Trapped with the Alpha King (Althea) novel Chapter 165

Attention

“That’s a magnificent performance we haven’t witnessed before!” Minister Marcus praised, still clapping with genuine awe.

It was the first time she had ever felt something like this, being praised in front of a crowd for her performance. For once, she truly felt a sense of achievement.

“Thank you, Lord Marius, I am glad you like the presentation,” Althea smiled sweetly, relief washing over her.

She was glad her performance went well. Who would have thought she could still perfect it after thirteen long years since she last practiced it? But it was probably her willpower to make Gavriel proud and not let him down that pushed her to do so well.

The royal court officials began to gather around her, joined by nobles from every corner of the hall. Their excitement was almost tangible, their smiles bright and curious as they praised her.

It was overwhelming—their voices, their applause, the way their eyes followed her every movement.

Althea tried to stay composed, though her heart was racing. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention.

All her life, she had been shunned, whispered about, and kept in the background. Now, she was standing at the center of it all, with the kingdom’s most powerful figures looking at her not with scorn, but with admiration.

Through the crowd’s hum, stray thoughts brushed against her mind—soft, scattered impressions she couldn’t ignore.

‘She’s remarkable…’

‘That performance was unlike anything I’ve seen.’

Her chest tightened at the sincerity she heard in their minds. There were still a few whispers of doubt.

‘Cain’s daughter?’

‘Magic instead of a wolf?’

But most of what surrounded her was genuine amazement. It felt strange, this warmth that filled the space where fear used to be.

“I heard you saved Azath Town using your magic,” said Lord Darel, the Minister of Faith, his eyes bright with interest. “I guess those weren’t just rumors, after all.”

But before Althea could even react, another voice joined in, this time curious and sharp.

“So is it true, then?” Minister Ariel, the Minister of Rites, tilted his head slightly. “That you’re not really Cain’s daughter?”

A faint hush spread among the nobles nearby. The sound of the musicians had faded, replaced by low murmurs and expectant stares. Althea froze, her fingers tightening against the soft folds of her gown.

She hadn’t expected this. The question was direct, too direct and the weight of so many eyes on her made her chest feel tight.

All her life, she had believed without a doubt that Alpha Cain was her father. She had never questioned it, not even once. But now, Gavriel’s actions made her wonder. He was the one who started spreading the rumor that she wasn’t Cain’s daughter, and she knew he had sent his men to secretly investigate the truth.

Before she could even open her mouth, Gavriel’s deep voice cut through the crowd.

“You all saw how she performed just now,” he said evenly, his tone calm but commanding.

Finally, she closed her eyes, trying to regain composure. When she opened them again, she rose from her seat and turned to Marius, who was still smiling faintly from the earlier performance.

“I will go ahead first,” she said softly. “I’m not feeling well.”

Marius immediately stepped forward. “Then I’ll walk you back, Your Grace—”

Wilma gently raised her hand, stopping him. “No, stay. This is your night, Marius. You’re the host, and everyone’s waiting for you.” Her tone was calm but firm.

Just then, Ava stepped closer with a polite smile. “If Her Grace isn’t feeling well, I can accompany her back to her chambers,” she offered sweetly. “I wouldn’t want her to walk alone.”

Wilma turned to her slowly, her gaze sharp though outwardly composed. She remembered Gavriel’s warning—Ava and Nilda, the two who had tried to suppress Riela’s recovery.

At first, she hadn’t wanted to believe it. But Nilda had been attending to her daughter day and night since Riela lost her sanity. And Ava would often visit her daughter and stay with her.

Her lips pressed into a faint, tired line. “There’s no need, Ava. I can go alone,” Wilma said, her tone polite but distant.

Ava’s expression faltered for a second before she quickly regained her composure. “Of course, Your Grace,” she murmured, bowing slightly.

Wilma was exhausted—mentally and emotionally drained from everything that had happened. All she wanted now was for her daughter to recover. One week, she reminded herself. Starting tomorrow, she would wait patiently… but if Riela didn’t improve, she would no longer stand idly by.