. "But I wasn’t sure if I was allowed. So, I hesitated for a long time before finally deciding to come."

Amara’s expression didn’t change. "You shouldn’t have made all that effort just to greet me," she said plainly.

Nora shook her head quickly. "No, it’s important." She straightened slightly, her tone more deliberate now.

"It is only right that I come to greet you and introduce myself. You are the current mistress of this residence... until His Highness finds his mate."

For a split second, the room went quiet. Then Amara let out a soft laugh—not amused, not warm, but edged with something sharper.

"Is that so?"

Her gaze lifted fully to Nora. "Why does it feel like you came here just to remind me that I’m temporary?"

The words landed cleanly and directly. And Nora’s reaction was immediate.

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a brief moment, she was genuinely caught off guard. Her lips parted, but no words came out right away.

She hadn’t expected the accuracy, and certainly not the bluntness. It took her a second to recover.

"I—no, that’s not what I meant," she said quickly, her composure returning as she lowered her head slightly. "I would never dare imply such a thing."

But inwardly, she adjusted. ’So, she is not naïve. Not soft either.’

Nora straightened again, more careful now. "I spoke without thinking. Please forgive me," she added.

Amara didn’t respond immediately. She simply held her gaze for a moment longer, then leaned back slightly, her fingers absentmindedly brushing over Ginger’s fur.

The air between them had shifted, so Nora just sat there, her hands folded neatly in her lap, but the ease with which she had walked in was gone.

Amara’s silence toward her apology lingered in the air, making it difficult for her to find her footing again.

She opened her mouth once, then closed it, unsure of how to steer the conversation back to safer ground. But just as she was about to say something, Amara spoke first.

"How long have you been in this residence?"

The question caught Nora slightly off guard, but she was quick to respond, almost eager to recover from her earlier misstep.

"Nine months," she answered.

Amara nodded slowly. "That’s quite some time."

Nora allowed a small smile to return to her lips. "Yes... even I didn’t realize it had been that long already."

Amara leaned back slightly, her fingers absentmindedly stroking Ginger’s fur.

"I’ve always been curious," she said after a moment. "How does the Royal family take in concubines? Is it random, or are they appointed? And... is it by choice, or are they given no say in it?"

The question came out casually, but the effect was immediate.

Nora’s smile disappeared. It faded so quickly that it almost seemed like it had never been there at all.

Amara didn’t notice at first. She only realized something was off when the silence stretched a second too long.

Then, she looked up. "Is something wrong?"

Nora reacted instantly, forcing a smile back onto her face. "No, nothing is wrong," she said quickly.

Then she proceeded to answer her earlier question.

"There is no formal ceremony," she explained. "In the Royal family, concubines are not considered... important. But depending on one’s family background, some are allowed to attend important functions or festivals."

Amara nodded slowly. In her head, a thought formed almost immediately.

’No wonder I didn’t see her during the Hunt. Her background must be low.’

She didn’t say it out loud. Instead, she continued. "Which family are you from?"

This time, Nora’s smile didn’t just falter; it dimmed completely. "My family..." she began, then paused. "It is not worth mentioning."

There was a bitterness in the way she said it, subtle but unmistakable.

Amara noticed, but didn’t dwell on it. She just moved on. "Then how did you come into this residence?"

That question struck deeper. Whatever composure Nora had been holding onto slipped.

Her fingers tightened slightly against the fabric of her dress. Her gaze shifted away from Amara, landing anywhere but on her—on the floor, the table, the far wall. Anywhere safe.

The silence that followed was heavier this time.

Amara watched her closely now, with curiosity flickering in her eyes. It was obvious that there was a story there.

But after a moment, she exhaled softly and waved it off. "Forget it."

Instantly, Nora’s shoulders eased, just slightly. Relief washed over her so clearly that it almost looked like she had just escaped something far worse than a simple question.

Amara didn’t press further. Instead, she spoke again, her tone calm yet firm. "You don’t need to come here anymore."

Nora looked up, startled. "My lady, I—"

Amara didn’t give her the chance to continue. "I don’t care for such traditions, so don’t bother," she said plainly.

The words were not harsh, but they were final, giving Nora no room to retort or plead.

Nora hesitated for a moment. There were things she could say. Reasons she could give. But under Amara’s steady gaze, none of them felt appropriate.

In the end, she nodded, giving in to her fate. "I understand."

With nothing left to say, she rose to her feet, lowered her head in a respectful bow, and turned toward the door.

The visit had not gone the way she intended. Not even close.

As she walked away, she concluded to herself that the ’Human bride’ was far from easy to approach.

---

A few minutes after Nora left, the room settled back into its quiet rhythm.

Ginger shifted slightly in Amara’s arms, then curled back into herself.

Mrs. Woods stepped in a few moments later, her eyes instinctively scanning the room before landing on Amara alone.

A hint of surprise crossed her face. "She has already left?" she asked.

Amara nodded. "Yes."

Mrs. Woods walked further in, still a little taken aback. She had not expected the meeting to end so quickly.

Just then, Amara added, almost casually, "She won’t be coming again."

Mrs. Woods paused. There was a brief silence before she asked, "How are you so certain, my lady?"

Amara adjusted Ginger slightly in her arms and replied without hesitation, "I told her not to."

Mrs. Woods blinked, completely taken aback.

"I told her I don’t care about such traditions," Amara continued, her tone calm, as though it was the most straightforward solution. "So there’s no need for her to come here anymore."

Mrs. Woods let out a slow breath. Inwardly, a thought crossed her mind. ’Let’s see how long she lasts.’

But she said nothing. There was no need to dampen Amara’s confidence by pointing out that if Nora truly had intentions, a simple dismissal might not stop her. So instead, she allowed the matter to rest.

She inclined her head slightly, ready to take her leave, but Amara’s voice stopped her.

"Mrs. Woods."

Mrs. Woods quickly turned back. "Yes, My Lady."

Amara’s expression had changed. There was something more thoughtful in her eyes now.

"Earlier," she began, "when I asked her how she came into this residence... she seemed very uncomfortable. Do you know why?"

Mrs. Woods went still. For a brief moment, the change in her expression was subtle—but it was there. A slight loss of colour.

Amara noticed immediately, and it was enough for her curiosity to sharpen with intent.

"I want to know," she said directly. "How did Ms. Nora come into the Alpha Prince’s residence? She doesn’t look like she comes from a notable family."

Mrs. Woods didn’t answer immediately. She exhaled slowly, then moved toward a nearby seat and sat down. When she finally looked at Amara again, her expression had grown more serious.

"What I am about to tell you..." she began carefully, "must never be repeated in front of His Highness."

Amara nodded without hesitation. "I won’t."