The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 87: Meet the Plumettes

She always had a way of making him want her so terribly and leaving him hanging.

He had the opportunity to abate his hunger there and then, but he hadn’t.

He wanted her to offer herself.

But that didn’t seem likely to happen any time soon, did it? She would forever crucify him for killing her father and reducing her to nothing.

He smoothed a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh.

Deep down, Yeren was praying Andon wouldn’t barge in on him at such a moment. The man had a way of knowing whatever transpired without being told.

The day was still young and he still had plenty of things to do - other than thinking about what a particular woman’s skin felt like underneath his palms.

Andon was right. It had to stop.

Why couldn’t he control himself around her? Was it really so long since he’d had a woman?

His attendant knocked to inform him that Garelle and her family were waiting for him at the receiving room.

Where was Andon?

He made his way to the receiving room. The guards closed the door behind him.

Plumette sat on a cushioned stool farthest from the window, tapping his feet to a rhythm only known to him.

Yeren approached the family quietly, noting how each member said as far apart from each other as they could. "Your Grace." Lady Plumette rose from her seat and skirted a curtsey.

Garelle nodded at him from her perch on a cushion by the wall.

Plumette surveyed him with narrowed eyes, still tapping his feet.

"I’m honoured that you finally see fit to attend to the shame you’ve put on my family."

Garelle gave out a low sigh while Lady Plumette rolled her eyes in sheer irritation.

His attendant hurriedly placed a seat for him close to his bride-to-be and disappeared from view.

"Wine?"

Both women shook their heads while Plumette scowled.

"Wine won’t join our families, Your Grace."

Yeren leaned back on his seat and stretched his legs out before him.

"I never said it would. The wedding will be held as planned."

"And the mating ceremony? Would there be another one?"

The man was nearly off his seat - as if he wanted to haul himself at Yeren at the slightest opportunity.

"I’m afraid not."

Sterling Plumette bolted from his seat and paced the room.

"In my near-fifty years of existence, I’ve never heard of a royal wedding without a mating ceremony. What sort of a disgrace is this! This is not what I signed up for? If she does not bear the proud Lycan mark on her wedding day, what sort of a bride would she be?"

His wife folded her hands on her laps, staring at the floor with pursed lips.

"The bride of the King. The future Queen." The words felt empty as he said it - as if he were referring to the marital affairs of some other King he happened to know.

"The bride of a King who has no mark? The marking should be done for everyone to see. I would not have my daughter settle for anything less, Your Grace."

Garelle cast her eyes to the floor as well, paling obviously.

Where was is Andon when he needed him the most?

Wine was not a good idea at such a time, he reasoned.

"If you feel she deserves more, you can betroth her to the son of the King in the South. I don’t own her, if I remember clearly."

Plumette’s eyes darkened.

"I won’t sell her off to a man who is rumoured to have affections for his own gender, Your Grace."

"Enough, Sterling. You are speaking to the King, not your bloody Steward." Lady Plumette said, rising to her feet, her hands placed firmly on her waist.

Garelle remained silent, looking between the three of them.

"What would you have me do?" He pinned Garelle with a cool stare.

"Organise another mating ceremony, Your Grace. I would be more than honoured to sponsor it."

Really? How desperate was he?

"I will consider it. Although, I feel obligated to remind you that I will be away for a few days."

Plumette nodded, his gaze distant.

"Please save me from this unending disgrace. Falstaff and Redmare would not let me have a moment’s peace for a single second."

Yeren sat up straight. "I won’t inconvenience myself to satisfy your ego. Your daughter can testify to how much of a failure the first mating ceremony was. Another failure would put you in a much worse situation, don’t you agree?"

The man leaned forward on his seat, firming his shoulders.

"I have a perfect solution to that, Your Grace. Would you like to hear it?"

Yeren nodded slowly. There was no harm in hearing the eager man’s suggestion - no matter how diabolical it might be.

"The problem is that your wolves are not well-acquainted. Proximity will kill such suicidal resistance. If she stays in the castle..."

"You do not have to be so desperate, father. The King will wed me when the time is right." Garelle said, her voice practical and devoid of sentiment.

Yeren wanted to raise his non-existent glass to her at that moment.

