His Spitfire Mate

Little Wins

I wake up early to the birds chirping and the sun shining in my eyes. All I have to do is start signing back to the birds and I would be a fairytale princess. I settle for walking out onto the balcony, excited to smell the morning dew. Little wins is today's theme. However, I'm disappointed by the absence of the smell of morning dew. I guess the evening wasn't cool enough.

I walk back inside but leave the balcony doors open. I fall back on the bed and enjoy the feeling of the morning breeze and the cooling sensation it creates when it hits my silk nighty. The sensation makes my n*****s harden, and I wish, not for the first time, that I knew how to quell the inner feelings I sometimes get that make me feel like my core is on fire. I enjoy the feeling until it starts to become frustrating, then I get up to start my day.

I may not be at home, but I believe it's safe to assume that my normal schedule applies. I shower and moisturize, then put some product in my hair before letting it dry naturally. My mother likes me to be a blank canvas on days when she will be taking me out in public. Her perfect little doll. As I look in the mirror at my reflection my mood starts to drop knowing that my mothers expects me to be her little Barbie, silent and pretty. I give my head shake and remind myself that today is about little wins.

"You look healthy," I say to my reflection, and I really do mean it, my moisturizer is amazing.

Of course, there are now clothes laid out to start the day. Honestly, I secretly love having my clothes laid out for me. Whoever is responsible always gets it right. I am never too hot or too cold and I always feel so chic. I love clothes and the confidence I feel wearing an amazing outfit but I don't have the first clue about putting an actual outfit together, or even worse, a whole wardrobe. It is super weird though that I don't know who is responsible. I can't handle the thought of it potentially being my mom so I try not to think too hard about it. I also comfort myself with the thought that she would most likely see it as a servant's job and therefore would never lower herself to the task.

Once I'm dressed I head out to the breakfast parlour where my mother is sipping tea and pouring over a schedule. I sit down across from her where a plate is set and survey what she has chosen. This morning it's poached eggs, tomato and avocado, not too bad.

"Here, this is your schedule," my mother says handing me a folder, "and for any unscheduled time I expect you to remain in this room. I will have learning materials I expect you to study thoroughly so as not to be embarrassed by you."

"Yes mother," I reply docilely while eating my breakfast.

"We have a welcome luncheon today and I will expect you to know everything in this binder by the time you arrive," she says handing me a large binder. "The maid will be here to dress you at noon. Be ready."

My mother stands and leaves the room without any further discussion. She knows she doesn't need to issue any threats for me to stay in line today. She made her point clear yesterday. The rest of this trip would be transactional in private and mildly affectionate in public. The short interaction means I can enjoy the rest of my breakfast alone, another small win.

The binder has me curious and when I open it I find a treasure trove of information. I wander back out to the balcony and get comfortable as I get ready to read through the contents. The book is an index of all the most important families and packs in North America. Names, ages, mates, family trees, it is absolutely fascinating. I easily spend my morning flipping from page to page learning all that I can. It's like reading a gossip magazine. And then there are things that aren't specifically written but that can be inferred, such as when an Alpha has a mate and a wife, meaning he chose someone over his mate.

There is also a lot of information that can point to pack politics and alliances. For example, daughters of alphas mated or married to an alpha of another pack. The family of the Bloodmoon pack in the West had one son and three daughters. It can be considered a risk to only have one son in terms of succession, but in this case it all ended well because the son grew up and had three sons with his mate and the three daughters were mated to Alpha's of other nearby packs. While I have never been to the West Coast, it's been common knowledge my whole life that life has been peaceful and prosperous there and many complain of losing shifters to them. Now, with these details, I have a better idea as to why that is.

I am able to enjoy the morning and finish reading the contents of the binder while sipping coffee and every once in a while getting whiffs of dew on the breeze. Maybe they use some kind of detergent or there is a flower close by letting off a dew-like smell.

When noon rolls around, a maid enters my room and I take a seat and she starts on my makeup.

"I'm Josie, by the way," I say to make this less awkward.

"Amelie," she respond softly, "but you can call me Ami."

"Thank you for your help today. I really appreciate it."

I detect a light French accent making me think she is from the Alpine Pack in the Quebec region. I would love to speak to her in French, but I know not to trust maids. Our pack borders theirs, so it's important for good relations that we speak the language.

She gives me a timid smile but meets my eyes this time before she continues with the preparations.

By 12:30pm I'm dressed in a beautiful lavender dress. The bodice is tight and flares out perfectly at my waist, falling just below the knee. Delicate frill straps hang off my shoulders, leaving my neck open for a beautiful necklace. My hair is in a soft updo that makes me feel like a character from a Jane Austen novel. The outfit is finished off with a classic pair of purple pumps, one shade darker than the dress. One good thing about my mother is she believes that a comfortable closed-in stiletto pump is a classic staple and after wearing them for so long, they might as well be sneakers for how comfortable they have become.

I head out to the main area to meet my mother. She inspects me quickly, nods and says, "Let's go."