“You do not enter this area. Or this area. That door remains shut.”

Yui nodded along. The steward moved so quickly, it was all she could do. He marched her through corridors, past stiff-postured guards, up and down staircases – some grand and some tight and spiralling. An introduction to her new…. Home wasn’t the word. Prison? It all appeared the same to Yui, regardless of pace. Grey stone, braziers hung well above her head, blue decorations with silver thread-work. She was dizzy from it all by the time she could stop scurrying.

The steward had halted suddenly. “These are the First Princess’ quarters.” He spoke the words as though it were a secret Yui would be expected to take to her grave. She gave him what she hoped was an appropriately solemn nod. Satisfied, he signalled to the guards either side of the door to step out a little so that he may enter. As a carnivore omega, he needed the room. Yui, not so much. “The entire wing is hers,” he announced as they stepped inside. “And only she has access to all areas.” Did he expect Yui intended to go rifling through the young princess’ undergarment drawer?

Yui didn’t care to snoop. Unless she were to find a way to get herself out of this mess, there was nothing of interest to her here. She did glance around the first section, though, her eyes caught and kept by the sprinkles of colour hidden amongst the war table, the padded benches and nook seats, the chests, and the pillars sectioning off the enormous room. It wasn’t all grey in here. The princess had her trinkets too…

Breaking off from this entrance-hall-turned-parlour were many more doors, all closed without a crack. Those on the right-side wall led outside onto a stone balcony Yui could make out through the tall windows that filled the space between them. It would make a lovely garden. Small. Easy to tend.

The steward toed carefully to a door in the far left corner, furthest from where they had entered, minding the First Princess’ furnishings and fitments. Yui followed his path exactly. “This will be your suite. Until the First Princess orders you otherwise, you are permitted to spend your time in here and in her vestibule only. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mister.”

“Don’t call me that,” he grunted. “You are the First Princess’ mate.”

“I see.” That felt like a lie, she didn’t see what was happening at all. She couldn’t make sense of it even with a walk around the castle to clear her thoughts.

“She will return here for supper.” He hesitated, as though uncertain whether he needed to say more. “You will eat with her. I assume you don’t eat meat?”

“No, mister!” Yui squeaked. Her stomach clenched at the thought.

He sighed. “I’ll see what I can arrange, but our cooks are not used to herbivores.”

“Thank you all the same.”

He grumbled something and bobbed his head in a barely noticeable bow before blustering away. The stale silence after the door shut after him was oppressing. After all the staff that had been busying themselves like bees zipping off in every direction, it felt all too still. Royalty had private attendants and servants, Yui knew. Yuki’s father had even had a couple that flittered around him to help with the most basic of tasks. Either the First Princess kept quiet quarters, or there were maids hidden behind the many doors.

Yui reached for the handle of her suite, hoping not to find herself in an accidental game of peek-a-boo with an unsuspecting servant on the opposite side. It was a silver, ornately designed doorknob that depicted either the von Sköll crest or a spiky thistle. It must be difficult to create art upon such a small surface… Yui half-covered the etching with her palm and twisted.

Thankfully, no servant awaited. Only a lounge larger than that she had at home, which led to a bedroom much larger than that she shared with Yuki and a wash room that put anyone in the village’s to shame. Far too much room for one little rabbit. And finely furnished in the house colours, of course. Everything appeared fresh from its respective craftsperson, the metal bed frame almost sparkled, the clay bathing bowls without scratch or indent, the rugs fluffier than fur-

Yui shuddered to a halt. What an awful thought to have in the home of carnivores – there was every possibility that there were corpse-made products decorating her suite! She inspected every blanket carefully, determining they all appeared to be wool as far as she could tell. The rugs… she was still uncertain of. She did her best not to step on them if she could help it.

