---
I barely had time to scream "I'm never riding that demon horse again" before Lucien dismounted Nyx and snapped his fingers.
Like, literally. He snapped.
Because apparently that's how royalty commands people.
Within seconds, three maids in matching pastel uniforms popped out of nowhere like magical groundhogs.
"Take her to the guest chambers," Lucien ordered. "Clean her up. New clothes. Hair. Everything."
I blinked. "Excuse me? Am I a stray cat to be 'cleaned up'?"
One of the maids gasped. "Is that—mud in her eyelashes?"
Another whispered, "And twigs. In her soul."
Before I could protest, they had me surrounded, herded, and practically levitating off the ground like I was Cinderella with a bad attitude.
"I swear if one of you touches my eyebrows, we're fighting," I grumbled as they dragged me away.
---
Meanwhile, Back in the Fancy Part of the Castle...
Lucien stepped into a grand chamber, where three very regal-looking people were already waiting: an imposing silver-haired man, a graceful woman with piercing blue eyes, and a brooding guy in armor who looked like he bench-pressed dragons for fun.
"You're late," the silver-haired man said. "Again."
"Good to see you too, Father," Lucien replied dryly.
Yep. Father.
Because apparently, our moody travel companion was not just some charming rogue with cheekbones for days.
He was the THIRD PRINCE of the biggest kingdom in the realm.
Lucien Asterion. Warrior. Outcast. Secret softie. And very much royalty.
"What's this I hear about bringing a girl into the palace?" his mother asked.
"She's not just a girl," Lucien said, voice low. "She's important. She was rejected by an alpha prince... and survived."
"Survived?" his older brother scoffed. "They all survive."
Lucien looked him dead in the eyes. "Not like this one."
---
Back in the Royal Bubble Bath From Hell...
I was soaked in lavender bubbles, draped in a silk robe, and being interrogated by the maids like I was the main character in a makeover montage.
"Your hair—gorgeous. But tragic."
"These clothes? Illegal."
"Sweetheart, are you even moisturizing?"
"I just escaped a monster attack," I protested. "Sorry for not spritzing with rosewater while dodging claws!"
They ignored me, as all professional maids do, and carried on with their mission: Operation Fix The Feral Girl.
When they were done, I looked in the mirror and gasped.
I didn't recognize myself.
Hair: soft waves.
Skin: glowing.
Outfit: a sleek midnight-blue gown that made me look like a magical heiress on her way to slay both enemies and exes.
For the first time… I didn't look like a maid.
I looked like someone with power.
And just as I turned to admire myself one last time, the door swung open.
Lucien stood there, blinking at me. His eyes widened—just slightly—but enough to notice.
"You clean up nice," he said.
"I had help. And threats," I replied.
He smiled. "Come. There's someone you need to meet."
---