Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 503

Chapter 5: My Study Partner

*Lena*

Abigail was running her fingers through my hair, her fingers twisting my pale golden locks into a tight braid.

"I’m going to miss doing this for you," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she tied the end of the braid with a ribbon.

"I won't be gone forever. Just six weeks, maybe less," I replied, turning to face her. I wrapped her in an embrace, taking a deep breath as we sat on a bench on the train platform in Morhan. We'd spent the last three days packing up my meager belongings into a trunk and saying our goodbyes, which had included one last night out along the strip of bars that lined the street below our apartment.

Heather and Viviene were back at home, studying for their finals this upcoming week and preparing for their field studies. Abigail should have been studying too, but she’d insisted on walking me to the train station.

"I'm going to Mirage for my study," she breathed, leaning against the bench with her feet propped up on the trunk. I smiled at her, arching my brow. She met my eye and smirked, rolling her eyes. "The florist who makes the arrangements for the castle asked for a student from Morhan, and I applied."

"I’m not surprised you got it," I grinned, nudging her with my elbow.

Abigail, always oozing with confidence, was mum about her studies. She came from a family of flower farmers in southern Findali, and grew up poor, but she hadn't let that stop her. She was incredibly gifted and could name a type of flower just by touching the petals, or by smell, even if she had her eyes closed. Her flower arrangements that often littered our apartment had always been insanely extravagant.

But being a florist was something most students at Morhan thumbed their noses at, often putting more stock into being a biologist or climate scientist. I often thought that chipped away at Abigail, especially with Heather, Viv, and I being her roommates.

But Abigail's creations added beauty to our mundane, textbook-filled world.

"Maybe you'll make arrangements for the Luna Queen to fawn over while she sips her afternoon tea," I teased, nudging her again.

Abigail smiled, shaking her head. "I am excited about it, you know, despite how I act.

Maybe I'll catch a glimpse of one of the princes of Poldesse. I heard they come to Mirage quite often."

I shrugged, leaning back against the bench and looking out over the train tracks.

"Or, maybe I'll see the princess. I don't think I've ever even seen a picture of her."

"Me neither," I said, twirling my braid around my finger. "I've heard she's quite reclusive."

do, I promise." Abigail patted me on

standing up and slinging a duffle bag over my shoulder. "Maybe

about that, Lena," Abigail warned, motioning for the station attendant to help us with

of us. "I don't know who, but I'll have a partner to work with during the next couple of weeks. I won't be alone, so don't worry about me,

on the train, watching as her bright, red hair faded from

my seat and watched Morhan fade from view. The rolling grasslands of western Finaldi sped past as I slipped in and out of sleep. It was a six- hour journey to Crimson Creek; one

career. I’d said my goodbyes to friends, and my beloved roommates. I'd packed up the room

glimpse of Slate,

was the past. Whatever happened in Crimson

Sunday afternoon, and a small market was visible in the distance as I stood on the train platform. The town was quaint, with little more than two or three rows of stone buildings before the buildings began to scatter

several miles away, however, the black, gnarled

my head, seeing a

the train tracks and turning its lights off. A

the trunk and duffle bag sitting on the ground next to me. I nodded, and she arched her brow,

trunk and walk it across the platform and down the stairs. "I didn't know they'd gotten here before me," I murmured, slightly

showed up at the farm last night. We didn't even

lifted the trunk into the bed of the truck. Bethany shrugged, clapping her hands

bunch of gear with him and started bossing all of us

seat with my

her breath as the truck protested

she laughed, patting the steering wheel.

"Sure," I said, smiling.

She smelled like soil, and green things, which sent a thrill through me.

Breakfast is at seven sharp, if you miss it, too bad. We have a

I asked, glancing over at

piled messily on top of her head. She was also very petite, though likely an inch taller than me, but her voice betrayed her

bad harvest this year. This is only my second season on the farm, but compared to last year, it’s a near

I asked, narrowing my

to test the soil today, see if he can pinpoint exactly what

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