"You can do this Rosaline!" Jenessa encouraged as I stood up unsteadily on a tall slim heel with the minimum height of two inches.

Stilettos, she had called them, but I believe the term sticks suits them better.

I walked up and down the grand foyer glancing up a few times to make sure I was steadily balancing the three thick books on my head. A cold nervous sweat beat down my face as I willed my legs to stop wobbling like chicken legs.

Balancing books in heels should be considered a workout.

I was breathing hard in exasperation and concentration as I forced myself to stay perfectly balanced and upright.

Today was my first day of 'royal training' or as I called it, 'royal pain'.

Royal training was very similar to Alpha Academy where all our kingdom's future Alphas go train and learn fighting strategies and ways to keep the peace; but it varied in the way that Royal Training is much more complex and elaborate.

Alpha Academy takes a year whereas Royal Training takes 5.

Royals are shipped off at the young age of 15 to integrate into every pack in order to become well acquainted with each of their politics and cultural beliefs, along with learning each of their strengths.

With much persuasion, I reached a mutual agreement between my mother and I that I should start a year earlier in order to preoccupy myself and take advantage of the fact that we were already visiting every pack.

We were now in Blue Lightning Pack. One of the main packs in the field of agriculture. Where I'd learn most of my culinary and farming skills.

I sighed in relief as I made it across the room once again. Instantly, dropping into my seat and relaxing against it.

"No slouching!" Jenessa's voice rang out through the long foyer.

"But, I'm tired." I whined while casting my eyes downward trying to resist the temptation to shut them closed.

"Honey," Jenessa started as she caressed my hand in a comforting manner, "that's when it most counts. It counts when you're exhausted and you've been knocked down lower than you have ever been, because it shows that even though you've gone through the gates of hell and back you can still stand up tall and take the lead. And, that's the queen we need."

I understood her double meaning and sat upright. 

She was right. 

I wouldn't let him or anyone for that matter weaken my resolve.

I was going to get stronger, even if it killed me.

"That's my girl." She smiled at me with pride and walked away to grab a bottled water.

"Hello!" A nasal sassy voice interrupted from the grand intricate mahogany doors of the atrium.

A man walked in, his black stilettos clacking against the hardwood floor. He swayed his hips to an imaginary beat as he pranced around; his black skinny jeans clung to his skin as belts and chains hung from his waist and a white T-shirt with a vest on top adorned his torso.

"So, you must be the princess." He extended his pale manicured hand towards Jenessa who laughed lightly shaking her head 'no' before pointing in my direction.

He retracted his hand immediately and eyed me up and down before shaking his head in disappointment. I fidgeted under his gaze as my blood changed paths and rushed to my cheeks.

"Oh no, no, no darling. Has no one informed you that that clothes is men's wear?" he asked looking down at me in pity.

"I-" I cleared my throat, "I actually quite enjoy this outfit, it's comfy." I retaliated, my baggy sweat pants and tye dye T-shirt offering comfort and protection from the cold air.

He shook his head once more and tsked at me, "Darling, I'm sorry but that simply won't do. You're a princess now and in order to start acting like one you have to at least look the part and dress accordingly."

"Felicie!" He bellowed and in trailed a short plump woman with spectacles and office attire.

"Schedule an appointment for sizing and fitting with a modiste. Jot down that she in desperate need of a whole new wardrobe," he scowled down at my sandals that I had just slipped on my feet, "shoes included. Plus add in an appointment with a dermatologist. A. S. A. P."

"Do you get all that?" He inquired, Felicie nodded while her pen scribbled furiously against the paper of her small travel sized notepad. Once, he noticed she had finished her notes he waved his hand at her in dismissal, "That will be all, for now." she then scurried off to meet his demands.

"My name is Michael your personal stylist and makeup artist." He said smiling widely before reaching his hand out in greetings.

I promptly shook his hand and met Jenessa's gaze as she gave me a nervous pitiful smile.

