Chapter 3: The Ball Preparation

Cercei’s POV

“Father, this ball must be absolutely flawless,” Vienna exclaimed, her distress visible.

“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 wrapped 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 decorating. Naturally, the room was decorated with a profusion of white roses, symbolising the MoonStone pack, to which we all belonged.

“Handle that vase with extra care, girl. Its worth is beyond anything you can possess,” Vienna scolded the unfortunate servant, who held a golden vase in her trembling hands.

“Don’t worry, my dear, I will ensure that everything is perfected,” Monsieur Remus reassured his daughter, his soothing voice acting as a balm to Vienna’s distress.

I stole a glance at my parents standing beside the Alpha. Papà gave me a reassuring smile while Mamà offered me her most gentle, loving eyes.

“You foolish girl!” I was startled at Vienna’s outburst, her voice cutting through the air.

“Once I spot even the tiniest speck of dirt on the floor, I will use your face as a cleaning cloth, do you understand?” Vienna’s threat hung in the air, and I nodded in response; fear appeared on my face.

“Don’t be too harsh on the poor girl, Vienna,” interjected the Alpha instantly, his commanding voice slicing through the tension. My eyes shifted towards him.

“Are you defending her, father?” Vienna inquired, her tone slightly raised, sounding offended.

“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 on 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 shifted the topic instantly.

“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 popular 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 on 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 Moon Alpha is precisely your match,” Monsieur Remus insisted, smiling even wider.

“Well then, we shall see about that at the ball,” Vienna responded, her voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and scepticism.

When the Alpha departed, my parents dutifully followed him out of the ballroom. Vienna lingered for a while, berating anyone who dared to interrupt our work.

Eventually, she also departed, retreating to the spa to pamper herself with the most expensive beauty treatments to look stunning at the upcoming ball.

The Blood Moon Pack—a name that reverberates throughout the land. They are renowned as the mightiest and strongest warriors in the North. I don’t have much information about their royal members, except for the fact that the Reds lead them.

“Hey,” Maria whispered beside me, breaking my train of thoughts.

“Let us swap tasks,” she suggested, handing me a vase and a bouquet of flowers. In turn, I passed up the brush I had been holding and continued 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 extremely 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 mysterious 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 appearing on 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 inside this grand mansion, where socialisation and encounters with men have been scarce. While the rest of us worked diligently to ensure every aspect of the ball would be flawless, Vienna intermittently inspected the progress. However, her primary focus seemed to lie in her own preference for the event.

“Moon Ball, my ass,” Maria muttered as we both rested beneath the towering apple tree situated at the rear of the mansion during our short break.

“All the arrogant lords and ladies will simply flooded inside this estate, flaunting their flashy 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 celebrate this so-called grand ball with excessive drinking and dancing, parading their numerous servants as if they were trophies. A gathering of self-important fools and insufferable butts,” 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 once again.

“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 also a parade of the most terrible women who don the most breathtaking dresses to please those arrogant royal Alphas,” she winced, sceptical of the intentions behind such elegance.

“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 message of hope into our conversation.

“No, not everyone, but most of them,” Maria laughed bitterly, her experiences perhaps having tainted her perception of humanity.

I couldn’t blame 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 during the darkest challenges, one should always seek out the glimmers of light and fearlessly embrace the hearts of even the most shadowed souls.

I considered myself blessed, for although my days were filled with struggle and heavy burdens, I had the comfort of my loving parents at the end of each day. Despite the weight of responsibilities and duties that they also endured, they never failed to show their utmost love and care as I grew up.

As the week passed, every nook and cranny of the mansion exuded an air of perfection. The harmonious blend of green and red radiated luxury and sophistication, providing visual evidence of our preparations’ painstaking efforts.

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 at this moment.

A smile stretched across my lips as I marvelled at the shimmering chandeliers. This was my first glimpse of a true ball.

When I entered the grand ballroom, the servants had assembled around Vienna, hanging onto her every word. I quietly positioned myself by Maria’s side, aiming for relief in her familiar presence.

Vienna’s words hung heavy in the air, “This ball must be flawless. Once any of you make a single mistake, you will not live to regret it. Do you understand?” Her scrutinising look swept across the group, but it suddenly halted once catching my figure.

“Furthermore,” she began, striding purposefully in my direction, causing the others to make way for her instinctively.

My heart pounded nervously as she spared me with a devilish smile.

“I want all of you to wear masks. I don’t want our prominent guests to lose their appetite as they gaze on your disgusting 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 after Vienna disappeared, her voice wrapped with both amusement and sympathy.