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.

Cercei’s POV

I awoke with the first rays of dawn, my heart brimming with delight and enthusiasm. Still caught in the clutches of sleep, I yawned and rubbed my eyes, only to find my parents standing before me, their presence an unexpected charm.

“Goodness gracious,” I gasped, clutching my chest in surprise while my father chuckled and settled himself on the edge of my bed.

“Happy birthday, my dear Chèri,” he murmured, gently kissing my head before enveloping me in his warm embrace.

A radiant smile graced my face as I reciprocated the loving hug.

“Happy birthday, my darling,” my mother chimed in, joining the tender embrace. However, the intensity of their affection made me flinch momentarily.

“You’re squeezing the life out of me,” I teased, prompting laughter from both of them as they released me from their clasp.

“We have a little surprise for you,” my mother announced, extending a small wooden box adorned with a delicately carved crescent moon.

As I gingerly opened the box, my eyes beheld a vintage treasure—a rounded necklace reminiscent of bygone eras. Its centrepiece was a captivating blue, emerald gemstone encircled by an array of cryptic foreign languages and enigmatic symbols that eluded my comprehension.

“Mamà,” I breathed in awe, my voice barely a whisper.

“It belonged to my mother and her mother before her. Now, it is time for you to inherit it, my beloved Cercei,” she revealed, her voice tinged with sentimentality.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, I embraced them both, and then my father extended his hand. Placing the necklace delicately into his palm, I turned around. Then, with the utmost care, he fastened the heirloom around my neck, its weight a comforting presence against my skin.

“It suits you,” my mother uttered, her voice filled with admiration. I responded to her kind words with a gentle smile, grateful for her approval.

“Make sure you get ready, my dear. Today is a momentous occasion for our pack,” my father reminded me, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.

“Oh, the ball!” I exclaimed, a surge of excitement coursing through me. Without wasting a moment, I leaped out of bed and snatched my clothes from their resting place. The sound of my parents’ laughter filled the air, their amusement echoing through the room.

“Have a splendid day, chèri!” Papà called out, his words imbued with warmth and well wishes.

Finally, the day I had eagerly anticipated had arrived—the grand ball and my very own birthday. A perpetual smile adorned my face, undeterred even by Vienna’s constant grumbling. I cheerfully tended to my duties and dutifully followed her instructions. Today was simply the epitome of perfection, a day that no one could possibly spoil.

As I stood beside Maria, washing the dishes, her voice reached me in a soft whisper. “Happy birthday, Wolfie.”

I turned to her with gratitude shining in my eyes. “Thank you, Maria.”

Her expression hinted at a secret, a gift she had yet to present. “I’ll give you my present later.”

A spark of curiosity ignited within me. “You have a gift for me?”

A mischievous smile danced on Maria’s lips. “Of course, I do, you silly girl,” she chuckled, leaving me eager with anticipation.

“I can’t wait to see it,” I eagerly replied, my curiosity piqued by Maria’s promise.

However, before Maria could respond, Madàm Cece abruptly interjected, interrupting our conversation. “Maria, why are you here? Return to the garden,” she commanded.

Maria made a face behind Madàm Cece’s back before obediently departing.

I shook my head, amused by her playful defiance. At times, she could be rather childlike.

“Back to work, Cercei,” Madàm Cece grumbled, her tone laced with irritation.

I nodded obediently and returned to my tasks. Madàm Cecè had served the Crescents long before my parents, and her grumpiness and bad temper seemed to intensify as she aged.

“I expect all of you to behave impeccably tonight. The consequences for misbehaviour will be severe,” she warned, her gaze lingering on me as she uttered her final words.

I was well-versed in keeping my head down, a skill drilled into me by Vienna. She had always insisted that no one would desire even a glimpse of my supposedly repulsive visage. Thus, I grew up plagued by insecurities and doubts, but with time, I came to realise that Vienna had merely sought to deter me from stealing her spotlight.

Not long after, the distinguished guests began to arrive in their splendid carriages and vehicles. The women adorned themselves in breathtaking designer gowns, while the men exuded elegance in their tailored suits. I gazed at them in awe, captivated by the allure of such a lavish existence.

“Woah,” I gasped, unable to contain my awe when Lady Shire made her grand entrance. Clad in a form-fitting gold bodycon dress that accentuated her graceful figure, she walked with an air of confidence. The dress revealed a tantalising slit, exposing her perfectly straight legs, and her hair cascaded in bouncy waves as she moved.