My mind flashed to a moment where my mother offered me a personal assistant but I regrettably declined.

"It never snows here..." Michael trailed off in bewilderment while staring outside the window.

"Yeah, sorry that's my fault..." I replied guilty as I twirled my thumbs around in anxiousness.

What now?

He sighed dramatically, "Rosaline, you are our future queen and you shouldn't be wasting your precious tears over  someone who obviously doesn't deserve you."

"You know?"

"Of course, I'm your personal assistant." he says looking at me as if it were as plain as day.

"I'm going to be here for a long time." He added in quickly in a soft comforting whisper.

I nodded at him, on the verge of crying.

He embraced me, "Darling the pain will come, let it visit, cry it out, vent it out, bleed it out, and then ask it to leave.

Do not allow it to build a home and call it broken.

We aren't meant to be broken forever, that is punishment to our hearts and to our minds."

I sniffed and nodded into his shoulder, "That's beautiful, where did you hear it?"

I was familiar with that poem although I couldn't pinpoint which book I had originally read it from.

"It's by Pierre Jeanty," he paused to think, "the book I believe was called.."

"Her" I finished for him, a ghost of a smile gracing my lips.

"Yeah" he smiled softly and let go of my shoulders.

"Do you know my mate's identity?" I inquired.

"Yes." He spoke softly. His voice was calm and collective, reminding me of ocean breezes on cool cloudy mornings.

"They're ignorant fools to have rejected you." Michael spat out angrily the breeze turning into an icy splinter.

So much for cool cloudy mornings... Bailey piped in.

"Why so much animosity?" I asked him genuinely curious as he sat down on a chair right next to me. His rage toward the Moon Warriors seemed more personal then he let on.

"If you don't mind me asking..." I added in a bit too quickly and Michael chuckled.

"It's fine doll," he smiled but I could tell it was forced, "there was a man of the pack that was my mate but he couldn't and still can't seem to wrap his head around the fact that he's gay," he ssid laughing, "he rejected me for a woman."

"Well, that makes two of us." I replied somberly.

The Moon Warriors Pack were all just a group of imbeciles under the false pretense that they governed the world.

They don't, the royals do.

I do.

I can make and break the law with a snap of my fingers. I can force a person to do whatever I want whenever I please!

If I wanted to... I could have even forced my coward of a mate accept me!

But even though I had the power...

Even though I could've done it...

Even though I would've done it...

Even though I should've done it...

I didn't.

I didn't because what is love if it's forced?

It's fear and no part of me wants that for him, for me, for us.

So, I graciously gave him the liberty of free will. A precious gift that we all should be entitled to but can easily take for granted.

I snagged a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet and poured myself a glass.

Jenessa was flabbergasted. 

She stood still by the small cabinet against the wall where a rose vase stood proudly behind her.

I ignored her as I continued on and passed a glass to Michael. He hesitated, "I don't support underage drinking," he started giving me a pointed look, his dark sharp brows scrunching together in disapproval, "but, since I know I can't stop you and I don't want you drinking alone... I'll join you."

"Just take the damn glass," I laughed, "Cheers!"

Our glasses clanked together and I gulped the drink down in one swallow. Its trail burning down my throat as my eyes watered from the intensity and I felt lightheaded.

*

Michael and I were dancing to sensuous music as we moved against one another.

I swayed my hips and held onto his shoulders for support as he he swayed with me too.

I threw my head back and laughed a good hearty chuckle as I stepped away from him. I belly danced and shook my hips side to side with the rhythm.

"You go girl!" Michael cheered me on as I continued my sultry dance. He praised me as he too joined and followed along with the heated movements.

As the song faded Michael stopped twerking and my hips ceased their movement.

We both sat down panting and covered in a thick layer of grim and sweat, "We should fuck them up!" Michael slurred.

"You hold them, and I'll punch." I  hiccupped before I giggled at the absurdity of this whole situation.

I wanted Ace to feel what I felt, what I'm feeling.

