Alpha's Rejected Mate Returns as Queen

380 Marriage

Emma’s POV:

Selma had been gone for almost a week. It had been a peaceful week, and there was nothing to be proud of, whether within the elves or the werewolves.

I was getting used to being a trainee secretary under the Lycan King. At least my seniors were kind and didn’t push me out because of my qualifications or identity as a parachuted soldier. I worked hard to learn all the skills needed to contribute to a country. I knew that this was necessary to assist Selma in the future. It was also the capital for me to settle down.

My life was not bad, but my biggest worry still stemmed from my family.

My home... Could that place still be called home? A place that was constantly staring at me with greedy eyes, trying to tear off my flesh and blood to support itself. Was that still my home? Were the people there really my family, and not some evil spirit that had quietly invaded?

I’d endured, cried, and fought. As my tears of blood dripped, I finally understood that I had to pull myself out of the quagmire of depravity. If I wanted to save my family and my family, I must not sink with them.

Taking ten thousand steps back, if everything were set in stone, I would at least preserve a trace of my family’s bloodline to repay the kindness of raising me for more than twenty years.

As for my ‘rebellion’, my grandpa’s approval from the beginning had turned into tacit approval. I couldn’t pry into his heart, but I had a vague feeling: Did he see the end of the family, so he took my departure as an opportunity-an opportunity to continue?

I couldn’t be sure that he was no longer the kind and always smiling grandfather I remembered when I was a child.

Maybe he never had that kind of image, and I was the only one who changed. As the youngest granddaughter, ‘Emma could accept all of her grandfather’s love at the cost of being bound to the high gate and courtyard like a puppet by gorgeous gold thread. As a female attendant and trainee secretary, Emma had to face the real world, no matter how cold it was or how hopeful and bright it was.’

The work of a trainee secretary needed to be fixed, and the affairs to deal with were very messy. The overwhelming amount of boring documents would give one a headache, but these boring words could subtly influence one to understand the true appearance of one’s country.

One day, I was sorting out some monthly financial reports when Bertha suddenly came to me and told me that my parents had arrived and wanted to see me.

My parents?

I frowned, my intuition telling me something was wrong.

“The last time they came to Selma, I quarreled with them because of it. I swore I wanted to be calm, but being treated like a three-year-old girl and being reproached without restraint still made me burn with anger.

After that, we didn’t keep in contact. They couldn’t stay in the palace every day if I didn’t go home. This ‘cold war’ life gave me a little more breathing space.

What were they doing here?

I didn’t know why, but I felt they were up to no good when they visited me while Selma was away. After all, my greatest ‘backing’ right now was Selma. In the past, they had to respect the princess, but now, they could act like my parents whenever they wanted.

I rejected her reflexively, but Bertha told me my parents came to discuss my ‘marriage’.

My anger suddenly flared up. I suddenly stood up and toppled the chair behind me. The loud noise startled Bertha, which also attracted my colleagues’ attention.

In response to their concern, I smiled and said I was fine. I immediately pulled Bertha and left.

In an empty corner, I thanked Bertha bitterly, “Thank you for informing me. I will go and see my parents. Where are they?”

Bertha said they were waiting for me in the public living room.

I thanked her again and was about to leave when I heard Bertha hesitantly call out, “You don’t want to see young Mr. And Mrs. Evaria? Actually, you don’t have to see them. I can reject them on your behalf and say that you’re in a meeting and can’t leave for a while.”

I admitted that the proposal tempted me, but I refused. “Thank you, Bertha, but some things can’t be avoided. I have to face them myself.”

Bertha nodded in confusion. “Alright then... Good luck to you, Miss Emma.”

In the public living room, my helpless parents were indeed there. As usual, they embroidered their family emblems in every corner of their clothes and whispered about the tea and snacks provided by the palace as if they usually ate gold and drank silver.

“Good afternoon, Father, Mother.” I tried to speak to them politely. “How have you been? I’m sorry that I haven’t been paying much attention to my family recently. You know that I’m too busy with work.”

My father nodded in all apparent seriousness. “Yes, yes. As the secretary to His Majesty, the number of things you have to deal with usually pile up to a higher level than the Moon Palace. We understand that. You don’t have to worry. Focus on work. Remember to tell your family if there’s anything. We’ll do our best to help you.”