Defying the Rogue Alpha
Chapter 156: Casual

Chapter 156: Casual

"I hope so," Herod said, sliding into the chair beside her, a little too close for casual.

She tilted her head and smiled. "Tell me."

He hesitated. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to eat, laugh, have some non alcoholic wine. Instead, here she was, looking at him with those wide, unblinking eyes, demanding answers.

"I was hoping you would get some food in you first," Herod said, feigning casual, gesturing toward the feast.

"Oh come on, Your Highness..." she started to protest.

"You can call me Herod, Ava," he interrupted gently. "Just Herod."

She paused, her hand hovering over a bowl of soup. "Is that what I used to call you?"

There it was again—that sharp little jab of guilt. Herod fumbled for the wine bottle as if it could serve as a distraction or maybe even a shield. "Uh... yes," he lied, drowning the sound of it with a generous pour of the wine.

Ava took a breath and nodded slowly, setting her spoon down. "Okay... Herod. What are we celebrating?"

Herod inhaled deeply. "I was going to ask... to mate you under the next full moon."

"Oh..."

It was not the reaction he’d hoped for.

Ava reached for her glass of water, then chugged it. "Uh... I don’t know."

And suddenly the golden light, the romantic spread, the carefully arranged ambiance—it all felt wrong.

"I don’t want it to seem like I’m pressuring you," Herod said quickly, leaning forward, his brows furrowed with real concern. "I do want to mate with you—I do. Left to me, I’d wait. A century, if I had to. But, my love, there is no time."

He looked at her then, not as a king demanding an alliance, but as a man desperately trying not to lose something fragile and impossibly precious. His eyes searched hers, soft and open, almost boyish in their plea. Believe me. Trust me. Choose me. All unspoken. All too much.

Ava stared at him. This was a man foolishly in love with her. And yet, she couldn’t ignore the thousand-ton question hanging between them: Was this real?

Honestly, Ava didn’t know what was right anymore. Her heart was tangled in a storm of uncertainty, and her mind was no help. But as she looked at Herod, so full of earnest hope, leaning toward her, something inside her softened. He was trying. Desperately trying. She didn’t know what love between them looked like—not yet—but she could see that he believed it was real. So she nodded slowly, feeling the weight of the decision land gently on her shoulders.

"Yes?" Herod’s voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes wide with that childlike hope again.

"Yes," she said with a soft smile, more for his sake than her own.

The king let out a high-pitched, barely dignified sound of joy. "You have made me the happiest man in the world!" he declared, almost breathless with relief. In one eager swoop, he reached across the table, catching her hand and then planting a kiss right on her lips.

Ava’s body reacted before her brain could draft an appropriate response. She yelped and jerked back, knocking over her water glass in the process. Her eyes were wide with shock, and her hands instinctively hovered in front of her face.

"I’m—I’m sorry!" she gasped, cheeks burning. "I don’t know why I just... I mean—" She fumbled, now more embarrassed by her own reaction than anything else. "You still have a queen. What am I supposed to be? Some kind of royal concubine?"

Herod’s expression faltered.

"The Queen and I," he said gently, "aren’t in love. Our marriage was political. She understands that. We’ve never shared a real bond. I have the right to find love—and to keep it when I do."

Ava nodded, arms crossed now, chewing the inside of her cheek. "I agree... but still." She tilted her head. "What exactly does that make me?"

"You would be my mate," Herod said with conviction. "The mother of my children. My partner. My equal."

She stared at him, trying to read beneath the words. Was he just saying what he thought she wanted to hear? Or did he mean it?

But even as those questions brewed in her mind, her body was still tense from that kiss. Or rather, the reaction to it. Why did I flinch? she wondered, heart thudding faster now. What am I afraid of?

She looked down at her hands, clenched together on her lap. Maybe it was the fact that she still didn’t remember enough. Or maybe it was because deep down, she knew it wasn’t him.

So instead of answering, she gave a weak chuckle and picked up a napkin to dab at the spill. "Well," she muttered, "if I’m going to be your equal, I guess I should at least try not to drown your dinner table in water every time you kiss me."

Herod laughed with relief. "Deal."

*****

Lucia’s entire body trembled, each slap from Queen Eliza reverberating through her. The queen’s fury was unrelenting, her hand rising and falling with a rhythm that spoke of deep-seated rage. Lucia’s cheeks bore the brunt of the assault, turning a vivid crimson, while her eyes welled with tears she dared not shed. She had failed in her duty, and the queen’s wrath was her penance.

"I gave you a specific instruction," Queen Eliza hissed. "Inform me whenever she goes to see the king. I told you to tell me what she was doing, when she was doing it."

"It escaped my mind, Your Highness," Lucia stammered. She knew it was a feeble excuse, and the queen’s eyes narrowed with contempt.

Another slap landed, sharper than the last, and Lucia’s head snapped to the side. "Twice! Twice!! I hear from people that they are taking strolls through town, announcing her as the new bride. I hear from servants gossiping that they had dinner last night." The queen’s voice rose with each word, her anger escalating into a tempest.

"I’m sorry, Your Highness!" Lucia cried, desperation seeping into her voice. But her apology only fueled the queen’s ire, resulting in a flurry of three more slaps that left Lucia reeling.

"Hey!!!"

The sharp interjection cut through the tension. Queen Eliza turned, her eyes blazing, to find Ava standing at the entrance. She had intended to seek solace on the castle’s balcony, to feel the wind and perhaps find clarity in its embrace. Instead, she stumbled upon this harrowing scene.

"Leave her alone!" Ava commanded, striding forward with purpose. She reached out, gently pulling Lucia behind her, positioning herself as a shield between the trembling maid and the enraged queen.

"Who do you think you are?" Queen Eliza’s voice dripped with disdain, her eyes narrowing as she sized up the younger woman who dared to challenge her authority.

(If I get 5 gifts, I will post one more Chapter. and trust me, its juicy)