My mood instantly sobered as darkness seeped into my brain. With the aid of alcohol my sour thoughts had been pushed to the back of my mind as all I could coherently focus on was the present but now that it was all finally catching up to me I felt vengeful.

Every part of my being begged for vengeance, for defiance. It overwhelmed me.

I noticed Jorge and Jenessa look at us incredulously. I was consumed by an ugly rage.

I want to make him regret.

Make him regret me.

Make him regret his life.

I want him begging on his knees for me.

I want him to want me back so hard that his mind will be plagued by thoughts of me.

I want those same thoughts to remind him of me with everything he sees and to keep him up at night wishing he had me.

I want his soul to be so drowned in mine that when he closes his eyes all he can see is me.

"God, I miss him..." Michael sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. He broke me out of my drunken rage filled reverie with his broken torn voice. It was the voice of a man whose life has taken it's toll. The voice of man that had nothing left to go on for, no purpose.

"I know that it's completely and utterly stupid, because he's sure not missing me when he's with that girl with the hazel eyes and long brown hair." Tears escaped his eyes as he cried. My heart ached for him, but I knew that no matter what I said it wouldn't help numb the pain.

"I never expected him to reject me... That was something I definitely didn't see coming. I never thought he would end it when he did.

I guess you have to love them while you can, don't you? You have to cherish every kiss like it's your last, hold onto him like there's no tomorrow, and sear those goddamn brown eyes into your soul...

That's the thing about love, it doesn't always have a 'happily ever after'. It isn't always a thick romance novel but rather just a few agonizing chapters short of a happy ending. And just when you think it's never going to end...

It does." He sobbed loudly into his hands as I sat there completely helpless.

This was his time of need and I wasn't going to leave him be the only one pouring his heart out. I wanted him to know that even though he's hurting, he's got a friend right here that understands him and has his back. He's got someone who sympathizes and not pities him.

"I've always known when to stop..." I sighed already feeling emotionally overwhelmed.

"I've always known when to let things go and when to just move on. But, 'I know' is different from 'I can'."

He shook his head angrily, "You don't need him, you deserve better." He choked.

I laughed, it was a hollow dark sound, "Everyone tells me that and I just wish that everyone would stop telling me that I don't need him!" At this point I was on the verge of losing whatever sanity I still clung to.

"I know that I don't need him, I know that.... but I want him so bad that now that he's not here I feel like I can't even breathe! I feel like my chest is heavy; like I'm dying on the inside."

I took a deep breath, "I think wanting him is worse than needing him, because I know that I can live without him, but I feel like I just can't."

Silence filled the room, the only sound were my muffled cries as Michal gazed ahead deep in thought.

"I can't offer you a peaceful state of mind because I know no matter what I say it won't help," Michael whispered, finally giving me his attention once again, "but, you know, they say that the good things in life are worth waiting for."

"Are they really?" I asked tiredly. I was tired of holding onto Ace, but I just couldn't help myself. My heart wasn't done with him yet.

"Definitely, the wait sucks, but when the good finally does come, you appreciate them way more. So now that life is getting rough, know that it'll soon get better. No rain, no flowers." Michael said sagely.

I hummed in agreement, "I'm going to retire to bedroom now. Goodnight, Michael it was a pleasure meeting you."

"The pleasure is mine." He responded as I climbed up the stairs to my room.

I leaned against my closed door. Big fat alligator tears rolled down my chubby cheeks as I looked at myself in the mirror once again.

I looked vulnerable and when I met my gaze in the mirror it only reflected emptiness.

Hold on.

Be strong.

You can do this

We'll do this together.

We'll survive.

Bailey comforted me.

I wiped my face and got dressed for bed, directing my thoughts to less depressing aspects.

Today was an easy day of training since it was my first. Tomorrows classes included:
Dance, martial arts, etiquette, culinary, literature, language, power control, and all other sorts of classes awaited me.

I was looking forward to occupying my thoughts with something rather productive instead of him.