There was little for her to do after she had scrutinised the suite to her satisfaction. She was already washed and dressed nicely for when the First Princess arrived. Word had already been sent to the village chief of the expectation that Yui should remain in the von Sköll’s castle for the foreseeable future. Of course, the chief would inform Yuki. Her heart ached at the thought. A little girl should hear such news from her mother’s mouth. Although, even if Yui was permitted the luxury of explaining such a situation to her child, she wouldn’t know where to begin. Outside of nobility mates were chosen for love (or for a badly-timed romp) and that was what she hoped for Yuki when she grew up: a mate who would care for her in all the most meaningful ways.

Yui wandered back out of her suite to the balcony doors and pressed down on the handles. Locked. She pouted. Fresh air would have done her good. Perhaps it was for the best that she keep the cold out. She could hardly stand it outside when she had been walked through the courtyard and into the waiting chamber to be presented before the First Princess. The other omegas had shucked off fine coats and covers once it was time to make their impression on the princess. Yui had all she’d been stood in. And now she didn’t even have that.

She withdrew her beads from her bust and stroked them for comfort. What she really wanted was direction. Someone to tell her what to do next. How best to navigate such a ridiculous situation. She sighed. Rest. That was all she could do. Lie herself down and attempt to prepare herself for the First Princess’ return. Yui hid herself back in the suite to do just that.

A light knock roused her from her doze. Then a more insistent one had Yui back on her feet.

“Y-yes?”

“Supper is being served,” was called through the door.

“Thank you!”

Yui flapped at her skirt, batting away invisible dust and flattening any creases she may have accidentally created. She smoothed her long hair with her fingers and pinched her cheeks for a natural blush. It would not do to look unkempt at dinner with royalty.

However, when she emerged from the suite, Bellona was not present. Yui approached the dining table slowly, waiting for the alpha to appear out of the darkness like a wolf on the hunt. A servant offered her the nearest chair with a wave of his hand and she accepted with a polite smile. Wide gaps were carved out between seat and back to account for much larger tails, Yui noticed. Her tiny puff might not even hang over. She hopped up and scooted back until her knees met the edge. Forget hanging over, her tail couldn’t reach the opening at all. A servant slid the chair forward until it met the table, getting Yui as close as possible. She thanked them quietly and they bobbed their head.

The meal, platters of enough food for a troop of soldiers, was organised across the dining table with precision that set Yui’s nose twitching nervously. If the First Princess was so particular, it would be dangerous for Yui not to know her preferences.

“My apologies, First Mate, but the First Princess will not be joining your for supper.” The servants stole back all the dishes that contained meat as quickly as they had set them out. The majority of the table bared. “Her work keeps her busy.” There was no need to explain anything to Yui, but this woman seemed softer. “She will take her meal in the barracks.” She smiled sadly, as though Yui must have been truly looking forward to having a carnivorous alpha watch her eat.

Yui smiled back gratefully. Grateful for the servant’s gentleness and moreso grateful that she could eat in peace. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course, First Mate.”

The title sent uncomfortable shivers over her skin. Unease remained with the lingering of the First Princess’ staff. None let their eyes settle upon her, all keeping gaze with ornaments about the room, and yet the silent pressure continued. They awaited her filled stomach.

Yui sat up taller, glancing between her plate and the serving dishes spread out ahead. A younger servant flittered along the longer edge of the table, eager to ladle.

“Please-”

“Yes, First Mate?” The girl was at her side like a phantom, her stubby cat tail flicking the backs of her thighs. It brought Yui’s mind to her daughter, to telling her to mind her tail when she was playing. Her eyes prickled for a moment. She hid a sniff behind her napkin before laying it over her lap.

“Please may I have a spoonful of every dish?” For the most part, she at least recognised the vegetation piled ahead of her, since they looked simply boiled.

“Of course, First Mate.” The girl obliged swiftly, creating a clock-like display on Yui’s plate of tasting portions.

Yui took her first tentative bite, wary of her rusty table manners. Years away from the noble table, eating almost exclusively squeezed in with Yuki, had left her open to having forgotten the proper ways. This concern fled her mind before her utensils could lower – chased away by the lack of flavour in the cabbage she had just filled her mouth with. Her eyes had not deceived her. This was simply boiled.

