Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan Chapter 19
Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown
Chapter 19 Making Perfume
Tanya’s POV:
The moment the door swings open, I’m struck by a variety of delectable scents. My eyes widen as I
step inside and take in the sight of the quaint space in the attic. The room has been refurbished with a
large desk and several shelves full of equipment and ingredients.
There are several copper and ss distition stills, as well as various tubes, beakers, and droppers.
The shelves are lined with jars of dried herbs, barks, and resins. There are also vials with a variety of
solvents and oils.
Title of the document
The equipment and materials here are brand new and sophisticated, only of the highest quality. The
smells that fill the air are so delectable that my heart skips a beat. Marco has even provided a few
nk journals for me to record different forms and take notes.
It’s not just a hobby room; this is a fully stockedboratory for me to create perfumes and potions. The
little apothecary shop he’s made for me right in his townhouse is a dreame true. This space is
perfect for me, cozy and well equipped, so I canfortably spend hours in here doing what I love.
The thoughtfulness behind Marco’s gift fills me with warmth and joy.
He promised me a Valentine’s Day gift, but I never expected this. I had no idea he knew how much my
work meant to me, and the possibilities of what I could do with these supplies seem endless. There’s
so much I can experiment with, not justmercial perfumes but tinctures, lotions, balms, and all kinds
of fragrances.
I try to remind myself that this is just a formal gesture. Marco has made it clear that what he feels for
me is not love but rather a sense of marital duty and responsibility. I know I should be reasonable and
logical in response to his gift. But I believe that to create this room for me, at least in some way, Marco
must truly care for me, and I can’t help the joy and grat*itude that fills my heart.
Third POV:
Madame Carlotta is not only the owner of the capital’s sessful dress store, but she is also the most
prolific and respected fashion designer in the kingdom. She does not often make house calls, but on
this asion, she will make an exception for an old friend.
In preparation for the Autumn Equinox banquet, she visits Lily’s mother, Vivian Montenero, in her
home. Vivian wees Madame Carlotta with friendliness and enthusiasm, and the designer quickly
gets to work taking her measurements for the gown Vivian will wear to the banquet.
While Madame Carlotta gets to work, the two women chatter away happily.
“Honestly, Vivian, you should have seen it!” Madame Carlotta says with an excited smile. “I thought I
would never find someone who could wear the Treasure of the Store gown. But that girl prince Marco
brought back wore my masterpiece so perfectly, I gave her the dress!”
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Vivian Montenero arches a brow with interest at the news. She knows that even her daughter Lily and
the other nobledies of the court were never able to pull off the famous gown.
“She must be very special indeed if you let her keep your Treasure. Is she really so beautiful?”
Madame Carlotta nods eagerly.
“Yes! Her figure is slim but elegantly curved, with fair skin that looks like porcin and the most
stunning turquoise eyes that seem to match andpliment her husband’s. It’s like Marco’s eyes are
the fair blue of a clear sky, and his wife’s are the exotic blue-green of the sea. Honestly, they look like a
perfect couple.”
“She sounds lovely! If I ever get the chance, I would quite like to meet her,” Vivian exims.
“You should! She truly is lovely,” Madam Carlotta agrees. “And she’s not arrogant and spoiled like some
of the nobledies. When I saw her in my store, she was actually very sweet and polite. But enough
about that. Tell me about you! How have you been? How are your sons?”
Vivian smiles as the seamstress finishes her measure, telling her about her two sons. Lily’s elder
brothers are very different from each other but equally wonderful in their mother’s eyes. The eldest is
calm and steady, while the younger son is lively and outgoing. The two women continue talking for a
while, passing the time with pleasant conversation and catching up on thetest gossip.
Tanya’s POV:
Ever since I discovered the collection of extraordinary fragrant potions created by the Monteneros, I’ve
fantasized about recreating them. There is one in particr that is said to fight allergies, quickly
relieving the symptoms of a reaction.
