across the table, she flashed him her most brilliant smile, even though she knew smiling only detracted slightly from her plainness. “Doctor, I’m afraid I missed your name. But since you’re here, why don’t you tell me why you think I should consider marrying you rather than someone else? We can save a lot of time that way.”
To her astonishment, the doctor nearly choked on the wine he’d been about to drink. Carefully setting the glass down, he blotted his mouth with the napkin before he cocked his head toward her. “I think you misunderstand,” he began. “Actually, I believe you’re a bit confused as to the purpose of my visit.”
Again she had that odd reaction to his voice, which both infuriated and inexplicably energized her. And for him to say she was confused? Now that was fresh. Most of her prior suitors had carefully avoided commenting on her intelligence, even though that was the one thing she truly liked about herself. Brains over beauty, this had been the hand she’d been dealt. She’d long ago stopped longing to be more like her glamorous older sisters.
“Misunderstand what?” Her tone came out a bit sharper than she’d intended, causing her father to reach over and cover her hand with his in a gentle warning.
Taking a deep breath, she continued in a much softer voice. “Are you or are you not here because you want to apply for my hand in marriage?”
King Leo cleared his throat and started to speak. To her shock, the doctor held up a hand to silence him. The king. He dared to silence the king. Hiding her glee, she waited for the eruption. Any moment now, all hell would break loose.
To her surprise, nothing happened. Her father’s always-mercurial temper appeared to be on hiatus. Instead of acting infuriated as he should be, her father appeared to find this man hugely amusing. What she didn’t understand was why. Had her parents truly given up all hope for her?
Apparently completely unaware, the doctor leaned forward. “About your assumption that I’m here as your … what, suitor? I’m not. Not at all.”
“Really?” she repeated. “But—”
He continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. “That’s a bit arrogant of you, isn’t it? Do you automatically believe that any man who visits has some sort of over-reaching desire for you?”
Arrogant? He really didn’t know her at all, did he? She would have thought the man would have at least bothered to do some research on her before his arrival.
Opening her mouth, she eyed his blasted dark glasses. Her father’s glare and her mother’s slow shake of the head made her close it without giving any sort of rebuttal.
“I can assure you,” he said, his low, impossibly rich voice vibrating with certainty, “I have absolutely zero interest in marrying you, or anyone else for that matter.”
Stunned, she sat back in her chair. To further the surreal aspect of it all, neither of her parents commented. At all. Even if he wasn’t here to court her, even though it was the twenty-first century, who talked to a princess like that? Who talked to anyone like that? Honestly.
As she pondered how to respond, her mother leaned forward and took Alisa’s hand, gently squeezing. “Honey, Dr. Streib is here because we asked him to come for medical reasons. You know we’ve been concerned about your health. And even in America, Dr. Streib learned of your situation. He’s traveled all this way because of that.”
Mortified and horrified, Alisa finally realized what Doctor what’s-his-name was doing here. “They called you because they think I’m sick.” Saying this, she felt queasy.
Expressionless, sunglasses still hiding his eyes, he nodded. “I am a doctor, yes. But—”
This time she interrupted him. “Honestly, I’m sorry they wasted your time. Which they have.” Turning her attention to her most likely ally, her father, she tried to keep her voice level. “Dad. There is nothing wrong with me. Just because I haven’t shifted into wolf lately …”
“Six months is not ‘lately.’” Despite the steely look in his eyes, like her he kept his tone mild. “You know as well as I do that you need to change more often. Everyone does.”
“I don’t. I’ve told you—”
“Yes, you have. And your story has become well known in not only our country, but all around the world. So much so that Dr. Streib contacted us from the United States and expressed a wish to examine you. Your mother—and I,” he added pointedly, “are both very concerned over your mental well-being.”
“I’m fine.” She’d grown weary of the old argument. Ever since she’d first shape-shifted, with no inclination or yearning to do so again on any regular basis, her parents had worried. Until she’d become a teenager, her mother had made shifting to wolf a family event, something that they did every weekend, as regularly as other families went to church or to the mall. This had been their way to ensure Alisa changed regularly. She’d actually come to enjoy these little outings, the royal pack of wolves running and hunting and playing together in the rugged mountains near the palace.
But once she and her siblings had grown older, her sisters had gotten married, and her mother had weddings to plan and grandchildren to dote over. The family get-togethers had stopped and Alisa had changed less and less frequently.
Unlike apparently everyone else in the Pack, she didn’t feel a craving or compulsion to become wolf. In truth, she hadn’t cared if she remained human forever. Actually, she hadn’t even been aware six months had passed since the last time she shape-shifted. And she certainly hadn’t realized her parents were still keeping track.
Now, they were so concerned about her mental health that they’d invited this man into their home. Was he a psychologist? Because according to conventional wisdom, her ability to remain in her human form for a longer period of time than most meant that she should be stark raving mad.
The fact that she wasn’t continued to astound everyone.
“Then you are here to psychoanalyze me?” she asked, hurt despite herself. “You are going to make sure I’m not crazy, is that it?”
“No. I’m not that kind of doctor,” he began.
“Doctor Streib is a top neurosurgeon,” her mother said, still holding Alisa’s hand. “He has also made a career out of studying the brain. He is here because he believes that your ability could have great benefits for our kind if it can be replicated.”
Replicated? Eyeing her parents, who until now had seemed remarkably indulgent of her many imperfections, she began to wonder if they were only making up this nonsense to soothe her wounded pride over the fact that they believed she needed a psychiatrist.
“Do you think I’ve gone mad?” she asked bluntly, holding her father’s gaze.
King Leo blinked before slowly shaking his head.
“Good.” Now Alisa turned to face her mother. “How about you, Mom?”
“Of course not,” Queen Ionna hastened to reassure her, while her father watched, amusement glinting in his bright blue eyes. All of the family had those same sapphire eyes, except Alisa. Hers were the color of sea foam.
“I don’t think you’re crazy, dear,” the queen finished.
“No? Then why have you sent for this man?” she wondered out loud. “Have I shown a single sign of mental instability?”
“No, of course not,” her father said, his mouth twitching in an obvious attempt to keep from smiling. Her mother shook her head in agreement, while the boorish doctor continued to stare, his sunglasses reflecting back her distorted image.
“Then why?” Shooting a wry look at both her parents, she waited for someone—anyone—to state the obvious—that this had been a colossal mistake.
When no one did, Alisa glared at the doctor and did it herself.
“I’m fine,” she repeated. “Dr. Streib,