Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

“Sophia-” I began to express my concerns, my voice filled with worry.

“Please, Cercei, they’re going to hold me responsible,” she groaned in anguish, and I futilely grasped her arms, seeking to offer some form of comfort.

“Okay, fine,” I blurted out in a state of panic, my worry for her well-being overriding any rational thought. I couldn’t bear to see her suffer, so I reluctantly agreed.

Before she could even utter a word of gratitude, Sophia collapsed. My hands trembled as I glanced around, dismayed by the apathy surrounding us. The kitchen remained abuzz with servants bustling in and out, preoccupied with their tasks of fetching and replenishing food and drinks.

“Sophia,” a fellow servant girl approached us, presumably the friend Sophia had mentioned.

“Let’s bring her to our quarters,” she suggested, and together we supported Sophia’s limp body, carrying her toward the designated living quarters. She wasn’t overly heavy, but the weight of our unconscious companion made the journey difficult.

Once we had settled Sophia onto the bed, I couldn’t help but voice my concerns. “Is she going to be alright?” I asked, my voice filled with genuine worry.

“She tends to lose consciousness during her ulcer attacks. I’ll make sure she takes her medication once she awakens,” her friend reassured me. Although we both desired to remain by Sophia’s side and ensure her well-being, the overwhelming demands of serving many guests beckoned us.

Taking a deep breath, I allowed a few strands of hair to cascade across my face, a futile attempt to mask the agitation within. The mask I wore hid more than just my face-it concealed the burden of my inner struggles.

The table assigned to Sophia for service belonged to Vienna, accompanied by her fiancé and a distinguished gathering of Lords and Ladies. I fervently hoped that Sophia would be preoccupied, sparing me any recognition. After all, she rarely took notice of the servants attending to her.

With deliberate steps and measured breaths, I approached their table, my heart pounding with each movement. I firmly clutched the cart I pushed, determined to maintain composure.

“And how many heirs should we anticipate?” inquired one of the Lords, prompting a burst of melodic laughter from Vienna.

“Well, that depends on Lucian’s capability,” she responded playfully, her eyes gleaming mischievously. The entire table erupted in laughter, except for Lucian.

His intense gaze bore into me as I cautiously served their food. Goodness, his stare penetrated my very soul. He scrutinised my every gesture, studying my hands, my hair, and my physique.

His unwavering attention only amplified my nervousness, causing me to feel the urge to pee.

I silently thanked my stars that Vienna and her companions were sufficiently engrossed in their conversations, sparing me their notice. However, this particular gentleman persisted in his attempt to pierce through my facade, even tilting his head curiously.

Could he possibly remember me? It seemed implausible!

I was fully concealed by now, wearing a mask that obscured my face and my hair draped strategically to hide any recognition. I would barely recognize him myself were it not for his distinctive scent.

But could he, in some inexplicable manner, smell my scent?

When I delicately placed the final dish on the table, his grip tightened around my arms. A surge of panic rushed through me when I lost touch with the plate, causing it to plunge into his lap.

A ghastly paleness crushed my lips as a chill coursed through my body. The beads of sweat formed rapidly on my forehead.

“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed a lady seated at the other table. The sound of shattering porcelain and clattering cutlery thundered in my ears, leaving me momentarily stunned. I gazed at Lucian, attempting to rectify the situation by removing the food from his soiled garment.

“You foolish girl, fetch a napkin!” bellowed a Lord, jolting me back to reality. With a quickened pulse, I retrieved a handful of tissues from the tray and handed them to him.

I stood there feeling foolish and helpless, observing the escalating commotion.

His gaze fixated on my hand as I presented him with the napkin.

“Clean it,” he commanded with an icy detachment. Terror coursed through my veins as I met his gaze. Glancing to his side, I noticed Vienna’s eyes piercing through me, brimming with anger.

Quivering uncontrollably, I obeyed his order. I gingerly wiped away the remains of the meal from his shirt, yet my efforts only seemed to worsen the situation.

“Step aside,” Vienna interjected, pushing me onto the floor and assuming the task herself. Lucian continued to fix his unwavering gaze on me while Vienna attended to his stained attire.

“No, I want her to attend to me,” he declared, pointing directly at me. Vienna halted abruptly, her expression a mixture of offense and resentment.

“Uh,” I stammered, my eyes darting between Vienna and Lucian.

“Are you refusing your duties, servant girl?” he uttered with a tone devoid of mercy. My trembling lips struggled to form a response, but I swallowed hard, summoning my willpower as I stood up.

With measured steps, I reached for another napkin, my inner agitation noticeable. Standing beside Lucian was Vienna, teetering on the edge of an explosion.

As I gingerly touched Lucian, Vienna suddenly ripped off my mask. Terror seized me as I locked eyes with her. Her expression widened in shock as she recognized me. I shifted my gaze to Lucian, witnessing a mirrored astonishment in his eyes.

“You-” he pointed at me.

“You bloody whore!” Vienna lunged at me, her claws digging into my flesh. Caught off guard by her attack, I failed to defend myself immediately.

“You’re just like your mother!” she screamed, consumed by rage. This wasn’t the first time Vienna had unleashed her violence upon me, but it was the first time I truly felt fear. She appeared poised to unleash her wrath and bring me to an untimely end.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

We found ourselves on the floor, with Vienna now atop me, her savage claws scraping at my skin. She was halfway transformed into a wolf, her anger blinding her to the world. I desperately attempted to transform into my wolf form, but she possessed an overwhelming strength that pinned me down, fuelled by a fit of anger surpassing any known bounds.

I cried out in pain.

“Please, let me go!” I pleaded, shielding my face with my arms, desperately seeking self-preservation.

Inadvertently, I caught sight of Lucian, his own astonishment mirroring mine. He stepped forward, intending to pry Vienna away from me when suddenly, a wolf lunged at her.

A collective gasp echoed through the room. Vienna, who should have remained atop me, rolled to the side instead.

Enraged and consumed by fury, Vienna completed her transformation into a full-fledged wolf. Panic swept through the ballroom as screams pierced the air, and people hastened to leave.

Bleeding and wracked with pain, I clutched my wounded arms, fixing my gaze on the wolf that had intervened.

“Mamà.” A weak exclamation slipped my lips as I saw my Mom in her wolf form.