Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

“Hey, wake up,” Mamà gently shook me, stirring me from my sleep. I rubbed my weary eyes and let out a sleepy yawn.

“Are we there yet?” I mumbled, still groggy and half-asleep.

She disregarded my question and focused on the peephole.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart. We need to find a place to hide,” she whispered urgently, searching our surroundings for a suitable spot.

“No,” I immediately protested when she looked towards the box where the chickens used to be. We had eaten all of them, leaving nothing but poop and feathers behind.

“If someone spots us, we’ll end up in jail, and Monsieur will bail us out, only to drag us back to that mansion. Before we know it, you’ll be back to scrubbing floors.”

I let out a resigned sigh.

“Fine.”

The chicken box was far from spacious or comfortable, not to mention the overpowering stench it emitted. I had to pinch my nose and hold my breath to endure it.

As the train came to a stop, Mamà placed her index finger against her lips, silently urging me to stay quiet. We strained our ears, listening intently as the door squeaked open. I pressed my lips tightly together and squeezed my eyes shut, my heart pounding in my chest like a thunderous drumbeat.

I cautiously opened one eye, peering through a small hole in the chicken box. These holes, originally meant for ventilation, luckily concealed our presence. My gaze focused on two men unloading the cargo.

Box after box was removed until only ours remained. I glanced at my mother, sensing her fear, but she met my gaze, silently assuring me.

One of the men attempted to lift our box but struggled due to its weight.

“Hey, give me a hand here, man,” he called out to his partner. Though both men were strong, our box was far from lightweight, especially since my mother and I were inside.

“These chickens must have been well-fed,” he chuckled, noticing the heaviness. I held my breath, making sure not to make a sound.

With effort, they carried us out and placed us among the other boxes.

As soon as the men left, we quietly opened the box door and hurriedly fled the scene. Mamà gripped my hand as we ran, putting as much distance as possible between us and that place.

Finally, we paused to catch our breath. It was then that I realised we were in the heart of the city. I looked around, amazed by the bustling crowds in their fancy attire and the towering skyscrapers that stretched towards the sky. A smile spread across my face. Could it be real? Was I truly here?

Laughter erupted between my mother and me as we exchanged glances. For the first time in eighteen years, what had only existed in movies, magazines, and books was now my reality. I stood in the vibrant town square, my senses overwhelmed by the sights and sounds.

Overwhelmed with joy, my mother embraced me tightly, tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks. I hugged her back, cherishing the moment. People around us cast curious glances, perhaps finding our dishevelled appearance and grime-covered clothes weird. However, their curious gazes couldn’t dampen our spirits.

Gently, my mother brushed away a tear from my cheek and emitted a soft chuckle.

“Come on,” she said, squeezing my hand and leading me forward.Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

We reached a weathered building, standing three stories tall, evoking an aura of age and history. A quaint café occupied the ground floor, while the purpose of the second floor remained uncertain, though mannequins and glimpses of garments hinted it was a tailoring shop.

Upon opening the door, the sound of tinkling bells announced our arrival. There were only a few customers, and I felt relieved that only a few pairs of judgmental eyes glanced our way, causing a twinge of self-consciousness. I glanced at my mother, yet she appeared pretty unbothered.

Her gaze locked onto a particular figure behind the counter. Her face was illuminated with anticipation while the lady she was looking at seemed taken aback, as if she had seen a ghost, dropping the item she held before cautiously approaching us.

In a state of astonishment and confusion, she extended her hands, cradling my mother’s face, their eyes locked in a profound gaze. Tears streamed down Mamà cheeks as she reciprocated the woman’s stare.

Suddenly, the lady pulled my mother into a tight embrace, their tears mingling. Onlookers observed, their expressions a mix of puzzlement and curiosity.

“Emilia,” the woman whispered, gently caressing my mother’s head.

“Oh, Melanie,” Mamà sobbed.

“I can’t believe you’re here. I thought I would never see you again.”

“So do I,” my mother responded, gently breaking the hug. The woman’s gaze shifted towards me. Now that I had a clearer view of her, I noticed the unmistakable resemblance between her and my mother.

She gasped in astonishment upon seeing me. Stepping closer, she gently cupped my cheek, and although I was bewildered, I allowed her touch, standing still in the moment.

I glanced at my mother, tears streaming down her face, as she nodded in confirmation.

“Is this her?” she asked my mother, her eyes fixed on me.

“Yes,” Mamà’s voice quivered with emotion. The woman pulled me into another heartfelt hug, leaving me momentarily breathless.

“You’ve grown,” she exclaimed, her laughter ringing in the air.

“And you’re as beautiful as I am,” she joked, eliciting a chuckle from my mother and a warm smile from me.

“Cercei, this is your Auntie Melanie, my sister,” Mamà introduced, revealing a secret I had never known. My eyes widened in surprise. I had never been aware of the existence of an aunt. My mother had always been quiet about her family, no matter how much I had pressed for information.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Auntie,” I managed to say, my voice filled with awe, as I embraced her once again.

“So, how did you… why are you… what…?” she stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence, clearly overwhelmed by the unexpected reunion.

“It’s a long story,” my mother replied, her voice tinged with the complexities of our past.

“Then let’s start from the beginning,” Aunt Melanie urged her, curiosity piqued.

Upon discovering the existence of Aunt Melanie, whom I had never known before, she graciously provided us with separate rooms. As it turned out, her residence occupied the third floor of the building, boasting remarkable views that took my breath away.

I took a moment to marvel at my own space-a room of my own, a luxury I had never experienced before. A smile formed on my face, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace and contentment. Perhaps, in a way, this was my own version of heaven. I closed my eyes, sinking into the warmth of the hot tub, allowing the hot water to wash away any lingering tension.

However, my mind wandered back to the events that unfolded in the mansion. I knew dwelling on those memories wouldn’t serve any purpose, as they held darkness and pain. However, I acknowledged that those harrowing experiences led us to escape or be outcasted.

I couldn’t shake the deep-rooted resentment I harboured towards the Crescents. Each and every one of them was responsible for the immense suffering we endured. But among them, Lucian Red ignited a particularly intense hatred inside me. If it weren’t for him, my mother wouldn’t have suffered. His unwanted advances and lingering stares made me nervous, leading to a disastrous spill of a drink. How could he act so casually? Isn’t it enough that he seduced me? He became engaged despite everything that happened between us. I had believed he had either forgotten or simply didn’t care, so why did he suddenly start stirring up my emotions?

I took a deep breath and realised dwelling on the past wouldn’t relieve me. We had been granted a fresh start here, an opportunity to rebuild our lives. I didn’t want to jinx it. Although our journey began on a rough note, it has concluded on a positive one.

At least, for now, we are finally free, and I held onto that glimmer of hope.