She swallowed and did her best not to look put off. Her fork pierced visibly unseasoned kale and there was a distinct soggy texture. She ate it still. It would be rude to shake it off the end of her tines. And now her plate contained a dab of each dish, she should make the effort with a bite of every one. No food went to waste at home. No food in her home was this bland and mushy, though.

The meal had hardly arrived hot, but it was positively chilled by the time she had circled every section of her plate. She took a moment to breathe, hoping the staff would take the gesture as a sign that she was well-fed for the night, and folded her napkin to place beside her plate.

“Thank you ever so much. That was lovely,” she lied.

The servants swarmed the table, snatching back the dishes and carting them away. As the last one hurried away their assigned pot, mutterings swept through the group: the princess was coming. They rushed to plump pillows, shake throws, wipe the table of any drips or droppings. Yui watched them in a fresh panic, realising she had no way to free herself from her tucked-up chair without some very indecent climbing. She pushed at the arms of her chair with her palms, testing her weight. Perhaps she could slide over and­-

When Bellona entered, Yui was rigid. Her ears fell back, cowering behind her own head.

“Leave.”

Yui moved to escape her chair, high-backed and high-armed, it wasn’t built for a herbivore to easily climb out of. At least she no longer cared about looking ridiculous while she did – if the First Princess ordered her out, that meant by any means necessary!

“Not you, my mate.”

Yui stilled, stuffed between table edge and chair arm. She couldn’t bring herself to look up from the rug, afraid of what emotion she might see in the First Princess’ face. Of that same anger of earlier. She heard the last of the footsteps leave and the door close, then heavier boots approaching.

A repetition of their first meeting. Yui peeked up hesitantly. She should greet her, she knew, but not how to. A highborn alpha should be addressed as alpha, but she was the First Princess and that seemed a more fitting title for Yui to use if only Bellona had not already called her mate…

“Should I call someone back in to shake you?”

“P-pardon, First Princess?”

Bellona did not repeat herself. The tinny sounds of the silver in her hair ringing together followed her closing in. The peal of danger. She brought her nose an inch from Yui’s hair and inhaled. If Yui had so much as trembled, they would have been knocked together. She was completely and truly still, holding her breath for good measure. Bellona was the opposite, shifting around her, sniffing lavishly as though Yui were a flower in her garden. All Bellona’s to enjoy. The grey of her eyes had darkened, which seemed something far too intimate for a lowborn herbivore to know about her future queen. Such was the anxious thoughts that raced the mind of a rabbit paralysed with fear.

Bellona pulled away before Yui fainted from her stillness and stormed off through one of the many doors that lined the parlour. Yui released her breath and fell limp over the arm of the chair. She needed a moment to gather herself. To make sense of where she had gone wrong in their interaction. The First Princess was angry with her, that much she could deduce. Had Yui’s lack of response displeased her further? It seemed safest to behave politely but neutrally. Bellona was the alpha, let her lead.

A servant hurried out from the door Bellona had disappeared behind and flustered Yui. This was not the place to be feeling sullen. Certainly not the place to be looking sullen either. She finally pried herself free of her seat and restrained herself from flat-out running back to her suite. Some dignity had to be retained if she was to be the First Mate. The servant bowed and Yui bobbed her head back.

First Mate for how long though, she wondered as she washed up for bed. At what point did her punishment end? When had she been made a fool of enough? And above all else – when would she see her daughter again?

A pair of attendants knocked to offer their services in preparing Yui for bed. She had already put herself into the night dress laid out on the clothes horse and peeled back the tightly-tucked covers, so she declined their aid for tonight. They promised to return in the morning, which Yui agreed to gratefully. She had worn slip-on dresses since halfway through her pregnancy with Yuki; these extremely embellished dresses with all sorts of seals and ties the nobles wore were practically foreign to her now.

She climbed into bed, checking things off in her mind like she would at home. Door shut, candles blown out, no windows to close… no daughter to kiss goodnight.