Lady Shire was Vienna’s cousin from her mother’s side. Unlike Vienna, Lady Shire possessed a kind heart and exuded polite charm. She had frequented the mansion during her childhood, but we hadn’t seen her in years.

Monsieur Remus warmly embraced his niece upon her arrival, and Vienna’s face lit up with joy at the sight of her cousin. I observed the heartfelt reunion from a distance when Maria called out to me, pulling my attention away.

“Where were you? Madam Cecè was looking for you,” Maria exclaimed, her voice tinged with urgency.

“Sorry, I was just watching—” I began to explain.

“We’re not here to watch, Cercei. We’re here to serve. Come on,” she interrupted, tugging me towards the bustling kitchen. In her hand, she held a crimson mask, which she handed to me. Once I had donned the mask, she placed a tray laden with drinks into my hands, and we made our way to the ballroom.

As I entered the enchanting space, my gaze swept across the room. Soft music floated through the air, mingling with the hum of conversation and laughter. Some guests were twirling gracefully on the dance floor, their movements perfectly synchronised. Head bowed, I navigated the room, discreetly offering drinks to the attendees.

Suddenly, Monsieur Remus commanded everyone’s attention. The room fell into a hushed silence as he spoke, his voice resonating with authority and warmth.

“My dear friends, it is my utmost pleasure to welcome you all to my humble abode. Tonight, we gather to celebrate our shared history and prepare for a future brimming with promise. May we forge alliances that will fortify our power and strength as the esteemed Lords and Ladies of the North and West. Your presence is deeply appreciated, and I sincerely hope you enjoy the festivities.”

Applause erupted, filling the room with a wave of appreciation. After his speech, the guests resumed their conversations, the ballroom alive with animated chatter.

“This party is truly remarkable. Vienna has impeccable taste,” I overheard two ladies whispering to each other, their voices filled with admiration.

“You there, servant girl,” one of them called out to me. Nervously, I approached, uncertain of what to expect.

Relief washed over me as she plucked a glass of wine from the tray I held and continued conversing with her friend. With a small bow, I excused myself and moved on.

Serving at a grand ball wasn’t as dreadful as I had anticipated. In fact, it allowed me to revel in the melodic strains of music and witness the presence of influential leaders from various packs. Moreover, it was a glimpse into a world of power and prestige.

Once my tray was emptied, I made my way back to the kitchen, ready to replenish it and resume my duties.

“There, go to that table over there. They are running out of drinks,” Madam Cecè instructed, handing me yet another tray and pointing towards the central table.

“Yes, Madam,” I replied dutifully, my arms already aching from the strain of carrying the heavy trays. Maintaining focus was crucial; the last thing I wanted was to drop the drinks accidentally.

Cercei’s POV

Approaching the table occupied by a group of boisterous middle-aged men, I silently collected their empty glasses and swiftly replaced them with brimming ones. My hands trembled slightly as I set down the glasses, my nerves betraying me.

“Be careful, dear. You might spill my drink,” one of the men remarked, noticing my unease.

Startled by his comment, I instinctively withdrew my hand, fearing the repercussions of breaking the rules we had been explicitly taught. We were strictly instructed not to engage with the guests. However, my terror caused me to fumble, and in an unfortunate turn of events, I spilled wine onto the man’s lap.

“Forgive me, my lord,” I stammered, fear gripping my entire being. My heart thudded heavily in my chest as I reached for a napkin and extended it towards him.

Tremors coursed through my body as I anticipated the consequences of my mistake. Vienna had made it abundantly clear that any misstep would be met with severe punishment. Now, all I could think about was the impending retribution I would face for disregarding her rules.

“Please forgive me, my Lord,” I stammered repeatedly, as I swiftly reached for a napkin and extended it to him, my hands trembling with trepidation.

The room fell silent as the incident disrupted the ongoing conversations of the others.

“Dear, it’s quite alright. Wipe it away for me,” he responded, his smile bearing a sinister and unsettling air. Gripping my hand firmly, he directed it towards his lap, his intentions unmistakable. Instinctively, I broke free from his grasp, the sudden movement drawing the attention of those seated nearby.

“Adolphus, release the young lady,” interjected one of the men, his voice firm and authoritative. I turned my gaze towards him, searching for a glimmer of empathy in his eyes.

“How dare you spill a drink on me!” Adolphus bellowed, his wounded pride fueling his indignation at my refusal to comply with his inappropriate advances. I could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes upon us.

