Two hundred guests. Ten Alphas. The room went silent the second she stepped through the doors.
She recognized some of their faces. Multiple, whom she'd met and played princess for. A few of them had no business being here. Their territories were far beyond a two day's ride. Let alone twelve hours. She wondered how they'd all made it so quickly.
Her father stood at the head of the hall, arm around Maria. The woman whose neck still bore Stonehowl's hand-shaped bruise.
Maria caught her eye, and smiled warmly. Guinevere gave her a warm smile back. She had a feeling she was going to need every favor in the building before the night was over.
Her father turned. Showtime.
"Daughter, you are looking better."
Every eye turned in their direction. The king approached her, offering a warm smile and a hug. All for show. She understood.
She had been performing warmth with this man her entire life. They were both very good at it.
"Father. You'll embarrass me in front of the kings."
There were some low chuckles. Eight out of ten.
"Come, let us begin."
She had a horrible feeling about those words.
She took her seat next to Cassian. Tyler sat on her other side. The seating arrangement of her nightmares. She rolled with it and pretended they hadn't bound her twelve hours ago. Sure.
Cassian sat stiff not looking at her. Silent. Tragic.
Tyler, on the other hand, was looking at her like a man who had recently discovered she existed and was deeply confused about the timing. He kept sneaking glances at her.
His eyes went to her mouth. Then her throat. Then the place where the dress stopped at her breasts. He had grown up with her. And he had tied her wrists less than twelve hours ago. So there was that.
Her lip was swollen still. Swollen. Honestly her best feature in this lighting.
The double doors of the hall opened, and a man entered she didn't recognize. Stranger number one. The night was already off to a rich start.
He was definitely an alpha. Three guards entered behind him.
"Ah the guest of honor. King Shadowfell." The room went very still. The most powerful man on the entire continent of Nyros, ruler of the largest pack and the most territories. Guinevere hadn't seen him before. She kept her composure. He was young. Attractive even.
He froze, pupils dilating, staring at her. Every eye went between Guinevere and King Shadowfell. Whatever was happening was not standard.
A specific, low, wordless heat rose in her body. One that she'd never felt before.
She blinked, looking away from him first.
He shook his head, seeming to also be getting himself out of that. Whatever that was. Then he glanced at her father, jaw tight and resumed walking.
Alarm bells weren't ringing, they were full-on clanging in her mind. She was going to need a stiff drink after this. The wine wouldn't do.
The doors opened again. Stranger number two. Another Alpha walked in, Beta and Gamma at his side. At least that's what she assumed.
"Lord Raventhorn from Velkaris." The entire hall froze for a second time. Some jaws dropped.
Velkaris. The continent that didn't talk to wolves. The continent that didn't talk to anyone in Nyros, frankly.
Entirely different world. No wolves. Different gods. A magic system. Different everything. And yet here Lord Raventhorn was in her father's hall.
She reached for her goblet. A daughter at her father's table reaching for white wine. Innocent. A small motion. But a devastating one that she realized a second too late.
The dress was tight and cut in a way that it lifted her breasts, the low neckline pulling so the inner curves spilled slightly against the silk.
The dress wasn't overtly low. There were lower in this hall. But it was lower than normal for her and just low enough that movement had an effect. Lovely.
She put the goblet back down. Again, the silk lifted across her chest as her arm extended, the neckline pulling tight against the rise of her, the seam at her waist tugging in a way that drew the eye down the line of her body whether the eye in question wanted to or not.
Cool air kissed the bare skin above the dress. Her body answered before her brain could tell it not to. Her nipples tightened against the silk. She felt it the second it happened. Apparently, every Alpha in the room seemed to have a 6th sense for it. A ripple of awareness moved through them like a wave.
She did not look up, pretending to not notice. There was enough coverage her nipples wouldn't be showing full on. But there was also enough see-through in the dress, that a faint outline would be there if someone looked close enough.
Tyler's gaze dropped to her chest and lingered. His hand stilled on his goblet.
Shadowfell's eyes had been on her father. They were no longer on her father. Lord Raventhorn from Velkaris, whoever he was, had not moved. Openly staring at her.
Her father, who had picked the dress, who had ordered her hair half-curled, who had specified the lighting in this hall down to the angle of the candles, took a slow sip of his own wine and said nothing.
He had her exactly where he wanted her. Gwen hated how effective it was.
Gwen brought the goblet up to her swollen lip again, and pressed the cold metal against the bruise.
The doors opened again, and the entire hall froze. Three for three.
But at this point the Moon Goddess herself wouldn't have shocked her.
Famous last words.
The man who entered almost made Guinevere drop her goblet.