Surrogate for the Alpha Prince in a Coma novel Chapter 340

Chapter 340

Lillian’s POV

Grayson and I moved at once, each rushing to the other to close this terrible distance between us.

How strange. For five years, I had gone without him, but now, since being reunited, even going two days without him felt almost impossible.

His arms closed around me, and I melted against him.

“You’re here,” I whispered.

“I have you,” he said.

We held onto each other somewhat desperately, not wanting to be parted again. Too soon, one of the warriors stepped closer.

“Alpha, we cannot linger in the open like this.”

He was right.

Grayson gave me one final squeeze before stepping back.

Time for a reunion would come later. For now, we had a coronation to stop.

“This way,” I said, and led them inside.

Josephine’s POV

I debated with myself all morning, what to do. My mother wasn’t the true heir, I knew that, and I wouldn’t support her in that. But, was she truly the hardened monster that Reginald and Lillian saw her as? Or was my mother still inside somewhere, waiting to be saved?

If I tried to speak to her once more, would I be able to reach her?

This question helped me ultimately decide. She was my mother, and this felt like my responsibility. I wasn’t a great leader like Grayson, or a warrior like Lillian. I was a princess, sure, but above that, I was just a girl who loved her mother.

That drove me to the door of her chambers as she was getting ready. I raised a hand, hesitated, but then knocked.

A guard opened the door. I recognized him as the one my mother had been having a secret tryst with. A sour taste filled my mouth.

He looked at me with suspicion.

“I want to speak with my mother,” I said.

From inside, I heard my mother’s voice. “My daughter is always welcome.”

The door opened, and I stepped inside, ignoring the quiet, distasteful gaze of the guard. Farther in the room, my mother stood in front of a full length mirror. Her gown was breathtaking, entirely gold with sparkling gemstones stitched into the bodice.

She was beautiful, ethereal, like a fantastical fairy from the children’s books.

Yet, as gorgeous as she was in the gown, my heart sank. So many people in the kingdom were suffering. The war

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might have been done, but the money hadn’t returned to the people yet. So many struggled to feed themselves and their families, or to have rooves over their heads.

And here my mother was, the new leader of the kingdom, looking like the very symbol of decadence.

How much did this dress cost? Did she not understand how hungry people were? Could she not see that flaunting her wealth in front of them was only pushing them more toward rebellion?

Or was it as I feared most, and she simply didn’t care?

“What do you think?” she asked, gesturing toward her dress.

“It’s beautiful, but…”

“But?” she prompted.

I wanted to tell her the truth, had to stop myself from doing so. If I wanted to be able to convince her to give up her claim on the throne, insulting her dress and making her immediately defensive wasn’t the best way to do so.

Since finding it, I had spent every spare moment reading my father’s journal. I had even fallen asleep with it on my lap last night. I still wasn’t as far as I wanted to be, but my mother did appear in the journal – as a servant.

My father hadn’t commented on any other servant, but this one, he noted, was always underfoot. He wrote that he thought of sending her away, but his first wife, who was feeling unwell, seemed to like her.

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