
Claiming His Luna
Chapter 3
Cercei’s POV
“Father, this ball must be absolutely flawless,” Vienna exclaimed, her distress noticeable.
“No, it’s far too excessive. Remove it immediately,” she commanded the servants as they arranged the tablecloths.
Vienna possessed a refined and elegant taste, and the tablecloth was adorned with an excessive number of intricate patterns and overwhelming hues that failed to align with her preferences.
As one of the servants, I found myself in the ballroom, diligently cleaning and embellishing. Naturally, the room was adorned with a profusion of white roses, symbolising the MoonStone pack, to which we all belonged.
“Handle that vase with the utmost care, girl. Its worth is beyond anything you can fathom,” Vienna scolded the unfortunate servant who held a golden vase in her trembling hands.
“Fear not, my dear, I will ensure that everything is perfected,” Monsieur Remus reassured his daughter, his voice a soothing balm.
I stole a glance at my parents standing alongside the Alpha. Papa bestowed upon me a reassuring smile while Mama regarded me with gentle, loving eyes.
“You foolish girl!” I was startled at Vienna’s outburst, her voice cutting through the air.
“Should I spot even the tiniest speck of dirt on the floor, I will use your face as a cleaning cloth, do you comprehend?” Vienna’s threat hung in the air, and I nodded in response, my apprehension palpable.
“Don’t be too harsh on the poor girl, Vienna,” interjected the Alpha, his commanding voice slicing through the tension. My gaze shifted towards him.
“Are you defending her?” Vienna inquired, her tone laced with the offence.
“No, I’m simply suggesting that you need not be overwhelmed. I promise you, everything will be flawless, my dear,” the Alpha assured, pressing a tender kiss upon his daughter’s forehead.
“The Blood Moon Pack will be in attendance, and their Alpha happens to be around your age. It would be advantageous if the two of you were to establish a rapport,” Monsieur Remus interjected.
“The Blood Moon Pack? The Reds?” Vienna queried, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes.
“Yes, my dear. Lucian Red will be present. He is often referred to as the ‘King in the North’—one of the most formidable and dangerous men and wolves alive,” Monsieur Remus disclosed, gently tucking a few strands of Vienna’s hair behind her ear.
“It would serve us well if you were to garner his favour. I have been informed that he is searching for his destined mate,” a mischievous grin crept upon his face.
“Are you implying you are selling me off to a stranger?” Vienna’s voice carried a mix of disbelief and panic.
“Trust me, my love, the Blood Alpha is precisely your match,” Monsieur Remus insisted.
“Well then, we shall see about that at the ball,” Vienna responded, her voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and scepticism.
As the Alpha departed, my parents dutifully followed him out of the ballroom. Vienna lingered for a while, berating anyone who dared to interrupt their work.
Eventually, she also departed, retreating to the spa to prepare herself to radiate magnificence at the upcoming ball.
The Blood Moon Pack—a name that reverberates throughout the land. They are renowned as the mightiest and most formidable warriors in the North. I possess no knowledge of their royal members save for the fact that the Reds lead them.
“Hey,” Maria whispered beside me, breaking my train of thought.
“Let us swap tasks,” she suggested, handing me a vase and a bouquet of flowers. In turn, I relinquished the brush I had been holding and commenced arranging the flowers with delicate care.
“Did you hear what Monsieur said? Lucian Red is attending!” I overheard one of the servants whisper excitedly.
“I heard he’s both ruthless and incredibly handsome,” the two of them squealed in delight.
“Girls,” Madam Cece, the head servant, reprimanded them with a stern tone, chastising their frivolous chatter.
The two girls made feeble attempts to conceal their romantic excitement surrounding this enigmatic figure known as Lucian Red, yet their giggles reached my ears even from a distance.
Lucian Red? How remarkably attractive must he be to inspire such fervent devotion from girls?
Truth be told, I have never harboured a crush on anyone, not even the impeccably handsome models within the pages of glossy magazines or the actors gracing the television screen. Yes, they possess undeniable allure, but how can one develop affection for a stranger, for a soul so utterly unfamiliar?
Perhaps my lack of infatuation stems from my sheltered existence within this grand mansion, where socialisation and encounters with men have been scarce. While the rest of us toiled diligently to ensure every aspect of the ball would be flawless, Vienna intermittently inspected the progress, though her primary focus seemed to lie in her own preparations for the event.
“Moon Ball, my ass,” Maria muttered as we sought comfort beneath the towering apple tree situated at the rear of the mansion during our brief respite.
“All the pompous lords and ladies will simply prance about, flaunting their ostentatious wealth,” she declared, taking a hearty bite of her apple.
I playfully slapped her shoulder. “Maria,” I scolded gently.
“What? It’s the truth! All they do is revel in excessive drinking and dancing, parading their numerous servants as if they were trophies. A gathering of self-important fools and insufferable prats.” Maria’s disdain dripped from her words like acid.
“I’ve never actually witnessed a ball, so I have no idea what people do or talk about,” I confessed, my curiosity piqued.
“It’s nothing like the romanticised tales in books. In reality, all they discuss is wealth, power, and the perpetuation of cruelty. Oh, and of course, sex,” Maria retorted, rolling her eyes in disdain.
“Even so, I can’t help but feel excited about it. The dresses and the music are bound to be beautiful,” I expressed, trying to maintain a glimmer of optimism.
“It’s often the most terrible women who don the most breathtaking dresses,” I winced, sceptical of the intentions behind such finery.
“I’m sure not everyone is as terrible as you claim. I mean, not all people are bad, you know,” I countered, hoping to inject a note of hope into our conversation.
“No, not everyone, but most of them,” Maria laughed bitterly, her experiences having tainted her perception of humanity.
I couldn’t truly fault Maria for her pessimistic outlook on life. She had grown up in a place far more wretched than our current surroundings—harsh, cruel, and teeming with violence, as she often recounted.
Despite my own circumstances, I had been fortunate enough to maintain a positive perspective on the world, largely thanks to my mother’s influence. She instilled in me the belief that even amidst the darkest depths, one should always seek out the glimmers of light and dive fearlessly into the hearts of even the most shadowed souls.
I considered myself blessed, for although my days were consumed by toil and service, at the end of each one, I had the solace of my loving parents. Despite the weight of responsibilities and duties that enveloped them, they never failed to demonstrate their unwavering love for me.
A week passed, and every nook and cranny of the mansion exuded an air of perfection. The harmonious blend of green and red radiated luxury and sophistication, serving as a visual testament to the meticulousness of our preparations.
Even clad in rugged attire and clutching a mop in my hand, I couldn’t help but feel like a princess as I glided through the grand halls.
A smile stretched across my lips as I marvelled at the shimmering chandeliers. This was my first glimpse of a true ball.
As I entered the opulent ballroom, the guests had assembled around Vienna, hanging onto her every word. I quietly positioned myself by Maria’s side, seeking solace in her familiar presence.
“This ball must be flawless. Should any of you make a single mistake, you will not live to regret it. Do you understand?” Vienna’s words hung heavy in the air, causing us all to swallow hard and nod in trepidation. Her scrutinising gaze swept across the group, but it halted upon reaching me.
“Furthermore,” she began, striding purposefully in my direction, causing the others to make way for her instinctively.
My heart pounded nervously as she fixed me with a devilish smile.
“I want all of you to wear masks. I don’t want our esteemed guests to lose their appetite as they gaze upon your repugnant faces,” she remarked, pausing briefly in front of me, nudging my shoulder before continuing on her way.
“Tell me you’re insecure without actually telling me you’re insecure,” Maria whispered beside me, her voice laced with both amusement and sympathy.
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