Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

As I entered the familiar family halls, each step felt like a sharp dagger piercing my chest. There was a time when I walked across these very floors, carrying a bucket of water and a worn mop in my trembling hand.

Yet, at this moment, they celebrated with joy upon my return.

My heart sank as I gazed at the wealthy living room. It was within these walls that my father’s life had been brutally taken from him. I had witnessed his last moments here and seen my mother’s spirit shatter in this very room.

It was here that a part of me had died as well.

Tears welled up in my eyes, a simmering cascade threatening to breach the boundaries of my eyelids. The unfiltered pain of that memory clung to me like a haunting shadow.

I couldn’t help but wonder how different everything might have been if that horrible night had never happened. Would my father still be with us? Would we all still be here, living a life bound to this mansion?

We wouldn’t have run away, leaving everything behind. We would have stayed, fulfilling our duties: my father as Monsieur’s loyal butler, my mother as his maid, and me as Vienna’s puppet.

My father’s death shattered me and my mother and destroyed our happy family. Yet, it created an opportunity for us. It offered a glimmer of light, a chance to escape and begin anew on Dinan. I met my Aunt, encountered remarkable individuals, witnessed my mother’s revival, and developed a stronger bond with Lucian.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

Even in death, Papà continued to brighten our path. Oh, how I missed him, yearning for just a fleeting moment in his presence.

The difficult journey to reach this point had drained every fibre of my being. Exhaustion clung to me like a shroud, and all I desired now was the comfort of a soft bed on steady ground.

Even after weeks of sailing, I still couldn’t get used to the rough waves and the constant stench smell of the open ocean.

The grand feast was set for the next day, a lavish event that would bring together the most respected Lords and Ladies of the South. It was expected to be one of the season’s most important gatherings, and Monsieur had expressed his desire to present me to society as his cherished daughter.

As anticipated, Vienna’s displeasure mirrored my own. Monsieur’s audacity in planning my debut into his empire left me skeptical. I bore no royal lineage; I was the offspring of his dark crimes.

I had harboured a small hope that he might experience a hint of guilt or perhaps even a fraction of remorse. However, it was a futile illusion. I had realised that monsters, in all their malevolence, remained immune to the torment of guilt.

The room I currently occupy is one of the largest guest rooms in the mansion. It struck me as ironic that I had once scrubbed the very floors of this room. The idea of sleeping here now is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

Monsieur had made it clear that I should stay in my room until the preparations for the upcoming ball or feast were completed. He insisted it was meant to be a surprise.

Each time he spoke to me, it felt like I was swallowing a jagged nail. Every moment spent in his presence, without retribution, was a torment I could hardly bear.

However, revenge wasn’t my only objective. I had devised a plan, a single goal, to gain his trust. That trust would serve as the key to putting an end to his evilness.

Once he placed his trust in me, everything would become much easier. However, that was just the beginning of my grand plan.

The servants would dutifully deliver my meals to my room with barely a word spoken. I attempted to engage them in conversation each time, but they consistently kept their heads down and offered only minimal replies.

It saddened me deeply. These were people I had grown up with, enduring hardships together under Vienna’s cruel control. I couldn’t tell if they had been ordered to remain silent or if they now held contempt for me after discovering my connection to Vienna.

Their indifference was evident, and I found it unfair. After all, I had done nothing to harm them. Given the months that had passed since my last presence in the mansion, I expected they would show some happiness upon my return.

“Flora,” I addressed her by name as she wheeled a heavily laden food cart into the room.

“My lady,” she greeted with a slight bow, pausing the cart to reveal an assortment of food items that could rival a buffet.

“Join me,” I offered a warm smile and gestured towards the seat opposite mine. In response, she shook her head and avoided meeting my eyes.

“Thank you, My lady, but I have already eaten,” she replied hurriedly, though I knew it was a lie. Servants took their midday meal at three, and the clock had barely struck twelve.

“Very well,” I conceded, unwilling to press further. I had no desire to force myself on her. She offered a forced smile before bowing once more and exiting the room. As the door closed, I sighed in quiet frustration.

I had once believed that this life would come with kindness freely given, but now I understand that it was merely a deception, an obligation rather than a choice.

Tears welled up as I attempted to swallow my food, and at this moment, I longed for Lucian more than ever.

“I miss you, love,” I whispered silently to the empty room.

I couldn’t understand the cause of the intense emotions that had been troubling me for weeks, accompanied by a persistent feeling of sickness. Each morning, I experienced bouts of nausea, and my days were marked by constant headaches and queasiness. My appetite had become unpredictable, and even the aroma of certain foods could make me feel dizzy.

It was a cruel irony; I had always loved the forest, yet now, even the scent of the fresh air could trigger nausea. And now, I had developed an unexpected reliance on the comforting coolness of air conditioners.

****

The three designers arrived in my room at one o’clock, carrying with them an entire wardrobe of dresses and a multitude of accessories. The sheer number of choices overwhelmed me. It seemed that I was expected to try on each dress and put on different styles of makeup.

The grand ball was scheduled to start at eight, and as the clock approached 7:30 p. m., I was already dressed and ready. I had chosen a magnificent evening gown in a dazzling shade of gold, resembling the appearance of a goddess. When I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, I was stunned.

The reflection in the mirror displayed a different woman, and it felt as if I were looking at a stranger.