"Your competition lives in this very palace. It would be foolish if you to expect his affections to remain wholly fixed on you."

Yeren wanted to laugh. Where was the boldness to spew such nonsense coming from?

"I believe I have heard enough from you lot. Another word from you and the wedding is cancelled."

Having said that, he stood up gracefully and left the room.

Garelle didn’t look like she cared much if he opposed their union - which made his respect for her grow. Many women would have rushed upon the opportunity to be his Queen.

And she terribly reminded him of Claire - another woman who couldn’t give two figs what he thought about her.

He met Andon as he was ascending the stairway to his chambers.

"I can tell it didn’t go well."

Yeren paused, one leg on the step in front of him.

"He wants another mating ceremony."

Andon glanced around, frowning even when only guards were gathered on the stairway.

"Shall we talk in your private chambers?"

The journey to his room was filled with tense silence.

How did he mention the trip to Glenwood to Andon without making it look like he was looking for an avenue for uninterrupted trysts with his Cupbearer.

Andon closed the door behind him.

"Another mating ceremony? Blood moon or not, I know it would be another disaster."

The King nodded, heading straight for his wine decanter.

He poured himself a full goblet. Just as he was about to take a sip, Andon took the goblet from his hands and downed the contents.

"I need it more than you do." He muttered in between swigs.

"Is something bothering you?"

Andon moved to the window and leaned on the window sill.

"I caught your uncle in bed with one of the maids. I cannot unsee what I just saw."

Yeren snatched up another goblet and poured himself some wine.

They raised their glasses at the same time and drank down the contents.

"Does my Aunt know about it?"

"No. Of course not. She would have a heart attack and die on the spot."

He nodded in agreement.

"Good. She doesn’t have to know about it."

"He didn’t appear ashamed of his actions in the slightest."

Yeren drank some more. "He seems more free than I am."

Andon patted his shoulder. "That’s because you respect women too much. I admire that about you." Then he added, "That’s why I know that your union with Garelle will go smoothly."

Yeren’s almost-smile crumbled to pieces. Did everyone have to remind him of his upcoming marriage every time they had a chance?

"Thank you for your kind words, Andon."

Andon gave him a mock bow.

"In broad daylight!" He muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Yeren couldn’t help but smile.

"At least he didn’t get caught."

Andon gave him a playful shove.

"I told Plumette and his family that I will be leaving for Glenwood in a few days."

His first man’s eyes widened.

"Did you just wake up and make this decision by yourself?"

He nodded. "I don’t remember having to answer to anyone."

"Why the sudden need to leave?"

"I believe a change of scenery would be good for me."

"And what inspired such a need?"

Yeren shrugged lightly. "The choking demands I face everyday."

Andon narrowed his eyes. "Would your ’esteemed’ Cupbearer be joining you on this trip?"

Yeren fell silent, knowing exactly what direction Andon was headed.

But his silence said it all.

"She’s coming? How convenient for both of you." The sarcasm was unmistakable.

"As my Cupbearer, she belongs with me."

"Belongs? If that’s the case, as your First man, I belong with you as well. I will join you both on your little trip."

How nice.

"Stop making it sound like I’m going there to unleash all my wild fantasies."

Andon took his goblet from him and finished the contents.

"There is no telling what might happen. You both need a chaperone."

"And who will watch things here in the Capital?"

Andon leaned on the wall behind him, a smug smile on his face.

"Your promiscuous uncle, of course."

Yeren raised a brow at his suggestion.

Was that even a good idea?

"Isn’t there someone more... accountable?"

Andon cleared his throat loudly. "Like Lord Malric... or perhaps Lord Aldrich Bronan?"

"My Uncle it is, then." He said with a resigned sigh.

"When do you even plan on leaving for Glenwood?"

"On the morrow."

"What about Miss Stenly’s sister?"

"I’ll let Claire decide that."

"Why not take Garelle on the trip as well?"

It was clear that Andon wanted to see his reaction.

Yeren moved closer, close enough to whisper clearly.

Andon tilted his head in anticipation.

He had to be honest with the only man that loved him more than himself.

"For some reason, Andon, I can’t and I won’t let her go."