Robbie was all for having a chance to meet and court the King until some officials came to talk to him.

Naturally, he had to be prepped for this sort of thing. His parents were Betas, as were his six older siblings. The only reason he hadn’t been married off at the ripe age of seventeen was because he had managed to find a job at the local library, and convinced his parents he could pull his own weight and choose his mate for himself. And so far, in this drab little backwoods’ town, no one was even remotely appealing.

“It would be in your best interest not to anger the King.” The Beta, some important coordinator for the Palace, had said while looking around his living room in distaste, like she’d never stepped foot in a one-story, lower-class house before.

“What do you mean by that, exactly?” He asked warily, tapping his hand against his knee. He was supposed to leave for the Palace in three days, along with the other fourteen Suitors. So far, they had asked him invasive questions about his nonexistent sex life, checked him for STIs, inquired about his heat cycle (also something that he hadn’t experienced yet), and now this? He knew what the Beta was implying, and yet he still hoped.

“If he wants something, do not refuse him.” She hadn’t elaborated further than that, not that she needed to. Robbie understood perfectly well.

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Robbie’s mouth felt dry, mind stuffed with cotton, fuzzy and slow under piercing green eyes. He had been travelling most of the day, then had been plucked and prodded, all of his imperfections pointed out before they were covered under makeup and cloth like he was some doll. Dressed in frilly skirts and fluttery makeup, yet he still fell completely and utterly flat in comparison to the god sitting before him.

The King was the picture of ease, sitting on the small couch, dainty hands resting in his lap. He looked comfortable, watching him through his unsettling eyes. Robbie felt like a specimen under a microscope, laid out bare for the other Omega to see. Then the King was inclining his head towards the couch across from his own, separated by a table that only held a few lit candles. “Please sit, Mr. Quarrels.”

Robbie nodded in lieu of a verbal response, moving to do as asked. He sat down tentatively, adjusting the skirts he was unaccustomed to wearing. He felt silly, wanting nothing more than to shy away from his gaze, because surely someone like him shouldn’t be in the King’s presence. He was beautiful, intimidatingly so. The King leaned forward, extending his hand out towards him. “My name is Scott, as I’m sure you know. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Distantly, his brain finally realized that the King wanted to shake hands with him, which somehow seemed wildly inappropriate. He felt like he should be groveling at the Omega’s feet, thankful to even be in his mere presence. Vaguely, he imagined those expensive leather shoes digging into his chest, those sinful lips curved up into a mean, condescending smirk above him. This made crimson bleed into his cheeks, because seriously, where did that thought come from? “I-It’s nice to meet you too.” He all but squeaked, silently cursing himself. Shouldn’t he have addressed him with some sort of title? Still, he reached out and shook the man’s hand. They were soft and warm, and his grip was steady.

“Are you okay?” The King asked as he pulled his hand away, sitting back against the plush cushions once again. He exuded a natural confidence, and though Robbie knew that the King could command a room by simply being there, had seen the man through a television or phone screen his entire life, yet nothing could prepare for him actually being in his company.

“I’m sorry.” He managed to get out, even though he didn’t know what he was apologizing for, “I’m just surprised that you know my name.” He explained, and it wasn’t entirely a lie. King Scott seemed much too important to know anything about Robbie, let alone what he called himself.

The King’s lips quirked up, as if amused by what he’d said. “I’ve invited you into my home, as a Suitor, no less. As a potential mate, I think it reasonable to at least know your name, darling.”

The term of endearment had his cheeks heating up again, keeping his eyes resolutely on his lap. “Oh.” Was all he could think to say.

“How did you find your makeover? I hope the stylists were accommodating.” He asked, and Robbie found himself nodding without thinking about it. “It was nice. Uhm, thank you.”

The replying sigh had Robbie glancing upward, the King’s lips were pulled into an unpleased frown. “I know that my position makes you reluctant, but please try to relax, darling. You are an esteemed guest in the Palace, and I would like you to be comfortable during your stay. That being said, I do not like liars. So, I will ask you again, how was your makeover?”

He didn’t really know how to feel about being scolded by the king, but he nodded anyway. “I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.” He murmured, trying to force himself to relax. It was hard though, with Scott’s eyes on him. He shifted a little, the skirts swishing slightly as he moved. If he was honest with himself, the makeover felt somewhat degrading. They had dyed his hair back to it’s natural blond, and the chemicals of the color corrector still burned his nose even now. His legs still stung from being waxed, and he had never been the sort of Omega to wear dresses. Being lower class, he could get away with wearing pants all of the time, but he knew that most upper-class Omegas were expected to wear skirts and makeup, more overtly Omegean fashion. “I don’t think that dresses are really my thing.”

“No?” King Scott asked, his eyes appraising his form. He himself was wearing a crisp suit, all black, signaling that he was still in mourning, and Robbie can’t recall him in anything resembling a skirt from what he’d seen in the media. “You look rather pretty, but I will inform your seamstress that you prefer suits.”