Using the equipment in theboratory that Marco got me, I try to recreate the special perfume from
memory. Unfortunately, I think the form calls for an extract of butterbur flower, which is rare in these
parts of the kingdom. I don’t have any of it in stock in the little perfumery in the attic, so instead, I use a
combination of ginger root and apple blossom to replicate the scent.
Hours begin to pass as I extract and distill the oils of various nts, and I add licorice root and stinging
nettle to try and match the aroma in my memory. Much to my dismay, I can’t get the final step right. I try
to mix the solution, adding the ethanol to the oils and extracts, but the liquids don’t blend right. Each
attempt ends in a pungent, oily ck mess as the substance boils and burns in all the wrong ways.
Every failure is more discouraging than thest.
At one point, the bubbling beaker overheats as I try to distill the mixture yet again, causing it to break. A
startled yelp escapes me as the ss bursts, sending small shards flying. I struggle to clean up, feeling
utterly defeated.
Perhaps I made was wrong. I was convinced that I could replicate the perfume from the special
collection or at least create something simr, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t get it right.
One of the ss shards from the explosion cut my palm, and I wince at the stinging pain. With a sigh, I
start to clean up a bit, pushing past the crushing disappointment. I’m determined to try just one more
time.
Once again, I extract the oils from the selected nts and add the solvent. When I carefully bring the
fluids to a boil, I can’t help but panic slightly at the sight of little ck bubbles appearing. I rush to stir
the elixir, desperate to prevent the chemicals from reacting badly again.
In my haste, a drop of blood slips from the wound on my hand, spilling into the boiling liquid. Frustrated,
I remove the beaker from the me, ready to give up. But then, much to my surprise, the ck bubbles
dissipate, and the mixture settles, revealing a golden honey-colored elixir. I gasp in delight as the scent
of sweet spices fills the air.
Due to the missing ingredient I had to rece, the effects might be slightly weaker, and the smell is
somewhat different from the one in the showroom. But I did it! I created an extraordinary perfume! I
stare in amazement at the wonderful little healing potion, quickly pouring it into a tiny bottle and
savoring the elegant and earthy smell.
I can’t help but wonder what finally stabilized the fluids, and my eyes widen in shock as I look at my
hand, my gaze fixed on the small, scarlet trickle of blood.
Marco and I enter the banquet hall arm in arm for the Autumn Equinox Banquet. The gown he’s gotten
me for the asion is not yellow or orange like the leaves of the season, but rather a rich metallic gold
the color of sunlight. The silky fabric is so magnificent that it needs no gaudy ruffles, no bows, or frilly
essories to entuate its beauty. Its simplicity is elegant and regal, with short, swooping sleeves
that droop off my shoulders. The silky fabric hangs around my curves to entuate my figure, flowing
with my movements as we walk through the banquet hall. It matches the delicate chain of my ruby
ne and the golden wedding ring I’ve be so ustomed to wearing.
Marco’s eyes trail over my silhouette approvingly, and I feel my cheeks flush under his brazen gaze.
Before I can thank him for the dress, he excuses himself with a polite nod, exining that he needs to
go speak to some of the other guests.
A few minutes pass before Marco’s sister spots me, and she approaches me like a vulture descending
on its prey. Her own dress is short and ck, and I flinch at the rage in her eyes as she realizes that it
pales inparison to mine.
“Well, look who it is,” she says mockingly. “How ironic is this? The gold dragger is dressed in gold!” o
I bow my head slightly, remembering my ce, and Cathy takes a long sip from the c*oc*ktail in her
hand before speaking again.
“I suppose it makes sense that my brother’s little trophy wife would look like a shiny statue. He never
should have married you; we all know you don’t deserve him.” She coughs slightly, taking another gulp
from her drink. “Ahem,” she clears her throat. “I don’t know why he even brought you here tonight,
nobody wants-”
She stops mid-sentence, unable to finish. Whatever insult she was going to throw at me fades from her
lips as her expression contorts in pain. I gasp in horror as the princess staggers backward and
copses on the ground, unconscious at my feet.