Chapter 3: We Need to Have A Chat

Sophia's POV

Sunlight streams through the crystal window panes, casting rainbow patterns across the room and illuminating a breakfast table that looks like it belongs in a magazine. Silver cutlery gleams, champagne-colored silk curtains sway gently in the morning breeze.

I'm sitting on the edge of that massive four-poster bed, staring at all these delicacies I have absolutely no appetite for. My fingers trace the intricate embroidered patterns on the bedsheets without really seeing them.

"Miss Sophia, which gown would you like to wear today?" a maid asks softly. "There are dozens of custom pieces in the wardrobe made specially for you."

"I'll wear my own clothes."

"But Miss, Prince Marcus specifically requested..."

"I said I'll wear my own."

This feeling of being carefully tended to reminds me of my past life. Same luxurious room, same attentive service, and death waiting for me at the end of it all. The gentleness now is just a more refined cage.

I walk toward the door and gently turn the handle.

"Miss Sophia, where would you like to go?" a polite voice comes from outside.

"I want to walk in the garden."

"Sorry, but Prince Marcus said you shouldn't leave this area right now. It's not safe outside."

I'm standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the garden below through the curtains. Several noble ladies are having afternoon tea, their smiles looking fake as hell.

Pieces of their conversation drift up:

"That country Omega actually turned down everything?"

"Right? I thought she'd beg to be Marcus's mate in front of everyone. Would've been comedy gold."

"Probably for the best. These small-town types need a reality check."

In my past life, words like these would've hurt. Now they're exactly what I want to hear. I don't want anything to do with Marcus. I can't go through that death again, not when he claims to love me but lets others destroy me.

A gentle knock interrupts my thoughts.

"Come in."

The door opens, but it's not a maid. It's Thornfield himself, leaning on his walking stick, wearing that practiced smile politicians perfect.

About this energetic old politician, I forgot to mention. Besides being Victoria's father, he has another significant identity—he's the Alpha King's most influential assistant besides the Beta, and also Marcus's mentor.

This man pulls strings in the Royal Territory's political circles, there's hardly a secret he doesn't know or a deal he can't make. Every suggestion he offers can influence the direction of the entire werewolf kingdom, and his protégé Marcus is now his biggest political asset.

I think if I hadn't been blinded by love in my past life, this shrewd old man would have been more than happy to send this troublesome me away. But this time, maybe I can work with that.

"Miss Sophia, hope I'm not bothering you."

"Mr. Thornfield, what brings you here?"

"Think we need to have a chat. About your future."

He settles into the armchair like he owns the place. I stay standing, keeping distance between us.

"Your wanting to go back to Silver Creek Pack, I get it completely. Young Omega, away from family... of course you'd feel out of place."

"Yeah, I just want to go home."

"But you know Marcus's personality. Once he sets his mind on something..." He shakes his head. "Pretty much impossible to change."

"However, I might be able to help you out."

He pulls out a folder from his jacket and places it on the coffee table.

"This has info on some great guys in the Royal Territory. All well-educated, good careers, solid futures."

I glance at the folder but don't touch it.

"Sir, why would you help me?"

"Honestly, Miss Sophia, Marcus needs a Luna Queen with political connections. You saved his life, sure, but..." He pauses, flashing that calculating smile. "Feelings and politics are different games. My daughter Victoria's been trained since she was little to be Marcus's perfect match. She knows politics, diplomacy, how to survive with these sharks."

"If you'd cooperate with some meetings I set up, find yourself someone suitable, I guarantee I'll get you out of here safely."

"What about Marcus?"

"Would be good for everyone. You get freedom and a decent guy, Marcus gets a Luna Queen who actually fits."

The next afternoon, I'm sitting in the garden café. It's surrounded by perfect rose bushes, sunlight filtering through the umbrella onto the white tablecloth.

A polite-looking guy approaches my table. Expensive suit, every hair in place.

"You must be Miss Sophia. I'm Edward Harrison, Harrison Financial Group."

"Heard you saved Prince Marcus? Pretty impressive stuff."

"I just did what anyone would do."

"Too modest. Our family's been in the Royal Territory three generations, mainly financial investment..."

He drones on about his family history and assets like he's pitching a business deal. I nod politely, feeling absolutely nothing inside.

"If you're interested, think we could get to know each other better. I could definitely provide you with a comfortable lifestyle."

"Mr. Harrison, you seem nice, but..."

"I understand you need time to think it over. I can wait."

I see the calculation in his eyes, remembering all those people from my past life who "understood" me the same way.

"Sorry, but I don't think we'd work out."

Over the next few days, the meetings blur together.

The second guy: a doctor from some medical dynasty, only talking about hospital expansion and his research achievements.

The third: military contractor's heir, every word dripping with his hunger for power and status.

The fourth: tech company CEO who spent the whole afternoon showing off his wealth and connections.

They're all polite, educated, loaded, but they all seem to be reading from the same script. No real emotion, no genuine interest, just carefully wrapped self-serving calculations.

Each meeting makes it clearer that these setups are just another form of business transaction. They don't give a damn about me as a person, just the potential value that comes with being "the girl who saved Prince Marcus."

That night, moonlight streams through the curtains, bathing everything in silver light. I'm sitting on the bed edge after my shower, wearing silk pajamas.

I pick up my phone and look at the photo of my family on the screen. Mom and Dad standing in front of Silver Creek Pack's small clinic, their faces showing simple, genuine smiles.

These days of meetings have made it crystal clear that relationships in the Royal Territory are just one giant web of interests. Everyone's calculating, everyone's making deals.

I don't want this kind of life. Whether it's Marcus's obsessive control or the nobles' interest trading, none of it is what I'm looking for.

I need to find someone who can truly help me leave this place. Not these fake nobles, not these self-serving suitors, but someone who genuinely gets me.

Lost in these thoughts, I gradually drift off to sleep.