The War God Alpha's Arranged Bride (Evelyn and Alexander) novel Chapter 43

**Steps Along Forgotten Roads**
**By Sophia Reed**
**Chapter 43: A Secret Tip**

Evelyn’s POV

“Now, listen carefully, Evelyn. When you find yourself seated at a table like this one, with nothing being served at the moment, it’s essential to maintain a straight posture. Keep your shoulders back and your head aligned,” Alexander instructed, his voice steady and clear.

I attempted to comply, but as soon as I straightened my back, a sharp discomfort flickered through my spine. Was this sensation typical? Or perhaps I had just woken up with a tense body after a restless night?

For what felt like an eternity, he circled around me, his hands gently adjusting my shoulders and ensuring my chin was at the perfect height.

The delicate touch of his fingers against my skin sent a wave of warmth coursing through me, igniting sensations I had never experienced before. Was it making this whole ordeal easier or was it complicating matters even further?

The more I endeavored to maintain this awkward stance, the more difficult it became to suppress the grimace that threatened to break through my facade. Each time Alexander cast a glance my way, I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, intensifying my discomfort.

He quickly noticed my struggle, halting his guidance as concern flickered in his eyes.

“Evelyn?” he asked, his tone shifting slightly, a hint of worry evident.

“I just…” I winced, reaching behind me to press the heel of my hand against the aching spot in the middle of my back. “God, I don’t understand how anyone can sit like this. It’s so incredibly stiff.”

Perhaps this was the reason why Isabella, Caroline, and so many others carried themselves with such arrogance and disdain. Why would anyone willingly subject themselves to such a rigid posture? Was it to showcase their status?

None of it made sense to me. Why was this even important?

Suddenly, I felt his large, warm hands settle on my shoulders. A rush of air caught in my lungs, and my body instinctively tensed at the unexpected contact.

“W-What—”

“Relax,” he murmured softly, his thumbs pressing gently into my sore shoulder blades. “I believe you’re overthinking this.”

“It’s hard not to when I constantly feel like I’m being scrutinized and judged,” I muttered in response, a hint of frustration lacing my words.

As he applied more pressure, my head involuntarily dipped forward, and a shaky breath escaped my lips. I found myself leaning into his skilled hands, craving the relief they provided.

Good God. This feels incredible.

No one had ever touched me like that before. It was a struggle to suppress the urge to moan, the tension that had been trapped in my muscles beginning to dissolve under his ministrations.

“None of their opinions matter,” he reassured me, his voice firm yet gentle.

My brows knitted together in confusion. “How can you say that? If that were true, then why would anyone willingly endure this?”

I felt his hands pause, and then, with deliberate care, he pulled me back to face him. His expression was inscrutable, a mix of concern and determination.

“Then why are you putting yourself through this?” he challenged, his gaze unwavering.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he was quick to interject.

“Evelyn, your determination to take these lessons is merely a façade, an attempt to prove to others that you belong and deserve the title that has been thrust upon you. Ever since the Luna gathering, you’ve been a different person. Yet, you refuse to share what transpired.”

I turned my head away, frustration bubbling within me. “I’ve already told you that it’s not worth discussing. It’s irrelevant now.”

His voice grew more intense, filled with indignation. “Someone said something that clearly disturbed you. It affected you enough to put yourself through all of this. And yet, you claim it doesn’t matter?”

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