Almost two weeks had gone by since Carter Polver lost the Blood Challenge to his fifth-born son, Russel. It’s also been almost two weeks since Lola had, somehow, managed to fight and kill a werewolf woman from the kingdom of Harvenk named Nora. The shock of what she’d done, coupled with the immense trauma she’d been through, caused a severe reaction to her mental state. Unresponsive for the most part, she spent the next several days in her room pretty much alone, taking food and drink from a human servant Russel sent in on a regular basis. The king met with her himself during that time but couldn’t get through to her more often than not. She would just stare at him, her mind still stuck in a horrible loop of death and destruction. Of loss and pain. She would see her parents again, burning to death. See her village being obliterated by cruel, monstrous werewolves. She would be in the forest again, fighting off ghouls. Then all that would slip past her and memories of Russel, out of control, fully beast, and bearing down on her would slam into her mind. Finally, she would see Nora again. Then those same flashes of claws and fangs and blood.

But as the days wore on, she healed.

Eventually, she would actually talk to Russel when he visited her. She would move on her own again. The terror, the outright, blood-chilling horror she'd felt in the aftermath of fighting Nora was still there but time was doing its best to blunt it. The sharpness of that fear was dulling and for the first time since it happened, Lola felt like she could breathe again. She felt like she was herself.

“It is good to see you up and about, Ms. Lola,” Greta said, holding a tray of breakfast foods for her to eat.

Lola looked at the food, the delectable scent of sausage, bacon, eggs, and even biscuits drifting over to her. A mug of coffee was next to the plate of food, thin curls of steam drifting off it toward the ceiling. She could almost feel the energy the food and coffee was about to give her and she hadn’t even eaten anything yet.

“Thank you, Greta. It’s been…” She took a breath, forcing the sudden imagery of all her past trauma to her mind away. “It’s been hard. But I am feeling much better. And I don’t think I would’ve been able to at all if it weren’t for you.”

Lola meant that too. Greta had been such a godsend over the last two weeks. She was a hard woman and didn’t shy away from giving her true and honest opinion. But she was also incredibly patient, kind, and motherly. She had spent so much time sitting with Lola, coaxing her out of the almost-catatonic state she’d been reduced to. She was there when Lola broke down in tears. There when she couldn’t even get out of bed. There to make sure she ate and didn’t wither away into nothing. She was there through all of it, guiding and coaxing Lola back from the brink of losing herself completely.

“Of course, dear. I couldn’t have you lazing about all day, now could I?” Greta said. She came the rest of the way into the room and set the tray of food down on the bedside table beside Lola. Then she let out a brief, but shrill, whistle. As soon as she did, a pair of handmaidens entered bearing what looked like a dress and some shoes.

“Sherry. Hanna. It’s good to see you both,” Lola said with a genuine smile.

“Ms. Lola, why look at you,” Sherry said. Her brown eyes lit up with joy at seeing the girl looking so much livelier. “You’re looking so much better.”

“I can hardly believe it,” Hanna added. “I’m so happy you’re feeling better.”

“I want to thank you both too.” Lola started to get up but Greta gently stopped her.

“No, no, dear. Eat your food first. You need to keep building your strength. Sherry and Hanna have brought some clothes. The king will be coming for a visit today and he wanted to make sure you were able to accompany him this evening,” Greta explained.

Lola sat back down, a look of confusion on her face.

“Why? Is there some sort of event later?” she asked, not sure how she felt about that. Growing up on a farm in rural Alcroft didn’t exactly breed a lot of manners one would associate with a royal court. It didn’t matter if that court was a human one or a werewolf one. Well, at least she didn’t think so. Perhaps the royal court of a werewolf kingdom was less formal.

She eyed the clothing Sherry and Hanna were still carrying. It was a gorgeous dress of midnight black with a shimmery sparkle to it from some unknown source. All around it were accents of deep reds, scarlets, and crimson. The shoes were just as beautiful and elegant. The pair was red, like the accents, and shimmered the way the dress did. There was also a cluster of undergarments meant to go on under the dress that Lola eyed with some distaste. She preferred her clothing to be a lot more…comfortable. But if she was to attend some kind of royal function, she supposed looking the part wouldn’t hurt.

