Cercei’s POV

I gently wiped the beads of sweat from my forehead, my tired body bent over the task of scrubbing the floor. The weight of the brush in my hand felt heavier with each passing moment.

“Gosh, can you pick up the pace?” came the sharp voice of Vienna, the daughter of our Alpha, piercing the air from behind me.

“Certainly, miss,” I replied, my voice filled with deference, and I increased the speed of my scrubbing.

Vienna had conveniently spilled paint on the floor, which she claimed was accidental, but her malicious intent was evident. It was now my responsibility to rectify the mess she had created.

“Stupid girl,” Vienna muttered under her breath as she turned her back on me. With one final act of cruelty, she kicked the paint can that lay beside me before departing the kitchen.

Exhaustion washed over me, and I let out a weary sigh as I observed the magnitude of the work still ahead. I had been scrubbing the floor for what felt like an eternity, yet the paint seemed to cling stubbornly to the surface, refusing to yield to my efforts.

Once I was certain that Vienna had left the room, I gingerly set down the brush and allowed myself a moment’s slumber.

Leaning against the cool wall, I could feel the ache radiating through my arm, the throbbing pain in my legs, and the strain in my back. The toll of physical exertion was unmistakable.

“You do know that Vienna would strangle you if she caught you were resting,” Maria’s voice suddenly broke the silence, causing me to startle.

“God, you gave me quite a scare,” I gasped, my hand instinctively pressing against my chest to calm the racing beat of my heart.

Maria couldn’t help but chuckle as she settled down beside me, a brief break from the demanding world we were trapped in.

Maria, though a relatively recent addition to the service of the Crescents compared to my family’s long-standing tenure, had quickly become my closest companion. Perhaps it was our similar ages or the shared fate we endured under the tyranny of Vienna Crescent.

While my parents had dedicated their lives to serving the Alpha, Remus Crescent, my father as his butler, and my mother as his personal maid, they had never been shown an ounce of gratitude or respect by the man they served faithfully.

Resting my head upon Maria’s shoulder, I couldn’t help but voice my frustration. “What do you think drives Vienna’s relentless determination to make my life a living hell?”

“Jealousy,” Maria replied with a hint of amusement in her voice.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her response. “Yes, of course. Who wouldn’t envy my ragged clothing, extraordinary talent for scrubbing floors, and oh-so-fashionable vintage worn-out shoes?” I playfully wiggled my toes for emphasis.

A sudden shift in Maria’s tone caught me off guard, and I stopped laughing. It was a rare occasion when she spoke seriously. “Because you’re more beautiful than her,” she uttered, her voice devoid of jest.

I paused, struck by the sincerity in her words. “Can we return to you teasing me, please? It’s much more comfortable,” I said, attempting to lighten the mood.

We both burst into laughter, knowing that Maria’s teasing stemmed from a place of affection rather than malice.

Unlike Vienna, who found joy in my misery, Maria used teasing as a means of expressing her fondness for me. Through these playful interactions, we found comfort and formed a unique bond.

“Scrub the floor, you silly girl,” Maria mockingly imitated Vienna’s voice, her gestures mirroring those of our tormentor.

She even exaggeratedly flipped her hair in the same manner as Vienna, and the sight elicited genuine laughter from me.

“Shoo, off you go back to the garden,” I playfully retorted, dismissing Maria with a wave of my hand.

She made an exaggeratedly indignant face and dramatically flipped her hair once again, eliciting another giggle from me. The sight of my own reflection dancing upon the wet, soapy floor only served to heighten my delight.

Throughout my life, many have expressed their fondness for what they perceived as my beauty. Their compliments, though kind, never truly resonated with me. I would often respond with gratitude or return the sentiment with a compliment of my own. However, it never occurred to me to take their words to heart.

Nevertheless, Maria’s notion that Vienna was envious of me struck me as utterly absurd.

I couldn’t fathom why Maria had abandoned her rationality to entertain such an idea. While Vienna and I stood at the same height, her figure possessed a maturity emphasised by her graceful curves, while I remained petite. We both had long brown hair, but mine flowed in waves at the ends, while hers remained impeccably straight, lending her a sophisticated air. Her eyes shimmered hazel, contrasting with the emerald green I inherited from my mother. Though I possessed a fair complexion, Vienna’s skin resembled the purest white paper.

Apart from these distinctions, we shared many similar features—pointed noses, pouty lips, and freckles that emerged only under the sun’s gentle caress.

It was this uncanny resemblance that may have fueled her disdain for me. At first glance, one might mistake us for sisters. However, being compared to a servant, even fleetingly, must be the ultimate insult for Vienna, the sole daughter, and heiress of the MoonStone pack.

