His blue eyes seemed so innocent and honest as he searched my gaze. “I tried to find him. I couldn’t. So many bees.”
The alpha seemed to be in some state of shock, so I continued with forced patience, hardly believing my own ears as I continued, “We can write him a letter? Will that help?”
I knew many alphas never learned to read or write; they simply had no use for it, but perhaps this Hal could. Or the farmer he worked for would be able to assist. Surely, a letter with the royal seal could not be ignored.
Just then, a servant came in pushing a trolley with various desserts and one glass jar of honey with a spoon in it, like they expected the alpha to just gobble it all up straight from the jar.
The servant quickly bowed, eyeing the alpha nervously, but I just waved them off. As soon as the servant closed the door behind them, I carefully placed the glass of honey in front of the alpha.
“What’s your name?” I attempted a smile this time, hoping kindness would help.
“Gus,” he whispered, eyeing the honey.
“Gus. What is it short for?”
“Can’t remember,” he murmured, accepting the honey with shaking hands.
How could he not know his own name? Was he truly a simpleton, or had something happened to him? And why did I even care? I internally chastised myself. He was an alpha; I was the king, and the sole purpose of his being here was to breed me so I could produce an heir. I shouldn’t care one way or another if he couldn’t remember his full name.
“Then I’ll simply call you Gus,” I declared.
Looking at the big alpha eating the honey straight from the jar with his thick fingers, I knew now would not be the time for more answers. I’d gotten his name and knew of this Hal person. Tonight, once he’d had time to settle into his new surroundings, I would demand more of him.
“It seems the journey here has left you rather drained,” I started. “We can talk again tonight over dinner. I’ll have a servant show you to your room so you can rest and…” I took in his disheveled and dirty form, “bathe. Did you bring anything with you? Any extra clothes?”
Gus shook his head, his lips glistening with honey, sticky fingers buried in the jar, which was already half-empty. A desire-filled groan escaped me, but I quickly disguised it behind a cough.
“I don’t own anything,” he muttered, cradling the honey like it was a precious artifact. Then, his gaze dropped to the jar. “Can I…”
“Yes, yes, whatever,” I waved at the jar. “By all means, keep it.” And why on earth did I find it so damn endearing that he was asking for my permission to keep a bloody jar of honey?
Sighing, I stood and ran my hands over my navy blouse, feeling somewhat saddened that he so far hadn’t seemed interested in my appearance.
“Too lovely,” Gus muttered, his deep voice filled with awe, and I stupidly thought he was talking about the honey, but no, when I glanced at him, his eyes were on me, shy and curious.
I swallowed and felt the telltale tingle of my impending heat spread over me. I really needed answers tonight. If Gus wasn’t willing—or able—to breed me, my advisors would need to leave first thing tomorrow morning to find another one.
Still, as I left Gus in the sitting room, I felt myself hoping he wanted to stay.
“Meeting now!” I demanded as I located my advisors in the adjoining sitting room. Unsurprisingly, they were celebrating with wine and tiny appetizers, talking eagerly amongst themselves, patting each other’s shoulders. I sat down on the armchair located between the two couches they were sitting on, glaring at them until they placed their wineglasses on the table.
“Your Majesty? Is everything well?” Clive asked, confused.
“You truly believe the alpha you’ve picked is the best suited for me? For the kingdom?!” My voice was loud as I let my feelings about their choice be known. “He did not even appear to want to be here!”
Jerold held his hands up pleadingly. “He is just confused, Your Majesty. His simple mind needs to catch up. That is all.”
Shaking my head, I pointed in the direction of where I’d left Gus. “The alpha in there is not simple-minded; he is afraid! Did you force him here?!”
They all spluttered.
“I beg your pardon?” Nicholai choked. “Um, Your Majesty,” he hastily added.
“He is shaking!” I snapped. “Did you even ask him his name? And what on earth happened to him? He’s covered in insect bites.”
The four men, who before were all happy smiles and smug expressions, turned instantly sheepish. Their cheeks reddened with embarrassment, their gazes dipping to their laps.
Sighing, I slumped back in my chair. “You failed to get something as crucial as his name? I thought I could trust you with this important task, but I see I was wrong.”