As soon as that thought hit her she caught sight of a corset and realized maybe she'd had that thought a bit too soon.

“What is the occasion?” Lola asked.

“There’s an envoy of humans approaching Oclan,” Sherry said, unable to hide her excitement. “I’ve never seen humans from Alcroft before. Well, other than yourself, of course, madam.”

“An envoy from Alcroft?”

Lola wasn’t sure what to make of that but wondered if it had anything to do with the letter she’d left for Sir Thomas back at the inn in Wrexon. But if that were the case, and Sir Thomas did get her letter, they should be approaching Harvenk.

Not Oclan.

Why would they be coming here?

She wasn’t sure but the thought made her increasingly nervous. Did she make a mistake? Should she not have written that letter? At the time, she thought it had been the right thing to do not only for herself but for those killed in Gloucester. Pointing the human kingdom’s forces right at the party responsible felt right at the time.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

“Are you okay, Ms. Lola?” Hanna asked.

“Come on, girls,” Greta suddenly said with a clap of her hands. “Leave her dress here and let the poor woman eat her breakfast.”

“Yes, Ms. Greta,” Hanna and Sherry said at the same time. Lola had to suppress an urge to giggle at the sight of the two women responding to Greta as if she were their teacher and they’d just gotten in trouble.

“Eat, dear,” Greta said. “We will return in time to help you get dressed. Okay?”

“That will work. Thank you all. Truly,” Lola said.

Each woman gave her a smile and then left her alone so she could have some privacy while she ate. She watched them leave with mixed feelings. She enjoyed the company but was still adjusting to being around people.

She grabbed her food and sat it on the plush, comfortable bed she’d taken over for the last two weeks. Then she focused, concentrated on all that glorious food, and went to work. The eggs were amazing and seasoned with just the right amount of salt, pepper, and chopped green onions. There was even a smidgen of shredded cheddar in it that she really loved. The biscuits were soft, fluffy, and sent out a puff of steam when she pulled them apart. The bacon was just on the edge of too crispy, exactly the way she liked it and the sausage came with a miniature ramekin of maple syrup she would dip them in. All in all, it was a very filling meal that she devoured in about three minutes flat.

She pushed the tray of food away and then spent a few seconds brushing the crumbs onto the tray. Then she went over to the clothes that had been brought in for her. They hung from a wooden wrack. There were a lot of different parts to the outfit and she had no idea what half of them were even used for. It made her feel so out of place.

She turned away from the dress and went back to the bed. About a minute or two later, a different servant she wasn’t familiar with came and collected her dishes. She thanked the young boy.

A soft knock on the door could be heard just a few seconds after he left.

“Come in,” Lola called.

The door opened and Greta, Sherry, and Hanna walked back inside.

“Are you ready? The king would like us to make sure you are dressed within the next thirty minutes. He will be dropping by to collect you after that,” Greta told her.

“I suppose so. I admit, I’m not exactly well versed on this sort of thing. I have never worn a dress like this before,” she explained.

“Not to worry,” Greta assured her. “We will make sure you are ready and dressed by the time the king comes to get you.”

Before Lola could say anything else, they set upon her. They gently pushed and guided her to the center of the room. Once there, they started to assemble the dress on her as if she were some kind of machine, the new creations she’d heard of in Gloucester but had never seen before. They were supposed to be these wild inventions meant to make life easier but she had also heard of many whose only purpose was to create as much destruction as possible. She shuddered at the thought.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there being assembled but after a while, Greta took a step backward and eyed her, appraising Lola as if she were an animal at market getting ready to be sold. Lola didn’t much care for that comparison either but it was the closest thing she could think of.

“Beautiful,” Greta told her. “King Russel will be most pleased. I will guarantee it.”

As if on cue, there was another knock on the door, this one a bit louder than Greta’s. The matronly woman went to it, opened it to a crack to make sure of who the person was, then opened it the whole way.

On the other side, dressed in a fashionable, well-tailored suit of almost identical material as her dress, was King Russel Polver.

He smiled happily when he saw Lola.