Chapter 104
Chapter 104
Lila
I had never been so aware of my posture in my life.
Back straight. Chin lifted. Hands folded neatly in my lap. Every breath I took in the training chamber felt rehearsed–like if I inhaled too deeply or stinked too slowly, someone would find fault in it.
They were watching. All of them.
The former candidates who hadn’t left the palace hovered in a semicircle near the back wall, draped in silk and smugness. A few nobles lounged at the edges of the room under the pretense of court interest, but it was clear what they were really here for: bloodsport, disguised as my étiquette lessons.
And at the center of it all stood Jackson.
His robes were crisp and regulation–perfect, his tone even, his expression unreadable. He held a leather–bound journal like it was a gavel and addressed the room with the flatness of a man who’d already decided the outcome.
“Today’s lesson,” he said, “will begin with a review of historical Pack alliances and their significance in Luna influence. Lady Lila–join me.”
The name barely fit in my ears anymore. Every time someone said it now, it felt less like a title and more like a challenge.
1 rose carefully from the long bench, my gown whispering around my ankles. The fabric was stiff with embroidery–dignified, elegant, and wrong. I felt like a doll dressed for judgment.
As I stepped forward, I caught the briefest flicker of movement from the side of the room.
Damon. He stood near the arched doorway, arms folded, watching. Supporting.
My throat tightened.
Jackson gestured toward the ceremonial table. “Tell me, Lady Lila, what year the Blackriver Accord was ratified.”
I opened my mouth. “Thirty–two years ago, under Alpha Caldren’s reign.”
“Incorrect,” he replied smoothly. “It was ratified thirty–one years ago. The official date was delayed for a season due to lunar eclipse and travel disputes. Important nuance.”
A few muffled chuckles echoed from the back. I didn’t bother to look.
Jackson continued, “Let that be a reminder: in diplomacy, details are everything. A Luna must not only know facts but understand their context.”
Inodded once, jaw tight.
We moved through five more questions. I answered four of them correctly. He corrected me six times.
When I misspoke the name of a Pack that had since merged with another, Jackson smiled thinly and turned to the onlookers. “That confusion is understandable–for someone not born into noble life.”
The words were meant to insult and they hit their mark dead center.
The whispering resumed. I caught phrases: “Untrained,” “Unfit,” “Lacking confidence and decorum.”
I kept mine breath steady.
By the time Jackson moved onto etiquette drills–correct angles for bowing, appropriate tones for blessing a birth versus a bonding–I could feel sweat pooling at the back of my neck. My knees ached from standing. My voice had gone flat.
Chapter 104
Still, I wouldn’t falter.
Damon interrupted once–when Jackson asked me to demonstrate a traditional greeting between Luna and consort and corrected my form in front of the entire room. Damon’s voice was quiet but carried.
*She greeted me that way the night before the declaration. I found it more than acceptable.”
The silence that followed was pointed enou
to draw blood.
Jackson inclined his head. “Of course, Your Majesty. Still, with time, refinement is possible.”
I looked at Damon then–just for a heartbeat. He was softened, just enough for me to keep standing.
The lesson ended with polite applause. For Jackson,
staring at Jackson like he could skin him without moving. But when our eyes met, his expression
As I left the chamber, I felt every gaze on my
back like a brand.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t stumble. But my hands shook all the
way to the door.
After hours of standing under palace scrutiny, the stillness should have felt like a reprieve. But it wasn’t peace. It was pressure–folded neatly into every corner of Damon’s room, pressed into the fabric of the settee where tsat like a statue trying to remember how to move naturally.
I hadn’t removed the gown. The emerald velvet clung to my arms, the embroidery at my throat scratchy and stiff. My spine ached from holding perfect posture. My cheeks burned from invisible stares that hadn’t followed me here, but had branded me through eight hours of drills.
A knock at the door made me flinch. It opened just enough for a servant to step inside. She kept her eyes cast at the floor, avoiding look at me directly.
“Your correspondence, my Lady,” she said, placing a silver tray on the edge of the desk. “From the eastern courier.”
I nodded thanks and she left without another word.
The tray held three sealed envelopes and a folded copy of the latest palace–approved newsprint. I reached for the paper first, even though I already knew what would be inside.
The headline sprawled across the top like an accusation: “False Luna: Palace Under Fire for Selection Deception”
My name–and Elena’s–weren’t in the first sentence. But they didn’t need to be. Everyone knew now. I skimmed the column, my eyes catching phrases:
“Former candidate posing under false identity…”
“Palace sources suggest the King was complicit…”
“Unprecedented breach of tradition…”
I didn’t realize my hands were trembling until the paper crinkled in my grip. One paragraph down, my stomach turned to ice.
“Outcry has spread to outer Packs. Nightfall elders issued a statement distancing themselves from the scandal, claiming they were unaware of any selection participation and do not condone the deception that has unfolded.”
The words blurred. I blinked, once. Twice.
My Pack had disowned me. Not outright. Not yet. But the message was clear: they were ashamed. Of me. Of this.
The second envelope bore the Nightfall crest–deep green wax stamped with a crescent moon. I didn’t open it. I couldn’t. My fingers hovered over it like it might bite me.
My mother’s face rose in my mind–kind eyes, lined from years of worry, soft fingers brushing my hair back, voice like steady rain.
14:50‘ Sun, 8 Jun: JGA
Chapter 104
She was better than she had been in ages last I spoke with the healer. She hadn’t written but that didn’t mean she hadn’t seen
Ruby stirred within me, low and restless. She just… ached. A dull, low thrum behind my ribs. Pack was sacred to her. To both of us. And we’d just cast out without ceremony,
I set the paper down gently and pressed my palms to my knees to keep them from shaking.
One breath. Then another.
This wasn’t just about the Court anymore. Or the crown. Or the throne Damon had offered with a word and defended with fire.
This was about where I came from. Who I used to be. And what I had broken to become someone else.
I had told myself for weeks that the cost of surviving was worth it. That lying to the Court was worth protecting my mother. That pretending was better than being erased.
But I hadn’t considered the after.
This slow, creeping devastation. Watching my Pack’s name tarnished in print and ink. I hadn’t considered the guilt of knowing it was ultimately my choices dragging them through the mud.
The door creaked open again. Damon stepped in, eyes scanning me instantly. He didn’t ask if I was okay. He knew the answer.
“I saw the paper,” he said softly.
I didn’t look at him. “So did they.”
“I’ll speak to the press-”
“Don’t.”
He stilled.
“It’ll only make it worse.”
He nodded once then crossed the room and sat beside me without speaking. We sat there, still and silent, the weight of it all settled in the space between us.
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