“I beg your forgiveness, my Lord,” I managed to utter, my voice trembling and tears welling up in my eyes.

“Remove your mask this instant,” he commanded, his words laced with a menacing undertone.

Fear gripped me as I contemplated the consequences of disobeying the strict instruction never to unveil my face under any circumstance.

Dropping to my knees, I implored for mercy, my words barely audible in my distress. “M-my Lord, I-I...”

In one swift motion, he snatched the mask from my face and callously crushed it beneath his foot. My head bowed in submission, he placed his hand beneath my chin, tilting it upwards to meet his gaze. I caught a glimpse of his anger transmuting into a twisted desire.

“What a captivating countenance,” he murmured, fingers caressing my face. Desperate to evade his touch, I averted my gaze, searching for solace in the periphery.

“It is a lamentable sight, indeed. I can’t help but wonder what manner of punishment awaits you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with a perverse fascination as he leaned closer and whispered into my ear.

“Join me in my service, and I will ensure your every pleasure,” he continued, his words tinged with a repulsive proposition. Disgust welled up within me, for I was not that kind of woman. Though I despised this place, I knew deep within that his domain held even darker horrors.

A booming voice shattered the tense air as Monsieur made his presence known. The man abruptly released his grip on my face, pivoting to face the commanding figure.

“What is the meaning of this?” Monsieur’s gaze pierced through the room, his eyes scanning the scene before settling on me. I met his gaze with teary eyes, a silent plea for understanding.

"Forgive me, Monsieur. It-it was an unfortunate accident, I swear. I did not mean to—” I stammered, my words trailing off in distress.

Vienna appeared at Monsieur’s side, her once inquisitive eyes now ablaze with fury as she beheld me.

“Please, Lord Adolphus, forgive my servant. I assure you, such an incident will never recur under my watchful eye,” Monsieur Remus interjected, attempting to diffuse the situation with his authoritative tone.

“It was not the girl’s fault, uncle,” Lady Shire’s voice rang out, her eyes unwavering as she stood by my side, offering her support. “Lord Adolphus here was shamelessly accosting her.”

I lifted my gaze to meet Lady Shire’s persistent stare, gratitude flooding my heart for her brave defence.

“How dare you!” Lord Adolphus bellowed, his rage reverberating through the room.

“I witnessed the entire incident as I am seated right before you,” Lady Shire retorted, gesturing towards the table directly before us.

“Shire,” Monsieur Remus called out, his voice commanding her to cease her confrontation.

Lady Shire turned her gaze towards me, her eyes brimming with concern. She extended her hand towards me, a gesture of compassion and support.

“My Lord Adolphus, I understand her beauty may captivate you, but it is never acceptable to touch a woman without her consent,” Lady Shire boldly asserted, her words striking a nerve.

Lord Adolphus’s face flushed red, anger visibly emanating from him like wisps of smoke. He was on the brink of an explosive outburst when his companions managed to subdue him.

“My Lord Remus, please accept my sincerest apologies for my brother’s despicable behavior. I will ensure he regains his composure,” interjected one of the Lords, swiftly intervening and guiding Lord Adolphus away.

Lady Shire turned her attention back to me, her eyes filled with genuine concern. “Are you alright?” she inquired, her voice laced with empathy.

“I apologise for the disturbance, everyone. There is no cause for panic,” Monsieur Remus reassured, his warm smile attempting to restore a sense of tranquillity to the room.

“Cercei, return to the kitchen, and Shire, come with me,” he continued, issuing instructions to his attendants. Lady Shire cast one last glance in my direction, and I reciprocated with a reassuring smile, assuring her that I was indeed unharmed. She obediently followed Monsieur Remus, leaving me under Vienna’s stern gaze.

“You wretched bitch!” she seethed, her voice a venomous whisper. With a furious grip on my arm, she forcefully dragged me outside, away from prying eyes.

We arrived at the secluded spot behind the grand mansion, near the sheltering embrace of an ancient apple tree. She violently pushed me against the wall, her eyes ablaze with intense anger that seemed to consume her.

“So, you crave the attention that desperately, do you?” she spat, her words dripping with disdain.

“I didn’t mean to make a mistake. It was purely an accident, I beg of you,” I pleaded, my voice trembling with fear.

“I explicitly instructed you never to falter and to keep your face hidden!” she shouted, her voice laced with frustration.