Chapter 62: At Least One of Us Is Having Fun

Naya was reviewing invitations with Serena when she came across one requesting a private meeting with a visiting Alpha’s daughter.

“Lyra Maren,” Serena said. “Twenty-two, daughter of the Alpha from a neighboring pack.”

“Is this a political visit?”

“She’s attending the Moon Court with her family,” Serena said. “But unlike most young nobles, she’s known for avoiding tedious ceremonies whenever she can manage it.”

“Is that a good reputation?”

“Depends on whether you enjoy people who tell you what they think.”

Naya decided to meet her.

Before Lyra arrived, Ronan found Naya and offered a brief warning. “The Marens are influential. Generally reasonable, but influential.”

“Is that your way of telling me to be careful?”

“It’s my way of giving you information.”

Naya smiled. “Look at you. Learning.”

He kissed her forehead on his way to council.

Lyra arrived dressed appropriately for court, though notably without the elaborate jewelry and styling Naya had grown used to seeing. She offered a respectful bow, then looked around the formal sitting room.

“Do you always have to meet people in these chairs?”

Naya blinked, caught off guard.

“They make every conversation feel like a negotiation over land,” Lyra said.

Naya laughed before she could stop herself, and something in Lyra’s posture relaxed immediately. Their conversation began with the Moon Court, drifted toward the absurd expectations placed on women born into powerful packs, and settled into something that didn’t feel like court at all.

Lyra admitted her father had been arranging introductions with eligible Alphas all season.

“How many so far?” Naya asked.

“Four. All disappointing.”

Naya sympathized more than she expected to, something settling easily between them. For the first time in weeks, she was speaking with a woman who wasn’t teaching her etiquette, serving her schedule, or quietly judging her marriage. Someone who simply understood what it meant to be born into a family with too much power and too many expectations attached.

“What do you do,” Lyra asked, “when you’re not attending court, managing territory problems, or standing beside your King?”

Naya struggled to answer, the question catching her completely off guard. She’d spent so much time surviving, learning, uncovering secrets about her own birth, that she honestly couldn’t remember the last thing she’d done simply because she wanted to.

“You’re telling me you’ve become Queen,” Lyra said, staring, “and nobody has taken you shopping?”

“I have clothes.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Lyra proposed an afternoon in the capital market, and when Naya hesitated, citing responsibilities, Lyra informed her that Serena had already cleared her schedule.

Naya had no good excuse left.

They set out shortly after, Serena and Tavian trailing a discreet distance behind as Naya and Lyra wandered through the market’s crowded stalls. Leather training gear hung beside silver-threaded ceremonial clothing, hunting knives gleamed on a merchant’s table, and the air carried the smell of roasted game brought in fresh from the morning hunt.

Lyra knew the market well, greeting shopkeepers by name, bargaining without the slightest hesitation, and insisting Naya try a honey-spiced pastry from a family stall tucked near the square’s edge. Naya discovered quickly that Lyra was competitive about nearly everything, including, apparently, who could negotiate the better price on a pair of matching riding gloves neither of them actually needed.

Tavian eventually warned them, in his usual understated way, that they were drawing attention.

“Are you worried about an assassination attempt,” Lyra asked, “or two women spending money?”

“Both, apparently,” he said.

Naya laughed, realizing, somewhere in the middle of it, that she hadn’t once thought about who might be watching her or what secrets her family had buried. She was simply enjoying herself.

Near the market square, a young wolf recognized Naya and thanked her for the changes to the relief-distribution system. Naya didn’t accept the gratitude easily. She asked whether the deliveries had actually improved, and when he mentioned a lingering problem affecting his neighborhood, she made a mental note to follow up on it properly.

Lyra watched the exchange with quiet interest.

“I understand why people are beginning to respect you,” she said once they’d walked on.

“I still have a lot to learn,” Naya admitted.

“Good,” Lyra said. “The dangerous ones are the people who think they’ve finished learning.”

Naya held onto that, something settling comfortably between them, a friendship built on more than jokes and matching gloves.

When Naya returned to the palace, Ronan found her carrying a small bag, a faint smile still lingering on her face.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I spent the afternoon with Lyra.”

“Did it go well?”

“I had fun.”

He looked genuinely pleased at that. “What did you buy?”

She showed him the gloves. He examined them with the same careful scrutiny he might have given a political document.

“Gloves?”

“Matching gloves,” she corrected.

His expression shifted. “Why matching?”

“Because we’re friends.”

He was quiet a moment, then said he hoped Lyra was prepared for how competitive Naya could be.

“I won the bargaining contest,” Naya said.

Ronan smiled. “I feel sorry for the shopkeeper.”

She nudged him with her shoulder, and he caught her hand, the moment settling into something easy between them.

That evening, Naya told him how much she’d enjoyed an afternoon that wasn’t about being Queen.

“Would you like another one?” he asked.

“I would.”

“You don’t need my permission to spend time with friends,” Ronan said. “Or to enjoy yourself.”

Naya studied him, struck by how different that sounded from the man who’d once demanded to know where she went and who she spoke to, who’d treated her independence as something to be managed rather than trusted.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“For understanding.”

He brushed his thumb across her knuckles. “I’m trying.”

She kissed him, and he drew her closer, the warmth of the day still lingering between them. Naya found herself already looking forward to seeing Lyra again, not because Lyra could solve a problem or offer useful information, but simply because, for the first time in longer than she could remember, she’d made a friend she could enjoy being herself around.