After what felt like an eternity of scrubbing, I sought ease in the mansion’s garden, my sanctuary. Amongst the vibrant flora and towering trees, I found tranquillity unmatched by any other corner of the estate.

A sight caught my attention as I strolled amidst the natural beauty, soaking in the fragrance of blossoms and the songs of chirping birds. Maria, engaged in a battle for her life against a horde of dead flowers, fought bravely with a broom. Though I couldn’t help but be amused by her predicament, a twinge of sympathy tugged at my heart.

Upon discovering Maria’s sensitivity to flowers, Vienna wasted no time, assigning her the gruelling task of tending to the garden.

Maria, desperate for some leniency, mustered the courage to request mercy, but Vienna’s desires always prevailed.

Cercei’s POV

Now, Maria endured pure torture, her body constantly succumbing to sneezing fits as she struggled to maintain a grip on the broom. Witnessing her plight, I offered her my handkerchief and promptly took over the sweeping duties.

“Have you taken your anti-allergy pill?” I inquired, the broom gliding effortlessly through the fallen petals.

She blew her nose into the cloth before responding, “I ran out.”

“Your poor nose looks like it’s been stung by a bee,” I joked gently, attempting to lighten her spirits.

“Shut up,” she playfully rolled her eyes, a chuckle escaping her lips.

We both knew the teasing was a way to alleviate the strain, a shared language between us. She found respite on a nearby bench, seeking a moment’s reprieve from her allergic torment.

Meanwhile, I continued sweeping, the white roses scattered across the garden in abundance. It was no surprise, considering the MoonStone pack’s sigil was that of the white rose.

“I truly don’t understand why Vienna always feels compelled to be so malicious,” Maria expressed between sneezes, her frustration evident.

“Maria, you must be careful with your words. Someone might overhear,” I cautioned, mindful of the ears that could be lurking nearby, always ready to report any perceived transgressions.

Apprehensive, I glanced around, my senses heightened with worry that someone might overhear the less-than-favourable words that escaped Maria’s lips.

“Oh, come on. We all know it’s true,” she persisted, her voice laced with frustration.

“Even so, Vienna would not take kindly to such words,” I cautioned, fully aware of the consequences that awaited those who dared to speak ill of the Alpha’s daughter.

“She can have my nose instead,” Maria retorted, pointing humorously at her swollen, red appendage. Despite the weight of concern that hung in the air, I couldn’t help but chuckle at her remark.

“You should return inside. Vienna would not be pleased to find you helping out here,” She suggested, concerned for my well-being. Then, she swiftly took hold of the broom, determined to continue her duties.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” I asked, lingering in my worry.

“Don’t worry, hun. At this point, I can practically feel the ‘abs’ forming on my nose,” she reassured me, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Alright, just be sure to cover your nose while you sweep and take your anti-allergy pill,” I advised, my charming attitude taking over.

“Yes, Mommy,” she quipped, playfully teasing me.

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

Leaving Maria to her task, I made my way back to the mansion, only to find yet another mess that Vienna had ‘accidentally’ created once again.

Despite the weariness that consumed my body, I forced a smile whenever Vienna issued her orders. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. After all, her mother, the Moonstone Luna, had tragically passed away during childbirth.

In the wake of that devastating loss, her father had gone to great lengths to fill the void, perhaps even going overboard. As a result, Vienna had grown up entitled and spoiled, unable to comprehend or consider the emotions of others.

Having endured a day of torment, I finally collapsed onto my humble bed.

“You should freshen up, my dear,” My Mom told me.

I instinctively shifted my gaze to the portion of the room designated for us.

The three of us shared this modest space in the maid’s quarters, a room barren save for the two beds and a tiny window. I often found relief through that window, gazing at the night sky and marvelling at its sheer beauty.

“Where’s papà?” I inquired, my mother meticulously tending to their bed.

“He’s still at the library with Monsieur Remus,” she replied, referring to the Alpha.

My arms ached from the extensive scrubbing I had undertaken throughout the day. Vienna’s ‘accidental’ spills of paint had occurred not once but thrice. Despite my exhaustion, I summoned the strength to rise from my bed and prepared to take a bath.

My eyelids drooped heavily as I absentmindedly brushed my hair.

“Here,” Mamà gently took the brush from my weary hand, her touch soothing as she ran it through my hair.

“How was your day, dear?” my mother asked in a soft, caring tone.

“Ask Vienna,” I replied with a yawn, prompting a chuckle from my mother.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with her,” she sympathised, her voice tinged with sadness.

