MARIGOLD POV

Two hours later, I was convinced royalty didn’t eat food so much as perform it.

A massive golden table stretched between me and Alpha Gregor, the surface covered with more forks than I knew existed in human history. Three maids hovered behind me like silent owls, watching every flick of my wrist, probably ready to sprint straight to the king with a full report of, “Her Highness Margaux blinked five times and stabbed her steak wrong, Sire.”

And then there was ...