Contract With The Alpha King
Contract 60

Chapter 60

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Fiona folded her arms as she stood in the garden, staring at Elise, who was clearly hesitating to speak. "Why did you want to see me, Elise?" Fiona asked, without hiding the irritation in her voice. "I'm not offering you tea, so spit it out." She didn't want to see Elise, but Kariana thought Elise's presence would attract attention from other werewolves walking in and out of the infirmary,

"I didn't come here to argue," Elise said, her voice flat, uninterested as usual.

Fiona let out a sigh. She was tempted to roll her eyes but refrained. "Then why are you here?" she asked. "Surely, you didn't come because you missed me?"

Elise scoffed, her lips curling in disdain. "Miss you? Don't flatter yourself, Fiona. If anything, life's been a lot better since you left. At least now I don't have to clean up after your messes."

She wanted to argue and ask her about these "messes" she was talking about. Was being different considered a mess? Fiona was tempted to start another fight with her sister, but she didn't. Instead, she just stared at Elise, waiting for her to say more, to tell her what she really wanted to say.

Elise shifted slightly, her eyes scanning the garden as if avoiding Fiona's gaze. "So, do you like it here?" she asked abruptly.

Fiona found the question strange, her brows knitting together in confusion. "Yes," she answered slowly. "I do. Why?"

Elise didn't answer immediately, her lips pressing into a thin line as she seemed to gather her thoughts. Seeing this, Fiona crossed her arms, her patience wearing thin. "Elise, what do you really want? Just say it. You might not know this, but I am working in the palace. I need to go back to work soon."

After a beat, Elise finally looked up. "Do you know why there's no other Rosenthal outside the clan?"

Fiona stared at her sister. "Isn't it because our dear clan leader-Father-kills anyone who dares leave?" she answered before she could properly process her thoughts.

Elise's eyes widened, and for the first time, her usual mask of indifference slipped. "What?" she stuttered, clearly caught off guard.

Fiona chuckled darkly, watching her sister's reaction with grim satisfaction. "Are you really surprised, my dearest sister?" she asked. "Surprised that I know about Father's plan to kill me? His eldest child?"

Elise didn't respond immediately, her mouth opening slightly before closing again as if searching for words. Her silence was all the confirmation Fiona needed.

"I know," Fiona said simply, shaking her head. "I've known for a while. It's no secret to me that Father would rather see me dead than out in the world, living my own life." Her eyes flicked up to meet Elise's, daring her to deny it.

Elise stood there, lips pursed, clearly struggling with something. After a long pause, she finally spoke. However, this time, her voice seemed quieter than before. "I didn't want to say this," she muttered, almost as if it pained her to get the words out. "But you should be careful, Fiona."

Fiona lifted an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the unexpected warning.

However, before she could press for more, Elise turned on her heel, walking away swiftly without another word. Fiona stood there, watching her sister disappear from sight.

Fiona let out a long sigh, watching the spot where Elise had disappeared. This entire conversation left her with more questions than answers, but worrying about it now would get her nowhere. Surely, her father wouldn't attempt to do anything drastic in the palace, right?

She pushed the thoughts aside, knowing that her sister's sudden warning wouldn't solve itself in an instant, With a deep

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breath, Fiona turned away and started back toward the infirmary

Work would keep her mind occupied. At least that was something she could control.

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The rest of her shift passed slowly, each hour dragging as she forced herself to focus on the patients and tasks at hand. By the time her shift ended-earlier than usual, thankfully-Fiona felt mentally drained but relieved to be done for the day. She made her way to Elijah's palace, determined to prepare for the ball tomorrow and forget about the strange encounter with Elise.

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As soon as she stepped inside the grand entrance of the palace, something caught her attention. Servants-more than she'd ever seen before-were lined up from the door, standing in neat rows as if they were waiting for some kind of signal. Fiona blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback by the sight.

Just as she moved to step aside, Regor appeared in front of her, bowing deeply. "Greetings to the mistress of the palace," he

said with a formal tone.

Fiona's eyes widened, her stomach twisting with discomfort. "Don't call me that," she blurted out, glancing around nervously at the servants, who seemed to be watching her closely.

Before she could say anything else, Elijah's voice echoed from the staircase. "It's only fitting, Fiona," he said with a smirk, descending the stairs with his usual confident grace. "After all, you are the one they serve now."

Fiona shot him a look as he reached her, brushing a hand along her arm in a casual, familiar gesture. "What is all this?" she asked, motioning to the rows of servants. Didn't they agree not to announce their wedding yet? What is this? Why was he making it so obvious? "Why are they here?"

Elijah chuckled softly, clearly amused by her confusion. "They're here to prepare you for the ball tomorrow," he explained, his tone light as if this was completely normal.

"Prepare me?" Fiona frowned, crossing her arms. "The ball isn't until tomorrow. Why start the preparations today?"

Elijah's grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You'll understand very soon," he said.

Fiona raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You enjoy keeping me in the dark, don't you?"

"Maybe a little," Elijah admitted, his smile softening. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough for her to hear. "But trust me, it's all part of the plan."

Fiona sighed, still not entirely convinced but knowing that pushing him for answers wouldn't get her anywhere. "Fine," she said, though her tone was far from enthusiastic. "I'll play along. But if this turns into some ridiculous spectacle, I'm blaming you."

Elijah laughed, his hand gently brushing her cheek. "I'll take full responsibility," he promised, his eyes gleaming with that same playful energy.

Before Fiona could respond, the head maid stepped forward and gestured toward a side hall. "Mistress Fiona," she said with a respectful bow. "If you're ready, we can begin your preparations."

Fiona followed the head maid down the hall, her curiosity rising with every step. She still wasn't entirely sure what Elijah meant by "preparations," but as she entered the large room ahead, she immediately felt a pang of unease.

The moment she stepped inside, a small army of servants descended on her. They moved quickly, efficiently, without a word, ushering her to a cushioned chair in the center of the room. Fiona barely had time to blink before they started.

Two servants began massaging her arms and legs, their hands firm and methodical. Another worked on her hair, fingers weaving through her strands with almost too much precision. A fourth began scrubbing her face gently but thoroughly. Fiona wanted to protest, but it felt pointless. They weren't going to stop.

The routine wasn't relaxing like she had imagined it might be. In fact, it was borderline exhausting. Every movement, every

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touch, seemed to be part of a well-rehearsed dance meant to prepare her for... what, exactly? Fiona wasn't sure.

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Just as she thought they were done, the maids ushered her into a warm bath filled with milk, petals, and fragrant oils. The scent was overwhelming, almost suffocating, as they poured more into the water. Fiona could only sigh, sinking into the bath as the servants continued their work, scrubbing and massaging her skin, ensuring every inch of her was perfect.

Her patience wore thin, but she kept her complaints to herself. As they dried her off, more hands moved to her hair, trimming and styling it meticulously. Another set of hands worked on her nails, buffing and shaping them until they gleamed. It felt endless.

Fiona glanced at her reflection in the mirror once, surprised at how flawless they were making her look, but that didn't stop the fatigue that was setting in. She was used to hard work, but this-this was draining in a way she hadn't anticipated.

"Who would have thought that being so beautiful can be... this tiring?" Fiona asked as she looked at her reflection in the

mirror.

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