“It’s okay, Mamà. I’m used to it,” I reassured her. As my mother turned to face me, I couldn’t help but notice the wistful smile gracing her lips.

“You know, the Moon Ball is coming up. House Crescent has been chosen as this year’s host,” she revealed.

My eyes widened at her words. “A ball?”

I had only ever seen balls on television or read about them in books. The mere thought of attending such an event filled me with excitement.

“All the northwest packs will gather, singing, dancing, and searching for mates,” my mother explained, her finger playfully touching my nose as she mentioned the last word.

While I knew that my role would likely be limited to serving during the night, the prospect of being present at a grand ball, observing the elegant dances and enchanting atmosphere, was enough to fill my heart with joy.

“When will it be, Mamà?” I eagerly inquired.

“The next full moon,” she replied, causing my eyes to sparkle with anticipation.

“It’s the same night as my birthday!” I exclaimed with excitement. Mama chuckled in response.

That night, I drifted off to sleep with a smile etched upon my face. A ball—a magical event that I had only dreamed of—awaited me. I couldn’t believe my luck. People say birthdays should be special, and this year’s celebration was shaping up to be the most extraordinary one of my life, or so I thought.

As dreams of elegant dances and radiant gowns filled my slumber, I couldn’t help but imagine the grandeur awaited me. The high lords and the Alpha himself would surely grace the occasion, and I was filled with endless curiosity about their appearance and demeanour.

Countless questions swirled in my mind, and I eagerly anticipated the answers that awaited me. Little did I know what twists and turns lay ahead, but for now, the anticipation painted a picture of a birthday that would surpass all expectations.

Cercei’s POV

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

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

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

“Fear not, my dear, I will ensure that everything is perfected,” Monsieur Remus reassured his daughter, his voice a soothing balm.

I stole a glance at my parents standing alongside the Alpha. Papa bestowed upon me a reassuring smile while Mama regarded me with gentle, loving eyes.

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

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

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

“Are you defending her?” Vienna inquired, her tone laced with the offence.

“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 upon 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 interjected.

“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 formidable 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 upon 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 Alpha is precisely your match,” Monsieur Remus insisted.

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

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

Eventually, she also departed, retreating to the spa to prepare herself to radiate magnificence at the upcoming ball.

The Blood Moon Pack—a name that reverberates throughout the land. They are renowned as the mightiest and most formidable warriors in the North. I possess no knowledge of their royal members save for the fact that the Reds lead them.

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

“Let us swap tasks,” she suggested, handing me a vase and a bouquet of flowers. In turn, I relinquished the brush I had been holding and commenced 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 incredibly 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 enigmatic 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 gracing 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 within this grand mansion, where socialisation and encounters with men have been scarce. While the rest of us toiled diligently to ensure every aspect of the ball would be flawless, Vienna intermittently inspected the progress, though her primary focus seemed to lie in her own preparations for the event.

“Moon Ball, my ass,” Maria muttered as we sought comfort beneath the towering apple tree situated at the rear of the mansion during our brief respite.

“All the pompous lords and ladies will simply prance about, flaunting their ostentatious 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 revel in excessive drinking and dancing, parading their numerous servants as if they were trophies. A gathering of self-important fools and insufferable prats.” 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.

“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 the most terrible women who don the most breathtaking dresses,” I winced, sceptical of the intentions behind such finery.

“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 note of hope into our conversation.

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

I couldn’t truly fault 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 amidst the darkest depths, one should always seek out the glimmers of light and dive fearlessly into the hearts of even the most shadowed souls.

I considered myself blessed, for although my days were consumed by toil and service, at the end of each one, I had the solace of my loving parents. Despite the weight of responsibilities and duties that enveloped them, they never failed to demonstrate their unwavering love for me.

A week passed, and every nook and cranny of the mansion exuded an air of perfection. The harmonious blend of green and red radiated luxury and sophistication, serving as a visual testament to the meticulousness of our preparations.

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.

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

As I entered the opulent ballroom, the guests had assembled around Vienna, hanging onto her every word. I quietly positioned myself by Maria’s side, seeking solace in her familiar presence.

“This ball must be flawless. Should any of you make a single mistake, you will not live to regret it. Do you understand?” Vienna’s words hung heavy in the air, causing us all to swallow hard and nod in trepidation. Her scrutinising gaze swept across the group, but it halted upon reaching me.

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

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

“I want all of you to wear masks. I don’t want our esteemed guests to lose their appetite as they gaze upon your repugnant 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, her voice laced with both amusement and sympathy.