He definitely didn’t prefer suits, comfortable clothes, like jeans and soft shirts, were his go to, but he supposed that wasn’t an option. So, he just smiled instead, “That’s really nice of you, thanks,”

“Of course. I want you to be as comfortable as possible.” King Scott sent him a smile that made Robbie want to melt into a giant puddle on the plush carpet. “Once we’re done here, you’ll be shown to your quarters. I do hope that they’ll be to your satisfactory, and please feel free to make changes as you see fit. Your staff will be more than willing to get you anything you might possibly need.”

Their conversation continued from there, though it was mainly Scott asking questions and Robbie stuttering over his words and being generally awkward. Maybe it wasn’t the best first impression, but at least the King had laughed when he’d attempted to curtsey once he was standing up to leave. It was probably the sloppiest curtsey the man had ever seen, but he’d assured Robbie that he was cute, and that bowing was perfectly acceptable.

Now, he was following the lady who seemed to be in charge of them, a no-nonsense Alpha named Nina, to where his room was. She was talking, though he couldn’t hear anything over the rush in his ears, the excited beating of his heart as he trailed behind her. The King was known for his looks, often winning the “Most Beautiful Omega Alive” list and other titles, but even more so for his… reputation. Though nothing was ever outright confirmed, but rumors were always circulating about the King’s interests, particularly with his personal servants. A lot of people whispered of how he took advantage of his Omegan maids, luring them into his bed and stealing their innocence like some vilified Alpha.

Robbie had thought that the gossip was just that; silly gossip from people who were uncomfortable with an Omega in a position of power. Twenty minutes with the King though, and Robbie knew that they weren’t being lured into his bed, no, the supposed Omegas were crawling between his sheets without prompt.

He was pulled from his musings when they reached his room, Nina stopped so abruptly that he almost ran into her. “This is your room, Mr. Quarrels. You are free to explore this floor and the one below it as you please. However, the third floor is off limits. Dinner will be taken in your room tonight, and tomorrow lessons will begin. Your maids will be able to answer any questions you might have. Have a good night, Mr. Quarrels.” She smiled politely before beelining down the hallway.

Robbie watched her go, her heels clicking against the tiled floor as she left. Most of the doors surrounding his were also shut, but one was ajar. He could hear someone inside, clearly yelling. Their voice was pinched, familiar, he recognized as the other Male Omega here, a stuck-up man who Robbie had failed to get his name. The five Omegas had travelled together, and the man had spent the entire flight with earbuds and a sleeping mask on, though if he was actually asleep was up for debate. He’d only taken them off when they’d landed, and scoffed when Lilly, a really sweet girl, had tried to speak with them.

Robbie wasn’t a fan, to say the least. He felt sorry for his maids, he didn’t exactly seem like a very nice person.

Finally, he faced the door to his room again and opened it.

“Welcome, Lady Robbie.” A trio of voices said in unison, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin.

For some reason, he still hadn’t been expecting anyone to be in the room, though it only made sense that he was going to be introduced to the people would be… serving him. Which didn’t feel right, but he would think about that later.

Instead he just squeaked, both from surprise and embarrassment. The three people in front of them had their heads bowed, two of them curtseying (much more gracefully than his sad attempt earlier) and the last bowing deeply. “Oh, please.” He waved his hands in front of himself awkward, shaking his head when the three of them looked up with confused expressions. “Please don’t- you don’t have to do that. Please stand up.”

They obliged, thankfully. The first one, an Omega with long hair braided over her shoulder and a pretty heart-shaped face, smiled at him. “I’m Katherine, I’ll be your head maid. This is Casey, he’s my assistant,” She gestured to the Omega beside him, dressed in similar skirts as her, though his hair only fell to his shoulders in pretty waves. He waved and sent him a beaming smile, “And Rowan. They’ll be your seamstress.” Rowan stood at an average height, and smiled politely, Robbie figured that they were a Beta. “It’ll be a pleasure to serve you, ma’am.”

“Robbie is fine. Please, just that.” He pleaded, “but it’s nice to meet you three as well.”

He spent the next hour or so getting to know his maids, which was a strange thought in and of itself. Fortunately, they didn’t hover too much, letting him know that if he needed absolutely anything, he just needed to press the button on the wall next to his bed, which would alert them. Then they left, promising to be back in time for dinner.

He took the time to explore his room, which was probably the nicest room he’d ever been in. It was much bigger than the room he’d had back home, with plush carpet, a giant bed, as well as a sitting area and a desk. The closet proved to be massive as well, filled to the brim with pretty dresses and gowns that made his stomach sink just looking at. Hopefully, the King would stay true to his word and allow him to wear pants. Finally, he made it into the bathroom, which was equally as nice as the rest of the suite. The cabinets and drawers held a bunch of different beauty products, most of which he didn’t know the purpose of.

The small suitcase they’d been allowed to bring with them was sitting beside his new bed, so he took some time to unpack it. Once he’d done that, carefully placing his beloved stuffed bear next to his pillows and tucking a few comfort articles of clothing into the drawers, he crawled into his bed, not bothering to strip from the dress he was currently wearing.

It had been a long day, and as he buried his face into the familiar scent of his plushie, he quickly drifted into sleep.