Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

”Not necessarily. Dean can give you a ceremonial position if he wishes. Something personal, visible, and formally harmless. Companion to the Crown Consort, attendant for social events, cultural aide. There are several options. Enough title to justify your presence. Not enough access to make anyone argue you are a channel between Alamina and Rohan.”

Sylvia absorbed that slowly.

”So... less secretary. More decorative shield?”

Minerva laughed.

Sylvia immediately liked her.

”Something like that,” Minerva said. ”Though I suspect Dean will invent a title that sounds more elegant and less honest.”

”He does enjoy elegant dishonesty.”

”He does.”

Sylvia looked down again, then forced herself to ask, ”Will this hurt Tom?”

”No.”

”Dean?”

”No, not if handled now.”

”Me?”

Minerva’s gaze softened. ”It may disappoint you.”

That was not a lie.

Sylvia liked her even more for it.

”It does,” Sylvia admitted. ”I wanted to be useful.”

”You are useful,” Minerva said. ”But usefulness should not place you in a position where people can accuse you of something ugly because they dislike who you love.”

Sylvia went still.

Who you love.

The words were too heavy for the room.

Minerva noticed.

”Or who you are beginning to care for,” she amended, with a smile that was far too knowing.

Sylvia’s face heated up. ”That sounds less alarming.”

”Good.”

”I do not know what this is yet.”

”You do not need to know today.”

Sylvia looked at her.

Minerva leaned back slightly. ”Enjoy it, Sylvia.”

Sylvia looked very confused. ”Enjoy it?”

”Well, Thomas is a dominant alpha...” Minerva started, tapping one gold-painted fingernail lightly against her chin. ”And you are a beta, so there will be a moment when Thomas receives another proposal with a dominant omega.”

Sylvia looked down at her clenched hands. ”I know,” she said in a small voice.

For the first time since Sylvia had entered the room, Minerva’s expression changed into one oddly like her own mother’s.

”Do you?”

Sylvia’s fingers tightened. ”I am not stupid.”

”I did not say you were.”

”I know how this works.” Sylvia tried to smile, but it did not quite arrive. ”Maybe not the court parts. Or the intelligence parts. Or the part where apparently arriving in a car can become a security concern. But I know this much. Thomas is Thomas Lancaster. He is a dominant alpha, a commander, politically valuable, genetically valuable, and very...” She stopped herself before she said large, beautiful, terrifying, and unfairly good with his hands. ”Important.”

Minerva’s mouth curved slightly, as if she had heard at least three of the unsaid words.

Sylvia pretended not to notice.

”And I am a beta,” she continued. ”A civilian beta. No title, no house, no strategic bloodline, no stabilizing effect, no political advantage beyond being Dean’s friend and occasionally useful in emotional emergencies.”

”Occasionally?”

Sylvia blinked.

Minerva’s eyes shone with quiet amusement. ”Dean described you as daring, bubbly, stubbornly loyal, and capable of making him laugh when half the room is too frightened to breathe.”

Sylvia’s throat tightened.

”He said that?”

”He did.”

”Oh,” Sylvia said, and felt ridiculous for how important it felt to her.

Minerva leaned forward, her voice gentler now. ”That is why I am saying this carefully. I do not want you to lose that.”

Sylvia looked up.

”The world around men like Thomas can become very heavy,” Minerva said. ”Rank, proposals, bloodlines, family expectations, military alliances, secondary gender politics. People will speak around you as if your feelings are charming but temporary. They will imply that you should be grateful for whatever time you are given. They may even be polite about it, which is worse.”

Sylvia swallowed.

Minerva’s gaze held hers. ”Do not let that make you smaller.”

The words struck harder than Sylvia expected.

She had been ready for warnings. For rules. For a gentle explanation that this could not last, that she should prepare herself, that dominant alphas always returned to the logic of their world eventually.

She had not expected an empress to tell her not to shrink.

”I do not know how,” Sylvia admitted.

”That is all right.”

”That seems like a problem.”

”It is an experience issue,” Minerva said. ”Not a character flaw.”

Sylvia let out a weak laugh. ”You make terrifying things sound manageable.”

”That is half of ruling.”

”What is the other half?”

”Making manageable things look terrifying when necessary.”

Sylvia stared at her.

Minerva smiled.

Sylvia really liked her.

That was dangerous. She was fairly sure liking empresses led to unexpected responsibilities.

”Thomas may receive a dominant omega proposal,” Minerva continued. ”He may be pressured. His family may calculate. Rohan may calculate. Alamina may calculate. Everyone always calculates. That does not mean you must begin grieving before anything has even happened.”

Sylvia looked down again. ”And if it does happen?”

”Then you will deal with it when it does.”

”That sounds very simple.”

”It is not simple. It is only better than punishing yourself in advance.”

Sylvia breathed out slowly.

Minerva’s voice softened further. ”Enjoy him. Enjoy being wanted. Enjoy the way he looks at you, the way he tries to stand between you and every draft, corridor, princess, and theoretical threat in a fifty-meter radius.”

Sylvia’s face heated up. ”He is not that bad.”

Minerva gave her a look.

Sylvia sighed. ”He is exactly that bad.”

”And you like it.”

Sylvia pressed both hands over her face. ”Your Majesty.”

Minerva laughed, warm and unexpectedly delighted. ”There she is.”

Sylvia peeked through her fingers. ”Who?”

”The woman Dean told me about.”

That made Sylvia’s chest ache.

Minerva’s smile remained, but her eyes were serious. ”I would like to see more of her. Whatever happens with Thomas, do not become cautious in a way that kills your joy. Caution is useful. Fear is not.”

Sylvia lowered her hands slowly.

”I am afraid,” she said.

”Good.”

Sylvia blinked. ”Good?”

”Fear means you understand there is risk. That is healthy. Just do not confuse risk with a command to retreat.”

For a moment, Sylvia said nothing.

Then she nodded.

”I think,” Sylvia said carefully, ”I would like to enjoy it.”

Minerva’s smile deepened. ”Perfect.”

”And I would like to keep seeing Dean.”

”You will.”

”And Tom.”

”I assumed.”

”And maybe...” Sylvia hesitated, then looked at the empress with more courage than she felt. ”Maybe I would like to see you too. Sometimes.”

Minerva looked pleased.

”I would like that very much,” she said.

Sylvia’s heart did something unwise.

”Oh,” she whispered.

Minerva rose, and Sylvia stood immediately because she had enough survival instinct to remember protocol even while emotionally compromised.

The empress touched her shoulder lightly as she passed, the gesture brief but warm.

”Go to Dean,” Minerva said. ”He has been back from his honeymoon for less than a day, and I am certain he has already collected at least three grievances, two political concerns, and one dramatic complaint about being expected to work.”

Sylvia laughed.

”I can help with that.”